malovedaptive

[malovedaptive]

CHILUMI: # a chasmic mistake.

CHAPTER I: descent.

chapter summary. in which Lumine makes a decision she will regret; in which Childe has everything under control.

wc. 3.4k. genre. enemies to lovers, adventure, pining.

table of contents / next chapter

Lumine’s muscles tensed as she felt the ground beneath her feet give way. She should have seen this coming, having ignored the signs placed around the area warning against trespassing. She’d never been the type to pay them much attention, nor had her target. And Paimon wasn’t around to drag her back, either—her floaty friend was left behind somewhere as she’d scaled the mountains and skidded back down them, only willing to stop for one thing.

That one thing would be her blade to the neck of the Eleventh Harbinger.

Paimon had said this whole thing was pointless, that “Mr. Moneybags” would only get them both into danger. Lumine had initially agreed, but seeing Childe, the man who had tried to kill her and wipe out all of Liyue Harbour, recklessly hunting a bounty across the nation had driven her to devote herself entirely to stopping him. 

Countless duels had commenced over the last few weeks, and Lumine had contributed greatly to the chaos that followed in his wake. He liked resisting her, and she liked that she got closer to defeating him every time. But it was because of Childe. It was all his fault. Him, and those damn Fatui.

Lumine had caught word of a bountied creature, some kind of rare animal belonging to a Sumeran noble. She had already understood that this was his goal. But she found it very suspicious of the deceptive (and wealthy) Snezhnayan to chase just any bounty. Surely it wasn’t just over some Mora, because that was definitely not worth falling several hundred meters into the so-called solar chariot ruins known as the Chasm. Thus, she had been keeping an eye on him. A very close, hunting eye.

He had told her about his plans himself during one of their duels, saying, “You can’t blame me for bounty hunting. You’ve done enough of that to understand the thrill of it.” And this, she could not deny. In a way, he was her own target, the unattainable bounty being satisfaction.

Lumine had never been great at saving herself from near-miss falls, but whatever ability she could muster would momentarily have to come into use. She would grab ahold of something—anything—to keep from getting herself stuck in the abandoned mines. She slid down a crumbling slate of rock, which angled her closer to the gaping black hole below. The Qixing had claimed to have sealed it off completely; how could it be that there was now a wide mouth to the dark caverns below?

Making quick use of Anemo, she managed to propel herself to the edge of the gap, scrambling up to uncertain safety. Only once she was assured the rock would hold her did she venture to peer down the hole. 

“Hey, girlie! You sure you wanna go down there?”

The nauseatingly charming voice echoed dramatically from somewhere above her and she looked up.

Childe stood on some jutting rocks further up the opposite side of the cavity, waving his fingers at her from over the edge. “Hello!”

She didn’t respond, making a face she hoped he could read from his distance.

“Someday you’ll be happier to see me,” Childe said. “Come now, no need to look at me like that. Suppose I’ll catch you later, then, traveller. Careful on the way down!”

With that, he took a step and a hop over the edge, soaring confidently towards the depths of the Chasm. A flash of grey and ginger later, and he had disappeared into the darkness. Lumine crawled to the overhang’s edge, gazing down into it again.

She had no defensive logic for the decision she was about to make, and yet… she had to. He was dragging her down with him without even touching her. She had to follow him, no matter what.

—

The first thing Lumine noticed upon landing was an ache in her legs. Her glider had served her well for most of it—but the amount of time it took her eyes to adjust to the low light level still had her legs nervously tensing for most of the descent.

It smelled of dank cave, metal, and some bitter scent she couldn’t place. She immediately took to a rock that was just the right size for leaning on, and regained her wits as she looked around. There was no exit; that was clear.  The cavern appeared to be fairly large, narrowing towards the stone ceiling from which she fell, assuring no simple clambering out. She’d find a way out eventually, as she always did, but escape seemed to be quite out of reach for now.

Damn. If only she could contact Venti to fly her out. But then, even if she could, the last time she had seen him he was too intoxicated to fly straight. It wouldn’t serve either of them well. Also, as lovely as Venti was as a friend, he was one of the last people she’d like to be stuck underground with. Childe was further down that list, of course.

Around herself, she could make out the shapes of different rocks and minerals, dismally glowing cave-dwelling blossoms, and in the distance, the faint silhouettes of abandoned mining equipment. 

And no Paimon. Paimon would have no idea where she was.

Lumine had no chance to grieve this lack of communication, because she heard footsteps and disfigured yelling just a moment later.

“Who’s there? Name yourself!”

She said nothing, hopping over the rock and gliding further down into the cavern. Unfortunately, she noticed the Fatui camp’s fire all-too-close to where she landed.

“There’s an intruder!” The distorted voice of a Pyroslinger broke out and she groaned internally. Not even a minute to catch her breath? Really?

Lumine’s attacks came naturally, blowing down the Fatui’s elemental shields and stunning them with Anemo vortexes. Finally reaching the last enemy, the Pyroslinger Bracer, she took slow steps towards the corner she’d blasted him into. She always soaked up the last moments of her victory for what they could offer: the Pyroslinger’s arms raised to protect himself, muttering curses just loud enough for her to enjoy, and the inevitability of his defeat. Her movements halted, suddenly, though it was neither her doing nor the Fatui skirmisher’s. Her vision was dimming, and she looked around herself to see strange dark mud covering the ground. Her nose was overwhelmed by the bitter smell now, and her legs were leaden.

Three shots from the recovering Pyroslinger now struck her chest, knocking her off her balance. She collapsed to the ground with hands cushioning her fall in the egregious mud. She looked up as the Pyroslinger repositioned his gun to aim again. She couldn’t pull her hands out of the mud fast enough to reach for her sword, which had fallen to her left.

“Stand down, comrade,” a tenor voice said from somewhere behind. 

The Fatui skirmisher looked up from her and cocked his head. “Who gives you the authority?”

A second later, two arrows had struck each of the skirmisher’s shoulders, just hanging onto the top of the fur, and a third zipped directly into the feather on his hat, knocking it clean off.

“Her Majesty, the Tsaritsa of Snezhnaya, grants me absolute authority.” Childe stepped into Lumine’s view, giving a cold smile to the skirmisher. “Can’t recognize one of the Eleven Harbingers, comrade?” A dim flash bloomed above his gloved palm in a shapeless lantern of elemental energy, casting an eerie blue glow on his visage. 

The skirmisher stood straight, giving an awkward salute. “Forgive me, sir.”

“You’re off the hook, but don’t go aiming your gun at me again,” he chided. “Her Majesty will hear about it.”

“No, sir. But—” he gestured to Lumine “—she took down my whole squad.”

Childe peered into the shadows, noting the unconscious or incapacitated forms of said squad. “I see.” His dim elemental lantern extinguished and he offered Lumine his hand, which she greeted with nothing but an offended stare. “Good work, girlie. You know, you really don’t have to attack ‘em unprovoked, hey?”

“Oh, you’re one to talk,” she spat, getting to her feet without his assistance and dusting herself off. This mud would surely leave quite the stain.

“Don’t I get a ‘thank you’?”

“I had that under control.”

“I’d beg to differ,” he said, leaning over to her to wipe a bit of muck out of her hair. She froze, at first, and then stepped away from him, slapping his hand away. Fetching her sword from the mud, Lumine nearly stormed off.

But then she realized, with much consternation, that she had nowhere to walk away to. Her goal had been to stop him. She wasn’t quite sure how to go about it.

By now he should have prompted a duel, as had happened each time before. She’d interrupted him chatting with (interrogating) innocent civilians in Qingce Village, prevented his discovery of Albedo’s camp, and taken clues for herself. Rumours were everywhere, of course—and yet they had both been acquainted with similar directions to the earthquake zone which had dropped them here. The targeted creature was last spotted and chased away by guards of the Chasm. The guards were the reckoned finish line of their race for intel. But the guards were at the Surface, and they were down here. 

Childe grimaced at her movement. His eyes didn’t leave her.

Lumine cleared her throat. “You didn’t, by chance… end up talking to the…”

“The guards? Nah, I didn’t make it that far. You thought I might have come back for you, girlie?” He sniggered.

Lumine stared at him blankly. She wanted to ask him, what now? But she also didn’t want to be confronted about her decision to come down here in the first place.

He turned to the Pyroslinger. “When’s your relay over?”

“Twenty-seven days.”

“Rations?”

“We’re fine. There’s water sources down here, and mushrooms we can roast in the worst case.” 

“Good. Carry on, comrade.” He eyed a Fatuus in the shadows, who was groaning in pain. “And… try to take care of your squad, will ya?”

“Acknowledged.”

Lumine almost felt guilt for causing this group all the trouble. But then she remembered. They were Fatui.

And so was Childe. She placed her hand on the hilt of her sword and glared at him. He turned to her with an amiable smile, ignoring her stance.

“Now, then, traveller, whaddya say we explore a little?”

Lumine tightened her hand’s grip on the hilt. “For what?”

“Well, for fun, of course.”

She gave him a hard look. “Okay,” she said slowly, relaxing her hand, “let’s explore. For fun.”

—

Oh, it was excruciating walking alongside her enemy like this. Lumine hated how he walked a little bit ahead, how he pointed out directions they should go, how he made small talk. How he attempted banter and she fell into the trap of responding. How he never hesitated at a single turn, offering light from his vision in case she found the dark to be too much (which she denied, affronted by the preposition that she was afraid of darkness).

“It seems to narrow into a smaller cave, here,” Childe was saying, “why don’t we—”

“You should let me walk ahead,” she interrupted.

He cocked his head at her, Fatui mask in his hair shifting with the movement. “Why? You want to protect me?”

“No, idiot. I don’t trust you.”

It wasn’t that she didn’t trust his intuition—it was sharp, she could admit—but that she hated being out of control. She was used to the “why don’t we—”s from Paimon, but rather than observant reminders as it was with her pixie companion, it sounded like suspicious schemes. Anything he said sounded like a part of a ploy, a puzzle to unravel. Some kind of evil mission, probably. It always would be with him.

He tch’d, but gestured for her to walk ahead. “You have so little faith in me.”

“I wonder why, Childe,” she spat his codename. “I wonder why.”

With a pause, he sent Lumine a more serious look. He spoke carefully. “I think it would help,” he said, “if you took the time to hear me out a little, girlie.”

Lumine studied his expression. It wasn’t often she got to see his expression reveal anything more than military, wiley, or bloodthirsty. The corners of his lips were nudged back, his brows were slightly gathered, and his eyes were direct. And his Fatui mask was as red as ever.

“I respectfully disagree,” she said, taking the lead ahead. “No amount of explaining can justify your actions. And don’t call me that.”

“I’m not trying to challenge your morals, traveller.”

She threw her arms out. “Then stop acting like you want me to fancy your ass.”

“That’s not what this is about.”

“Then what is it about, Childe?”

He hesitated again, boasting an irked expression. “I don’t need a babysitter, but you’ve been following me for weeks. Why?”

“You have the codename ‘Childe’ for a reason, don’t you?”

He went silent. Lumine looked over her shoulder to see his brows lowering.

“Giving up on your own case already?”

His gaze set into hers. “Do you hear that?”

Lumine listened, and then latched her eyes onto an ominous shape in the darkness. There was a soft, rattling snarl, which she recognized as that of a Geovishap only a second before it was too late. She leapt before Childe, raising her sword just in time to deflect the pounce of the dragonish Creature. Its claws scraped against the stone floor as it fell back, gearing up to leap again. Childe dashed past her and the Geovishap, and aimed a shot right at the nape of its neck, causing it to freeze milliseconds before lunging. It twitched, falling to its curved back.

For a second, Lumine thought he’d slain the Geovishap in a single shot, but it then began to twitch, spin, roll, towards Childe this time. He dove out of the way, narrowly escaping one hit which only seemed to aggravate the Geovishap more, landing directly in front of him with its claws out. Lumine always thought of Childe as rather tall and altitudinally advantaged, but when standing before an adult Geovishap he looked so small. Fleeting fear overtook her mind and with a leap from behind she took a steady blade through its skull.

Childe stepped back as it crumpled in his direction, Hydro blades dissolving into elemental energy as he gave her a taunting look. “You know, I had that under control.”

A proud smile spread across Lumine’s lips. “Ha. I’d beg to differ,” she said, planting one foot on the creature’s back, almost too high to reach, and driving her sword heavily into its back through scales.

His gaze shifted between the hilt of her sword, her overstretched leg, and her expression. A grin bloomed gradually, blessedly, on his own face and he laughed jovially. “Alright, then. You can lead the way.”

Lumine cleared her throat and withdrew her blade, swinging it inattentively before sheathing it. She forced her smile down. “Yes. Good. I will.”

He took to walking behind her, and she hated that more, because she could not see him. After a few minutes, she commanded, “Walk beside me.”

“Yes, Mom.”

“Shut the hell up.”

He took to her right side with an expression like a satisfied fourteen-year old who just won a match of cards. “We should find somewhere to set up camp pretty soon, no?”

Lumine huffed. She did not want to set up camp with No. 11 of the Fatui Harbingers.

“Unless you want to go back and find my subordinates. I’m not sure how pleased they would be to host you after your unprompted attack, but I am great at convincing.”

“You’re not always so great at convincing,” she said, still unable to admit he had a point. She had no way to tell the time but she knew it had been late afternoon upon their descent, and they had been walking for several hours. Her legs were in need of rest.

“I’d like to think sometimes it takes longer than other times, but the job always gets done.”

“You’d like to think a lot of things.” The tunnel around them was widening rapidly as they walked. “I’d like to think this is our way out, but how likely is that?”

He pointed ahead. “There’s actually a bit of a semi-cave there, under that overhang, you see? You wanna set up there?”

She squinted into the darkness. “You’re joshing. There’s nothing to see.”

“Come on.” They walked in the direction he had gestured towards, and there was indeed a semi-cave, three walls but a big enough opening on the fourth side that there was no chance of getting trapped. “Is this to your liking, girlie?” he asked, like they were touring a couple’s apartment.

“Could be worse,” she conceded, and dropped her bag against the wall. “Now, by setting up camp, what is it you’re actually referring to?” Lumine crossed her arms, eyeing him. “Fire, food, shelter, and comfort? Or do you just conk out for a few hours on the ground?”

“Do you think I’m a savage?” he asked with a laugh. “I carry a leather blanket in my bag. I can make a fire with wet wood. I know how to turn a snowy tree into a cozy shelter. Hm… But we haven’t got any kindling, so shall we find some cave grass?”

Lumine, slightly insulted that he supposed her straightforward method of setting up camp to be savage, sauntered towards the greater opening of the cave and surveyed the area. There was still a strangely sufficient amount of light, though perhaps not enough for her to pick up on details such as potential grass locales. She squinted, trying to decide quite how far away the other side of the cave really was.

“Let’s walk this way.” Childe waved her over, providing his blue glow with elemental energy. She wished she knew how to do that. But she didn’t dare ask, knowing that sharing any trade secrets with a Fatuus would be both humiliating and disgusting.

“Childe,” she said, instead, and then hesitated. The forthcoming inquiry was terrible, but had to be inquired nonetheless.

“Yeah?”

“What are we gonna… or rather, what are you doing down here, and…”

He met her eyes without a tinge of sass. “You’re really asking your sworn enemy to reveal his plan to you?”

“Uh…” Lumine sucked air through her teeth. This was atrociously painful. “What’s the plan?”

Childe’s face broke into a wide grin and he howled. “You are so cute.”

“Answer the damn question, Harbinger.”

He chuckled some more. “Alright, since you asked so nicely. I already have enough leads that I know the bounty’s down here.” He shrugged matter-of-factly. “Shouldn’t take longer than a few days to reach it.”

Lumine narrowed her eyes at him. “Do you… know the Chasm well?”

He clicked his tongue. “Not particularly, but I don’t get lost.”

“You don’t get lost? Not even in massive, cursed cave systems?”

“Nope!”

“Do you have much experience underground?”

“Oh…” he said. “Yes, a bit.” 

For a fraction of a second his smile flickered, and this Lumine noticed with suspicion. However, she decided not to push it, keeping a watchful eye on him as they descended deeper into the cavern.

Wherever they were going, Lumine would have to stay on her guard for the deception that the Fatui Harbinger inevitably had in store for her. She knew how to survive, but she did not know the Chasm. She had not even seen a map of it before, and only had a trifle of knowledge about what had happened here. She was aware that it was related to the cataclysm 500 years ago, but its role was a mystery to her and the reason for its hushed nature in Liyue was just as mysterious. It was unclear whether Childe knew the Chasm, but he was of this world and was therefore at an advantage.

That, and he was the one who had some kind of true motive for being down here.

And Lumine’s only motive was to prevent him from accomplishing it.

author's note. please reblog if you enjoyed. thanks so much for reading! i'm so excited about this series man i poured my soul into it

— table of contents / next chapter

➳ GENSHIN MASTERLIST

[malovedaptive]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞: 𝐈𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬

In the land of Xianzhou, where such things as flying swords and divining futures really exist, it is quite a misfortune to be born the eldest of four.¹ In any other case, the role of the eldest is a very respectable one, but in this particular instance it is not so: for it means shouldering all the same responsibilities, but with the added knowledge that you will be plagued by misfortune with every step, and that all your efforts will ultimately come to nothing until your inevitable death.

You were born the eldest of four children to a relatively well-off craftsman who ran a kite shop in Aurum Alley, located in the eastern province of Luofu. Your mother was a sailor, but both your parents died at sea when you were four years old. Your second sister Qingni was two years old when it happened, and your youngest twin sisters, Qingque and Sushang, only one. 

Had the one who subsequently took you in been of a cruel sort, perhaps you might have stumbled upon your mother’s reincarnation as a fish who would guide you to a more hopeful future.² Alas, your mother Caiyi’s good friend Madame Yukong—the woman you all secretly suspected was her true lover—became a perfectly loving parent to all the children Caiyi left behind, which ended the possibility for any such inspiring tales. Thus, you were fated to live out and die the sorry life set out for you. 

It was early in childhood that you discovered your propensity for failure. In order to spread your family’s reputation further, you tried to learn new skills and dabbled in various crafts, but each attempt ended in disaster. You worried the ceramics would break when you tried pottery, and surely enough, every pot you made ended up in clay fragments on the floor. You feared you would hurt yourself with the jade-carving tools, and, once you almost shaved off your thumb, were not too keen on continuing. As if by cruel fate—which you indeed began to believe was the case—everything you expected to fail in, you failed in. Such was the solid evidence of the firstborn’s condition.

You therefore gave up on trying altogether and instead spent your time reading books about other people who did lead great lives, such as biographies of the famous cultivator Dan Feng who had gone missing years ago. The tales of his deeds captivated you, and despite all the odds you wished very dearly to meet him one day. 

As any firstborn should, you did as you were told, made offerings to your ancestral shrine, kept quiet, and were generally the most sensible of your siblings. But to be sensible in a family of four children is an unfortunate thing. It landed you looking after your squabbling sisters while Madame Yukong was away for business. Sushang and Qingque were the main offenders. Their spats were loud, offensive, and messy, and they broke so many things each time that you became a skilful tinkerer and repairsperson simply through cleaning up after them. You were especially good with wood. If you had a real choice in career, perhaps you would have become a mechanic or a carpenter. But that was not a feasible option: your predecessors had all been kite-makers, and you felt duty-bound to follow the path they had laid out for you. Furthermore, considering your sisters may decide to enter other trades in the future, it was only right that you should be the one to remain.

After Yukong returned from her long trips overseas, she always brought back trinkets for each of you: exotic teas, little figurines, and tales of faraway lands. While you grew intrigued by the mechanics of ships themselves, Qingni was the one who took a real interest in seafaring. Yukong and Qingni argued over it frequently, because sailing was what had gotten your mother killed and Yukong refused to let Qingni follow in her footsteps. Sometimes their arguments were so big that Qingni refused to talk to her for days afterwards.

It was not only chaos inside the house which you had to deal with, either.

A few months back, rumours started spreading that the Corrupted Cultivator of Scalegorge Wastescape, Phantylia, had returned. Long before you were born, she single-handedly brought down the dynasty before Emperor Lan from the inside out,³ and had attempted to do the same to Emperor Lan themself during the later Abundance War. Now the mere mention of Phantylia’s name was enough to get people plastering yellow talismans across the white walls of their homes. Whispers of all sorts went around. “Phantylia wants to dethrone the Emperor,” some people said. “She’s working with the Disciples of Sanctus Medicus,” claimed others. And the worst of all were the ones which went, “Perhaps there was no Phantylia all along. Perhaps… we are Phantylia!”

Shortly after these rumours began to circulate, a huge ship appeared on the horizon of town. From one glance alone anyone could tell that this was no ordinary ship: unlike the waterborne sampans sailing down the adjacent river, this ship hovered in the sky, with wreaths of steam billowing from its smooth sides. On its hull were painted the characters Seat of Divine Foresight. 

This was not the only deterring factor. If an ominous green silhouette lingering on the horizon was not enough to get Aurum Alley’s residents shaking in their boots, an ominous green silhouette which moved certainly was. The ship floated near and far, creeping across the sky like a cloud of poisonous gas. Sometimes it was a smudge on the horizon. Other days, it blotted out the sun and cast the town in shadow: if you squinted closely enough, you could make out the metal panels of its black hull. Everyone was certain that this ship must belong to Phantylia: for if not hers, who else’s could it be?

But as it is with the nature of hearsay, after a few weeks, the rumours shifted again. People suspected that the ship did not belong to Phantylia, but to somebody almost as terrible: the so-called ‘General Jing Yuan’, named only so because the title had stuck since he led Emperor Lan’s army to victory during the Abundance War. In truth, he was no ‘general’ any more than a two-headed snake was a dragon. Everybody knew he was a cultivator like Phantylia, who had turned to wickedness. So wicked indeed was he that people said he had claws instead of fingers, that bat wings sprouted from his back, and his fearsome blue face bore a bird’s beak in place of a nose.⁴

Regardless of the details, the most important thing about General Jing Yuan which was known for certain was that he sought out people with good prospects and stole their souls by reciting evil incantations.⁵ Some people even suspected he murdered his victims, as if stealing their soul was not enough for him, because every one of his targets vanished without trace. Occasionally, you wondered what General Jing Yuan needed so many souls for and why he stole them in the first place. 

It was no use wondering, however, because by this point most citizens had had enough. People started moving out of Aurum Alley, and you could not blame them: it was hardly possible to feel safe here with the huge Seat of Divine Foresight blocking the sky. Yukong must have had similar doubts, because it was not long before you and your siblings were pulled into the back of the kite shop for a conversation.

In a sombre voice, she began, “For your own safety, I have decided it’s best to move you away from Aurum Alley. It’s about time you all left home to focus on getting apprenticeships, anyway. Sushang,” Yukong said, looking at the girl in question (who sat up immediately straighter), “the Cloud Knights are happy to take you. You will leave for Yuque Province in three days’ time.”

Sushang’s jaw fell open. It had a habit of doing that. Yukong cleared her throat, and the jaw was swiftly closed. “Three days? That’s so soon! I need to start packing!” Sushang jumped up and rushed down the corridor to her room, shouting a thank you as she went. 

“Work hard, dear, and make your late mother proud,” called Yukong behind her.

“I will, I will! I promise!”

Yukong shook her head and sighed fondly before turning to Qingque. “Now, Qingque, you mentioned that you would like to work in divination.”

“What?” Qingque groaned. “I never said I wanted to work. I just said that… well, if I absolutely had to do something, it would be divining. You can pretty much make stuff up and get paid for it.”

A stern look from Yukong put an end to her complaining. “Divining is a perfectly respectable profession. May I also remind you that the alternative is the possibility of having your soul stolen. I know you are a girl who likes to rely on luck, Qingque, but if I were you, I would certainly consider this a situation in which you ‘absolutely have to do something.’”

Qingque sighed loudly. “Ugh, fine. Where are you sending me?”

“I have managed to find somebody who will take you under their wing in the Divination Commission,” said Yukong. You were impressed that Yukong had connections in such a prestigious place; but then again, few people were as well-travelled as her. “Have you heard of Jingzhai?”

Qingque’s face fell. “You mean the really boring, strict one?”

“The focused, hardworking one,” Yukong corrected pointedly, “but yes. Don’t be put off by her demeanour: she is one of the best in the area in terms of divination, and if you are willing to put in the work, I can guarantee you will achieve future success. You might even become wealthy enough never to have to work again.” 

Qingque grumbled some more, especially when Yukong said ‘put in the work,’ but at the words ‘never have to work again’, you saw her Foxian ears perk up a little. Yukong certainly knew how to appeal to her. “I guess I might give it a go,” she conceded with a shrug. 

Yukong now turned to Qingni, and the atmosphere in the room stiffened. “Qingni… I have not permitted your request to sail.”

Qingni hit the table in anger. “Mother—!”

“You will go to Central Starskiff Haven,” Yukong continued in an even voice, speaking steadily over Qingni’s outcry, “and you will study cartography under an old colleague of mine.”

“I don’t want to be a cartographer!” said Qingni. Her green eyes were flashing with determination. You could tell she was not going to back down. “You know perfectly well that I’m a capable sailor—”

“Yes, experience gained from practice you did behind my back.” 

“—no, better than capable, I’m a good sailor, and the only reason you don’t want me to go out on my own is because you’re so stuck in the past that you can’t see I won’t end up like Caiyi did—”

Yukong stood up suddenly. You gulped and your ears flattened back against your head. Yukong’s expression was stone calm, but her face was pale and her eyes furious. Dangerously composed, she said, “Do not mention the name of your birth mother to me in such a way. You will go to Central Starskiff Haven, and you will study what I have told you to.”

Qingni stood up, too. Her ears were bristling. “No! I won’t!” she yelled, and stormed out of the house. Yukong’s jaw tightened as she sat back down with a sharp sigh.

“Should I go and get her?” you hazarded tentatively. 

Yukong kneaded her brow in exhaustion. “No,” she said. “Qingni will come around in time. Caiyi was just the same when she was younger, which is why I must keep your sister in check.” Turning to you, she said sympathetically, “I hope you can see where I’m coming from.”

You nodded and did not say anything. You could see where both of them were coming from, but in truth you agreed more with Qingni than you did Yukong. In your opinion, it was silly to throw away potential just in case something went wrong—except for if there was little potential to begin with anyway, such as in your case. But you did not dare mention that to Yukong right now.

“Returning to the matter at hand of apprenticeships,” continued Yukong, “I have been considering where to send you, and ultimately concluded that you are old enough to decide that for yourself. Of course, I would much appreciate it if you stayed and helped me run the kite shop—Caiyi was always eager for her children to carry on her husband’s kite-making, after all—but given the current circumstances, I will understand if you’d prefer to move somewhere else.”

“Actually, I think I’m alright staying here,” you replied meekly. Now that your siblings were off, it was more important than ever for you to honour your predecessors by sticking with their trade. 

“Even with that ship hovering around?” Yukong said. “Are you sure?”

“Quite sure. I’ll stay.” Despite the lurking danger of the Seat of Divine Foresight, you were not afraid of it: for you knew that the chance of you becoming one of General Jing Yuan’s victims was nigh impossible. He targeted the prosperous, and what with your cursed knack for doom, you were simply too unremarkable to be of any possible interest to him. Perhaps you ought to find this offensive or hurtful, but you did not: it was a simple fact of your life. No sensible person would be insulted by a fact. 

A relieved smile broke over Yukong’s face, as if she had secretly been hoping for this answer. “Then your help would be much appreciated, dear. We will begin as soon as you are ready, and I am sure your family will be looking down on you with pride.”

Qingni returned to the house late that night, once Yukong was out for business again and the twins were asleep. She admitted to you that she had made agreements with the captain of a docked ship called The Starskiff, and that she planned to sneak away on it instead of doing what Yukong had told her to. Most importantly, she told you to keep all this a secret. You felt guilty about it, but promised her you would.

The next few days passed by in a blur. Sushang left first, taking little with her but a small bag of supplies and a sword for her journey to Yuque; the next day, Qingque was off (you caught her stuffing notes about ‘how to get away with being lazy under strict tutelage’ and ‘cheating at divination’ in her bag the night before she left), and the night after that you walked Qingni to the small docks at the nearby river and bade her farewell as she stepped onto a generously sized ship called The Starskiff.

Even though you kept quiet about it, tendrils of gossip had already begun spreading about Qingni’s departure: apparently The Starskiff had a famed captain and only accepted the very best sailors. “Be careful out there, or the general will hunt you down with how successful you’ll become!” you joked before she left, and she laughed and teasingly returned the warning to you. Almost in a daze, you watched the ship leave. In less than a week, your family had gone from five to two people. 

It was quiet upon returning to the kite shop. The silence in the absence of Sushang’s and Qingque’s argument-banter was loud, as was the lack of Qingni by your side to talk to. Yukong wasted little time sitting you down in the back of the shop and running through various aspects of technique and history which went into the trade. The advantage of being an apprentice in the kite shop was that you knew the craft well already, so you had little new to learn before you could start making kites to sell by yourself. Yukong explained a few additional details to you, such as which designs were in style at which time of year and which material to use to best cover which type of frame, but otherwise you spent your days mostly in the back of the shop, trimming away at silk and glueing pieces of bamboo together while talking to yourself to pass the time. 

You were content. Not happy, but satisfied enough with the hand you had been dealt in life. Even if you could never excel at anything like the eldest ought to, you tried not to disappoint the expectations set upon you too badly, such as keeping the kite business running and contributing to your family’s success. You knew Yukong saw echoes of Caiyi in your face, though she did not say it out loud. It made you determined to live up to the person your mother had been. Those expectations, at least, you had to meet.

Despite knowing you were doing the right thing, you could not help but look out at the customers who had bought your kites on occasion and admire the way they soared so freely through the air, changing their course at the slightest sigh of wind, untethered to the world save for a fine string which, if let go, would let them fly up and touch the heavens themselves. It might be nice, you thought, to be a kite sometimes. And when you thought this, you would gaze up at the Seat of Divine Foresight hovering in the sky and wonder how spectacular the view must be from there. How much you could do, going anywhere you want, and what you could be. Then you would look back at the bamboo frame in your hands, sigh, carry on glueing, and the feeling would pass.

There was little to do in the shop besides making kites. The most—well, only—interesting thing about the shop was overhearing the customers. Gossip accompanied any shopper who came in numbers greater than one—which was almost always, because parents and friends would talk amongst themselves while their children marvelled at the kites on sale—and it surprised you how much you could learn from hearsay alone when you were holed up in one room most of the time. As you glued and painted and sewed, you kept a discrete ear out for conversation. This ‘conversation’ covered topics from recent fashion trends to Phantylia to General Jing Yuan. Customers would start whispering when mentioning the latter, tracing how his ship had moved and, more worryingly, how there was a suspicion he had stolen the soul of one of the rich merchant’s daughters living in town because she had been acting strangely. 

Then conversations would turn to lighter topics when the children started eavesdropping, such as how the harvest had been quite good this year and which new shops were opening on the street. When the children were satisfied with their share of the conversation, the adults’ voices would drop again and they would speak of Phantylia. You learned one day that Lady Bailu had gone missing, and the more avid theorists of your customers thought Phantylia had captured her. You were shocked to hear the news of her disappearance, because you knew of Bailu through Qingni, who had been treated by her whenever she got into sailing scrapes and was too afraid to go to Yukong. Having such a thing happen to somebody you knew, at least by second-hand, sent unwelcome shudders down your spine. 

A week later, hearsay circulated that the rich merchant’s daughter whose soul was stolen had been involved in a corruption scandal with some high-ranking officials. People were unsure how to feel about this: some still felt sympathetic towards the young woman who had lost all of her future prospects, while others were glad she got a punishment she deserved. If the kite shop was not short of one thing, it was the range of opinions on each passing topic.

Around this time summer was approaching, and with it came the annual Aurum Kite Festival. Determined not to let Yukong down, you worked harder than ever making all manners of kites to keep up with customer demand, from long dragon kites to little handheld finches. You began talking to kites more and more, because they soon became your only company. You would tell them about your often uneventful day as you assembled their frames, wonder aloud how they would reply to the questions you asked them—you began developing unique voices for each kite—and imagined what kind of person they would be suited to once they were painted and finished. If people had personalities of their own, you reasoned, why couldn’t kites?

“You strike me as loyal and bright-minded,” you said to one shaped like a swallow hanging from the ceiling of the shop. “When you are sold, you will belong to a young disciple dedicated to their work.” To a dark blue kestrel kite, you said, “You have a strong sense of direction and family. It’s only right that this will bring you closer to your loved ones and a higher position in life.” In the corner of the shop, a small diamond-shaped kite hung from a shelf. Feeling sorry for how plain it was, you told it, “One day, somebody will see the goodness in you and love you very much indeed.” You did not think this would be the case, obviously, but it really did look quite miserable surrounded by its colourful animal companions and you could not help yourself. It did not help that this kite reminded you of yourself in its utter lack of remarkable features, and you shoved that idea from your mind as it arose. 

“It’s growing busier each day,” remarked Yukong one day as a customer left the shop with an armful of fox-shaped kites in tow. “It would be easier if the others were here, wouldn’t it?” You nodded, not looking up from the sheet of silk you were cutting. Yukong looked at you and sighed. “Even so, you should take some more breaks. I don’t want you being overworked. Caiyi certainly would not want it for you, either.”

You said that you would take more breaks without really meaning it. There was simply too much to do, and not enough time for anything but sewing and glueing and painting if you were not to fall behind. You would be making kites all day between customers’ arrivals, and sewing far into the night until your eyes strained from the low light in your room. One such night, as you painted some finishing touches onto a pink and gold peacock kite, you reflected on your life so far, and were forced to admit it was rather dull. The work at the shop was taxing if not difficult, and it did not help hearing from Yukong how effortlessly your parents had used to deal with the same situation.

Honourable as carrying forwards your ancestors’ trade was, it sometimes felt the opposite to you: almost suffocating, like your grandparents and grandparents’ grandparents and their grandparents too were watching you from the heavens and pinning you down with their judgement. But this was not their fault, you knew: it was your own for lagging behind. While you were sewing for your life, others in a similar familial position were already married and striding into the world. 

The truth was that you were a middling person on a good day, who was trying to pretend they were somebody they were not—somebody who was competent and worthy of the responsibility which came with being the firstborn. You did not know why you had ended up as the eldest, because you knew a good few people who could do a better job at it than you. Qingni was one.  

For the sake of it, you walked over to the mirror and held each kite in front of you to inspect how it suited you. If you had been hoping for any flattery, you were only met with disappointment: you were far too dreary-eyed for the youthful naivety of the swallow, the kestrel made you look dwarfed and terribly unimportant, and the peacock outshone the monotonal greys and browns of your clothes tenfold. The dark circles beneath your eyes no doubt made matters worse. “Aiya. I look old enough to succumb to mara any day now.” You frowned. “Who knows? Maybe I will.”

But it was only to be expected, you supposed: your ancestors had made kites, not flown them. It made sense that none of them properly suited you. 

All this did not stop you from feeling you wanted a little more from life, however. Not anything grand like being a Cloud Knight, or important as being a sailor, but… something. A yearning you could not quite place your finger on, lingering in the back of your mind, only a touch too far from the ground to reach. A something which offered you more than a life of watching your own kites fly away. 

You resolved to start considering how to achieve this, but it never happened: you could not find the time to spare on top of all the work you were doing—work which, as Yukong herself had noted, was increasing by the day. Instead, you resigned yourself to kite-making harder than ever. You worked so hard, in fact, that Yukong had to come to you personally after a business trip on the first day of the festival and force you to take a break. 

“You’ll work your fingers off if you continue like this,” she chided.

“You told me that if somebody wants good results, they have to put in seven parts of hard work and three of fate⁶,” you replied, recalling words she had said to you when you started your apprenticeship. Yukong pulled out a chair by your workbench. She sat down and watched, lips pursed, as you continued painting a white lion’s face onto a silk kite. 

“I still believe what I said is true,” she said, “but from what I can see, you are doing all ten parts as hard work. You will only exhaust yourself if you continue like this.”

“But what else is there for me to do?” After so long spent making kites and doing little else, the thought of taking a break felt foreign. Where were you even meant to start? Would you need to plan the break, or would you sit around doing nothing? But doing nothing sounded terribly boring, and—

“You’re overthinking again,” Yukong said softly. You caught yourself and rubbed the base of your ear, mumbling an apology. She sighed and suggested, “Why don’t you visit your siblings? Sushang and Qingque have returned for the festival, and Qingni should arrive soon, too. I’m sure they’d be overjoyed to see you.” You were shocked by how simple Yukong made it sound. It would be a lie if you said you did not want to see your sisters, but what about all the festival preparations? As if she could hear your thoughts, Yukong said, “I’ll take over the shop for now.”

You were stunned for the second time in a row. “Really?” 

She nodded. “Now go on, it’ll be good for you. If I see you back in the shop before sunset, I will be very displeased.” Then she added, “Oh, and remember to make an offering at the shrine on your way out.”

You obediently walked over to the ancestral shrine set up in one of the rooms behind the shop and left a smoking incense stick in the bowl—but still you lingered in hesitance by the door until Yukong physically nudged you outside and closed it behind you with a stern look. Left with no alternative, you turned around to face the bustling streets of Aurum Alley. 

You had to admit there was a kind of excitement to it: crowds pushing by in bright clothes and intricate hairstyles, people smiling at each other in the street even with the lingering threat of the ship still hanging in the sky. You flung your old brownish cloak around your shoulders. A spark of anticipation—something you had not felt for months now—dared to light within your chest.

It was extinguished immediately as soon as you stepped into the fray. 

What had looked enjoyable from a distance—the crowds, the noise, the bustle—was overwhelming once you were inside it. Children pushed past you, knocked into your legs, chased after kites you recognised. The streets became a sea of shifting colour, and you really did think you were going insane like a mara-struck after spending so long cramped in the shop. People passing by sent you odd looks. You did not feel like you fitted in here at all. In your drab clothing, you supposed you must truly stick out like some crazy person. 

You pulled the cloak tighter around your shoulders and edged along the corners of the street, trying to draw as little attention to yourself as possible. When a shadow crossed over the town, you shivered and looked up to see the Seat of Divine Foresight stationed just above the houses, like it was mocking the tiny kites for being tied to their strings. The sheer closeness of it almost gave you a heart attack. 

Yet, disturbing as the proximity was, you could not help but feel a certain degree of awe towards the ship. Ever since it first appeared, you had been struck by a similar feeling. You knew about both boats and kites, and the thought of raising such a heavy ship airborne so it glided effortlessly through the sky was a pure miracle. It must be some sort of enchantment, no doubt, or a manipulation of the elements by General Jing Yuan himself. No matter how hard you wrapped your head around it, you were forced to conclude that no degree of engineering genius could account for its existence.

A group of drunken festival-goers jostling into your side recalled your attention rather crudely back to the present moment. You muttered an apology and hurried out of their way. Cursing yourself for going out on such a busy day—why had you thought it might be a good idea? You were much better suited to the things you knew, like dullness and kite-making—you quickened your pace. “This was a mistake,” you mumbled under your breath. “Though it’s only to be expected of me, I suppose. I should go back to the shop.” As you said this, you turned the corner into the main square of town and froze. 

Everywhere was filled to the brim with noise and smells and people: food stalls displaying bamboo steamers full of hot bao, toy shops selling rattle drums and whistles and their own cheap kites, tacky fortune-telling houses claiming they could predict your love life or how rich you would become. Masses of people rushed to and fro, shouting over the noise at each other, all contributing to a cacophony of sound and drinking and, more often than not, flirtation. For the festival, this was nothing out of the ordinary, but the thought of such attentions being directed towards you terrified you even more. 

Suffice to say, you stared at the floor and ran. 

Outside the fortune-telling house, you paused to catch your breath. Just then a white-haired young man loitering around the place caught your eye with a lazy smile. You pressed yourself further into the wall as if you could camouflage your brownish-grey cloak into a white one. What if he tried to talk to you? What were you to say? His clothes were so ornate, what with those billowing sleeves and the intricate needlework on their hems: he must be wealthy, if not some kind of nobility. How drab you must look in comparison! Oh, you really should have stayed at the shop—

The man’s lazy smile spread wider. “I must say,” he began in a smooth voice, “I’ve certainly never seen a reaction like that towards me before. Is this little finch afraid?” 

Uncomfortable embarrassment flushed at your cheeks. The embarrassment was not helped by the fact that this man was unfairly good-looking: he had long, thick white hair which was slightly tousled and gave a casual air about him despite his expensive attire, strongly defined facial features, and eyes the colour of a precious yellow stone. They looked slightly hazy and distant, like when somebody has just woken up from a long sleep. His clothes were well-kept, certainly belonging to one of high status. He wore an elegant hanfu of red, white and grey, with sleeves so long they almost swept the floor. In his hand the man held a folding fan, made from fine white silk and decorated with a red tassel hanging from its handle. But despite the ruffled hair and sleepy look to his eyes, the way he stood was straight-backed and confident, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he turned out to be the leader of some army rather than a noble who had come to the festival for some fun. 

Waveringly, you found your voice. “I, um. Excuse me, sorry. I-I’m trying to find my sisters. So I should, er, go. Now.” You turned around to flee again only to hear the man open his fan and chuckle richly behind you. His dozing, honey-like eyes observed you from above the spread leaves of white silk.

“Then by all means, please, do so. I wouldn’t want to keep you.” He gestured towards you with the fan. “Though, considering how frightened you look, perhaps you wouldn’t be opposed to my escorting you?” There was a teasing lilt to his voice, but he sounded genuine enough. You choked out a refusal and a thank you before rushing past, your tail prickling with shame. His fragrance of peach wood and cassia followed you as you went. What a curious man, you thought to yourself in a daze. 

A few streets later, you heard a familiar voice calling your name. You looked up to see Sushang and Qingque waving at you from the other side of the street. They pushed past the crowd and crossed over to your side, grinning.

“How are you?” Sushang asked as she sidled up to you. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages!”

“That’s probably because you haven’t,” you admitted. It must have been months since you last saw them, if not longer. Then, answering her question, you said, “I’ve been alright. Nothing spectacular, nothing terrible. How about you two?”

The twins exchanged a glance. “We’ve been fine,” Qingque said simply. Sushang nodded in affirmation. You narrowed your eyes at them, sensing something was off. 

The moment you were about to ask what it was, Sushang said, “We and Qingni agreed on something recently. We’ve come to take you away from Aurum Alley.”

Additional Notes:

¹ The number four is considered unlucky within Chinese superstitions because its pronunciation (‘sì’) is very similarly to that of the word meaning ‘death’ (‘sǐ’).

² A reference to the tale of Ye Xian, a story which bears resemblance to the Western fairytale of Cinderella.

³ A reference to Daji, a historical and mythological figure who, in the novel Investiture of the Gods (封神演義; fēngshén yǎnyì), was blamed for the downfall of the Shang dynasty after corrupting the king as his concubine.

⁴ A reference to Leigong, the Taoist god of thunder, who is often depicted as possessing similar features.

⁵ Soul-stealing rumours caused multiple scares at various points during the 18th to early 20th centuries in China. The soul-stealing could be done in various ways, and the stolen souls could be used for various purposes, e.g. animating paper slips to do one’s bidding. It was believed that the victim of the soul-stealing would fall sick and even die.

⁶ “Three parts fate, seven parts hard work (三分天注定, 七分靠打拼; sān fēn tiān zhùdìng, qī fēn kào dǎpīn)” is a Chinese idiom/ chengyu which relates to relying on one’s own hard work and not fate alone to achieve results.

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[Turn to Chapter Two]

[AO3]

[𝐓𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬]

[malovedaptive]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥’𝐬 𝐅𝐥𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐩

[A Howl’s Moving Castle AU based on the book by Diana Wynne Jones (not the Studio Ghibli film), in which Jing Yuan is Howl and the reader (gender-neutral) is Sophie Hatter, among other things. Cross-posted on AO3.]

… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …

You rose to your feet and dusted your branches off. Your legs were still shaking.  “Now, then,” you announced with a confidence you did not feel, “it’s time to find the captain of this ship.”

… … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … … …

In the land of Xianzhou, a place where flying sword and divinations really exist, you, a humble kite maker, are cursed by the Corrupted Cultivator of Scalegorge Wastescape, Phantylia, for reasons beyond your knowing. Unable to stay in your hometown, you flee to the only place that might accept you: General Jing Yuan’s ominous flying ship which has been hovering over Aurum Alley, mysteriously named the Seat of Divine Foresight.

But people say this General Jing Yuan is just as corrupted as Phantylia herself, and that he steals people’s souls for a living…

𝐓𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬

…Chapter One: In which you talk to kites …Chapter Two: In which you are forced to go and seek your fortune …Chapter Three: In which you take a daring leap of faith into unexpected encounters …Chapter Four: In which you discover a number of odd things …Chapter Five: In which you break two of the three rules …Chapter Six: In which Jing Yuan expresses his feelings with very very frightening thunderbolts and lightning …Chapter Seven: In which you break the third rule …Chapter Eight: In which you leave the flying ship on a flying sword …Chapter Nine: In which the shiny talisman remains a mystery …Chapter Ten: In which your following has grown …Chapter Eleven: In which more shiny talismans are found in a strange land …Chapter Twelve: In which you practice your disguise …Chapter Thirteen: In which an infiltration goes south …Chapter Fourteen: In which you do a lot of thinking …Chapter Fifteen: In which Yanqing’s cold worsens …Chapter Sixteen: In which a flying ship moves under the sea …Chapter Seventeen: In which there are more unexpected encounters …Chapter Eighteen: In which you express your feelings with hot tea (among other things) …Chapter Nineteen: In which many long stories come together …Chapter Twenty: In which a contract is concluded …Chapter Twenty-One: In which a curse is lifted

[malovedaptive]

CHILUMI: # a chasmic mistake.

— teaser and table of contents.

summary. lumine is determined to bring the eleventh harbinger down after his crimes against liyue harbour, but the ends to which she will follow him are tested when he descends into the chasm. how much longer will her anger hold up, and how much longer is childe going to tease her for it?

word count. ~20.8k. genre. adventure, enemies to lovers.

posting schedule. every friday starting july 7th, 2023. NOW COMPLETE.

I -- descent. 3.4k II -- establishment. 5.1k III - protection. 2.8k IV - envy. 4.2k V -- notion. 2.5k VI - defense. 2.9k

more info ↓

warnings. blood/violence, action as in combat, nyctophobia, speluncaphobia, insanity/confusion/psychological manipulation, sfw physical contact, cursing (as in d—n, h—l, one instance of b—h), cursing (as in magic/mind control), crying. canon divergence (from right before inazuma), paimon got booted for the extent of the fic and is only mentioned ~3 times.

author's note. I DID IT!!! I FINISHED IT! i haven't posted anything for tartaglia before this point because i couldn't handle short form fics for him lol. so here we are. i believe that this is the longest thing i have ever posted on tumblr so i understand if it's too much for some to read on this particular platform. just know that i love them and love this fic it is my dear dear child and i am excited by the fact that someone else might read it and enjoy it too.

taglist. reply to this post if you would like to be added! @wondermumbles @luvhyun3 @ay-asterisms

comments & discussion are ALWAYS appreciated! thank you for your interest in my fic :)

[malovedaptive]

Kaveh - typos o3o

Its fun showing yall exactly how fast i type while also showing yall how bad i type

[malovedaptive]

hellooo ( ￣▽￣)

first of all thank u for replying to my ask~

i just have a question to ask since it's been bugging me but--

i want to know your thoughts on xiao? like, your characterizations, headcannons, something

i've been progressing my friendship with him and i've been reading all of his character stories. i just want to hear about him from your perspective because i feel like you get people/characters really well~

Oooh honestly Xiao is a hard one. I do a lot of my analyses based upon the performance of the voice actor and what is said, but the EN directors really jumbled Xiao's personality and translation at first making him come across as much more moody than he is meant to be. A lot of his true personality is hidden solely within the CN text, not properly translated into English.

That being said, it's hard to put into words exactly, but my reading on him is that he's a very tired and weary person. He's lived a long life. He is devoted to his duty. But at the same time, I don't think he'd necessarily fight and try to deny death if it came his way. So many people he has loved and have fought by his side have left. He's the last one of his kind. He's running on borrowed time. Let the boy rest.

At least, that's the vibe I got from Xiao before he met the Traveler. The person he shows to the Traveler is different. This is a Xiao hesitantly opening himself to the outside world. One that's not blocking out everyone that comes his way. While I wouldnt say that he's necessarily "curious" about humans, he's become more.......... Idk the right word. I wouldn't say "accepting" of them because he's never denied them. But he's not as quick to put up a wall.

On other notes though, this is more personal headcanons, but I feel that Xiao is a very pure and earnest person. Like I think back to that Lantern Rite where Zhongli tells Xiao to try out a kite (most likely to get him to relax and enjoy life a bit) and Xiao took it as an assignment and relayed his thoughts dutifully. I feel if you ever ask Xiao to do something as a joke, he probably would still do it to his very best.

At the point in Xiao's life now, I feel that he's like....... Slowly learning how to enjoy life. Flying kites, writing poems, enjoying food, remembering past friends—it's like for the first time in his life, he's doing things for himself, not his duty. And I think this is something he's never had before, even when the rest of the yaksha were around. Back then they gave him happiness. Now he's finding it on his own. Learning to have something to live for. Learning that he is actually a person and not a machine. Learning that he has the right to live.

At least that's my take on him. Admittedly I haven't done much of a study on him recently. There may be things that I have off because I'm going off solely from memory. Do you have any headcanons on him? I'd love to hear your thoughts to shape mine more. o3o

[malovedaptive]

hinata and 12.30pm pls !! only if you want to ofc :))

writing/warmup game closed!

shouyou; 12:30pm --

"shouyou! over here!"

shouyou grins as he adjusts his cap and jogs over the warm sand towards you, ducking under the freshly set up beach umbrella and reaching out to hand you a large drink with a tiny paper umbrella tucked into the ice.

you smile, leaning in for a long sip.

"thanks," you say, clinking your glass against his pocari bottle. he takes a long swig. you take the chance to admire the sharp lines of his profile -- the years have been kind to him, and the once slightly awkward pipsqueak of a high school boy has turned into a sturdy (if still not very tall), sun-kissed bundle of well-coordinated muscle with freckled cheeks and a bright, beach-ready smile.

he tugs off his shades and tucks them into the loose collar of his tanktop.

"looks like they're gonna do surfing lessons in a few," you say, jerking your head towards the cluster of boys loitering by the water's edge tsukishima's gangly frame jutting half a head above everyone else, daichi's voice booming over the crash of the waves as he tries to keep the peace.

"wah... sounds like fun!" shouyou laughs, leaning back further on his elbows, wiggling his toes in the warm sand by the edge of the beach blanket. you cock your head.

"not gonna join?"

he leans over to steal a sip of your drink, humming happily as he does; his arm brushes against yours and you try not to shiver at the tingling heat it sends skittering through your veins. he blinks up at you with honey-glazed eyes and a crooked smile.

"i will if you come with me!"

you purse your lips, feeling that ever-familiar tug behind your navel, the air-kissed prickled of goosebumps as they ripple along your skin. this close, you think that you can count every single freckle that dots the bridge of his nose, the high of his cheeks. you can see the faint tan line in the shape of his shades and the fine granules of sand caught in his tangerine hair.

his skin smells like salt and coconuts.

"promise you won't let me fall?" you say, reaching out a hand as if for a handshake.

shouyou jumps to his feet, his smile like the midsummer sun --

"can't promise you that --" he reaches down to wrap his fingers around yours; you feel the hardness of his calluses against the soft of your palm as he pulls you up, tipping you forward into him, even as you lose your balance and topple right into his chest, his other arm banding lightly around your waist.

"-- but i promise i'll always catch you when you do."

[malovedaptive]

since ayato's finally getting a rerun what's your headcanons about him (i just wanna talk about him more)

I hc that he always gets so many marriage requests 😗 (idk what it's called)

I'm honestly not very good at headcanons without prompts, but here's my attempt at it. Sorry for the wait! o3o

Ayato Headcanons

Self-focused - As easygoing as Ayato seems, many would be surprised to know that he can be quite the sore loser. Well, perhaps not with everything. He certainly would not mind if he lost at a childish game like beetle battling. However, for games that he's good at, can you blame the surprise that would flash in his eyes if he lost? Ever the schemer, he takes pride in his ability to strategize. He knows how to utilize his resources to gain the exact results he wants. So if he lost, don't be surprised if he goads you into another game. Certainly the next one will not be a fluke. 

Relationship-focused - While you may be in a relationship or even married to Ayato, it would be foolish to expect him to be completely forthcoming about his business. While he certainly will not lie to you, he will also not tell you the complete truth either. It's not that he desires to keep secrets or thinks you cannot handle the truth. He simply does not see the importance in telling you everything. To him, matters even concerning the Shuumatsuban are simple everyday affairs, nothing worth mentioning. Really, there's nothing to concern you about.

[malovedaptive]

let’s try… akaashi and 11:25am! - @shoyosh

writing/warmup game closed!

akaashi; 11:25am --

"oh, you're early!" you blink at akaashi, stood outside your door with a basket of fruits cradled in his arms.

"yes, the honeydew melons were on sale," he says, stepping across the threshold into the tiny little genkan of your one-bedroom apartment. "it'd be rude of me not to bring a house-warming gift," he says, offering you the basket.

you laugh, rolling your eyes even as you accept the gift. it's such a quintessentially akaashi-thing to do.

"i've really missed you," he says, in that voice of his -- so steady, so matter of fact. you swallow, lick your lips, and jerk your head towards the living room.

"c'mon, you can help me with some of the lunch prep."

in the kitchen, you fall into the familiar rhythm of chatting and banter, so reminiscent of all those nights he'd stayed late to help you clean up, even when the rest of the team had left, or kept you company in between class periods when you were trying to nail down logistics for the team's weekend away games.

"this looks delicious," you say, breathing in the savory scent of the bubbling nabe pot as akaashi carries it to the small table and you both huddle in over it.

"compliments to the chef," akaashi says.

you grin, "i had a good helper."

halfway through lunch, you put down your chopsticks, watching as akaashi blows diligently on a piece of mushroom before carefully biting into it.

"i've really missed you too, keiji."

akaashi looks up, his eyes dark. and then, he smiles, reaches over, and places a fresh mushroom in your bowl.

"eat up, while it's still hot. i'll go cut the honeydew melons for dessert later."

you smile, nod, and lift the bowl to your lips. you think that this soup is the most delicious thing you've eaten all year.

[malovedaptive]

omg omg omg if you feel like it: shoyo + 2:45am!! >:) (thank you mwah) <3

writing/warmup game <3

shouyou; 2:45am --

he's always been a heavy sleeper, but something about the brazillian summers have always made him toss and turn. it's hot, and humid, and there always seems to be a grain of sand he missed while hosing off at the beach, stuck somewhere decidedly inconvenient.

he checks the crow-shaped cuckoo clock perched on his bedside table (a holiday present from you last year) and groans when he sees the early hour.

he grabs his phone and flicks it open, the dim blue-washed light illuminating his face in the relative dark. his finger is hovering over your contact before he can stop himself.

you pick up on the third ring.

"shou? what's up? what time is it over there?"

"uh --" he hedges, suddenly uncertain of why he even called you in the first place, his cheeks prickling with an uncomfortable heat, "sorry to randomly call you --"

"is something wrong?" you sound so worried that he almost laughs, shaking his head as he slumps back into his tangled sheets.

"no, no!" he soothes, "just... couldn't sleep..." he admits, staring up at the moon-slatted ceiling above his bed, his curtains fluttering in the deep-summer breeze.

"oh!" you say, and your relief is palpable through the crackling phone line. "hm... do you... want me to tell you about my day?"

shou grins, wide and sleepy, already soothed by the familiar cadence of your voice. the air smells of salt and ripened fruits and shouyou can't think of anything he wants more than to have you in his arms right now.

"yeah," he says, closing his eyes, his voice soft, "tell me about your day."

[malovedaptive]

I Am the Grand Duke's Doctor Snippet 9 | [masterlist]

I frowned, staring at Sir Nolan as he spoke. I knew I really should’ve been listening to what he was saying. Even though I did not find any interest in his comings and goings as a knight, I hardly wanted to be considered a neglectful partner. Still, with the way he was sitting so calmly before me, I couldn’t help but find it a bit strange. I mean, he supposedly liked me, didn’t he? But he didn’t seem even a tad bit in love. 

That being said, what was love anyway? Though I agreed to become his partner, his “girlfriend,” if you will, I didn’t think it could necessarily be said that I loved him. I certainly was physically attracted to him. I didn’t mind when he was around me. I found him amusing at times. I certainly didn’t see any harm in spending the rest of my life with him. But did that constitute as love? Did Sir Nolan feel the same way about me?

I gave a low hum as my gaze slowly trailed to his lips. He certainly had a lovely pair of them, not too thin, not too full. Come to think of it, human lovers commonly kissed each other, didn’t they? And judging by the way some of them went at it, it certainly seemed to be an indication of interest. Though I knew part of it was physical, I wasn’t foolish enough to deny that part of the pleasure was doing it with someone you had feelings for. So would I feel that way if I kissed him?

Standing up, I walked around the table to him and crossed my arms. Kissing him certainly was a shot. But how was one supposed to do it, exactly?

“Miss Mila? Is there something–”

“Stay quiet for a moment, Sir Nolan. I’m trying to figure this out,” I muttered as I leaned forward, eyes still glued to his lips. If I went straight in, my nose would certainly collide with his. So… Tilting my head, I leaned forward a bit more in an attempt to estimate my trajectory. Yes, this certainly would do. So–

A laugh interrupted my thoughts. Finally pulling eyes from his lips, I was met with an almost pitying, yet amused expression. The way it seemed to mock me quickly struck a nerve. Yet before I could say anything, he spoke.

“Are you trying to kiss me, Miss Mila?” he asked, his eyes twinkling. Feeling the corner of my mouth twitch, I turned away.

“Yes, but I don’t think I really want to anymore.” I replied, straightening up. “I don’t think you deserve it.” But my irritation only led him to laugh even more. 

“But that’s not how you kiss someone.” he said, taking my hands before I could walk away. “Would you like me to teach you?” I hated the way his voice sounded, as if he were coaxing a stubborn child. I still refused to look at him. But… it was a tempting offer. I heard he had been in a relationship before I came along. And, if he did kiss me the right way, I would get more insight regarding my feelings for him. So turning back, I eyed him irritably. 

“Only if you stop talking to me like that.” Apparently the way I said it served for something, because his golden eyes turned honey warm at my irritation.

“Of course,” he answered in that gushy way of his when he was exceptionally pleased with me. Feeling my ears go warm, I sighed. Really, he was impossible to understand. But before I knew it, instead of standing up to face me, I found myself pulled into his lap. Pushing his chest away, I couldn’t help but gape in confusion. 

“Do we need to be this close!?” I squeaked, but the arms he had around my waist prevented me from retreating too far away. 

“You said you wanted to learn, didn’t you?” The teasing sound of his voice paired with how it seemed to drop ever so slightly into that lower register made it feel as if ants were crawling down my spine. It felt as if a weight dropped into my lower abdomen. 

“Yes, and I said if you stopped talking to me with that voice!” But wrapping his arms around me, he pulled me close and dropped his lips next to my ear.

“Do you… dislike it when I talk to you like this, Mila?” It felt as if he jumpstarted my heart into overdrive. The way the low timber of his breath caressed my ear made me antsy, as if I had to do something right this moment but didn’t know what. Unable to figure out what to do with my hands, I wrapped my arms around him and squeezed him as tightly as I could while burying my face in his shoulder. But unfortunately, if anything, I was always truthful. 

“I don’t… dislike it…” I mumbled. “It makes me feel weird. But I don’t see what this has to do with kissing…” The honesty I freely gave bubbled up a laugh in him as he hugged me close. He was pleased, or perhaps amused, so much so he even planted a kiss upon my hair. 

“Okay, okay. You’re right. I’ll stop,” he chuckled in his normal voice. Letting go his grip and pulling away, he then cupped my cheek and gazed at me with those honeyed warm eyes. If I had to be honest, it was… odd to see with how much affection he was gazing at me. Like the lower register of his voice, it made me feel strange, as if he were seeing into my very heart. It made me feel vulnerable in a way I wasn’t used to. But… I couldn’t say I disliked it. 

“I’ll kiss you now, Mila. Close your eyes,” he said as he leaned in close, prompting me to frown. 

“How am I supposed to know how to do it or if I’m doing a good job if I can’t see you?” I questioned. But he simply laughed.

“You’ll know. Trust me.” So letting out a sigh, I shut my eyes and waited. And waited. And waited. 

“Just how long are you planning to take—”

“Patience,” he mumbled, sounding much closer than he did before, close enough to feel the exhale of his breath against my lips. It sent a jolt through my skin, nearly prompting me to move away. But feeling his hand curl around my waist and his thumb brush gently upon my cheek, I forced myself to stay. And then, after a moment, I felt a gentle brush against my eyelid. It was soft, almost barely noticeable, yet sent a shiver down my spine. Then came a kiss upon the tip of my nose, then the corner of my lips. It was odd, so odd. The kisses were soft, barely there, and yet my nerves felt ignited and alive. I couldn’t help but shake in anticipation. 

As I felt his forehead rest against mine, I knew what would come next. I could even feel his breath against my lips. But when they didn’t come as quickly as I would have liked, I found myself leaning in impatiently. He chuckled, no doubt at my impatience.

“Okay, okay,” he said, voice oozing in adoration, before finally brushing his lips against mine.

Like the kisses before, this was gentle, barely pressing against me before pulling back not too long later. But just as quickly as it disappeared, his lips pressed against mine once more. The pressure was firmer this time, but not insistent. But unlike what I expected, he didn’t move as if he were waiting for something. For me, perhaps? But what was I supposed to do? He knew I had never done this before—

“Don’t think, Mila,” I heard him whisper as he pulled back ever so slightly. “Just do what feels right.” And once more, his lips were upon mine, gently and sweetly. So, leaning into him and letting my hand cup his cheek, I simply tried. Tilting my head to the side, I hesitantly pressed my lips against his, and feeling him smile, he responded. 

It was an odd sensation, nothing I had ever felt before. My body was tingly and my head felt light. There was something about the way his thumb rubbed circles upon my waist or how he cupped my cheek so delicately. Perhaps it was the sounds he’d make when I responded in a way that pleased him or when he’d remind me of things like to breathe through my nose in that husky voice of his. I didn’t know what I was doing, but all I knew was that I wanted more. 

Much to my dismay, though, I felt him slowly pull away as he placed a few last kisses upon my lips. Though I tried to follow, he retreated before I could ask for more. Resting his forehead against mine, there must had been something pleasing with what he saw when he opened his eyes, for they crinkled in pleasure as what almost looked to be a smug smile found its way to his lips.

“Did you enjoy that, Mila?” he teased as I glanced away with a pout. 

“Perhaps if I had more,” I muttered in annoyance. My skin still felt tingly and my muscles tensed and antsy as if they were meant to do something more. I wanted to do something more. I wanted… something. To tear off my skin? To punch a wall? I wasn’t sure. But as if he understood, he simply chuckled before hugging me close and placing a kiss upon my forehead. 

“We can save that for next time.” He said, gazing at me with those molten honey golden eyes of his. Though I always noticed them, there was something within them that I simply could not ignore anymore. 

“You…” I paused, glancing away, feeling the tips of my ears burn. If I looked anymore, they would certainly set me alight. “You really like me, don’t you?”

He laughed then, taking my hand and brushing his lips against my knuckles. 

“Is it that obvious?”

[malovedaptive]

I Am the Grand Duke's Doctor

Synopsis

Fill this later lol

Masterlist

Snippet 1

Snippet 2

Snippet 3

Snippet 4

Snippet 5

Snippet 6

Snippet 7

Snippet 8

Snippet 9

Personal Thoughts

There's not much to say about this. These are the snippets I wrote to feel out Mila and Nolan. This is the planning feeling out stages that eventually evolved into I Am the Demon Queen's Doctor. But the reason I wanted to write it in the beginning because like.... In otome isekai, the duke is like... ALWAYS SO MEAN TO THE DOCTORS??? Like why are you threatening that poor doctor with death man, leave the doctor alone. ;w; So I wanted to write something like that.

I have more to say but I'm lazy, so I'll write it later.

[malovedaptive]

I Am the Grand Duke's Doctor Snippet 1 | [masterlist]

“Are you… threatening me?” I asked with a laugh of disbelief as I stood from his fiancee’s side. “You’re threatening me, the only doctor willing to move all the way to the frigid north after every single previous doctor you had quit? The only one that has the skills to properly attend to your soldiers and wrestle them back from the brink of death? Are you sure you want to continue, my lord?”

With every word that left my lips, I took another step toward the Grand Duke. After all, how dare he? All I said was that his fragile fiancee had a simple cold and fever and he threatened me with death for not diagnosing her with something worse? My hands shook in fury. Why did I continue to put up with his abuse? Sure the pay was great, but was it really worth it? 

Not surprisingly, my fury did not scare the Grand Duke. He was much larger and stronger than me, after all. But against all odds, he gave in. 

“Keep an eye on my fiancee. If you take a single step from her side before she wakes, I’ll have your head.” With that, he turned and left the room. 

After staring at the empty space he left behind for a few seconds, I laughed. Loudly. Again! Again he threatens me! I collapsed back into my seat at the side of my patient’s bed. I didn’t get it. How could he not see how utterly obsessed he was with his fiancee? And how did she put up with it? It was not healthy! What a control freak!! Sure his fiancee was more on the fragile side, but it wasn’t like she was going to die!

I groaned, rubbing my temples deeply. I was tired. So tired. If I didn’t have to put up with the Duke, this would be the perfect job. Everyone loved me. The maids, the butlers, the cooks, the soldiers. I did my job and I did it well. I even made salves and moisturizers in my free time to aid them with their heavy duties. But the Duke.

The Duke.

He treated anyone directly under him like shit. I felt worse for his poor aides. Poor things had to work with the Duke for multiple hours a day, putting up with the duke’s mood swings and tendencies to avoid paperwork. 

And now?

I sighed.

Perhaps it would be the best learning how to pee in the cup because, knowing the Duke, if he came back while I was on a bathroom break, there would go my head. Ugh. I didn’t want to put up with this anymore. 

[malovedaptive]

I Am the Demon Queen's Doctor Chapter 1 | 3.5 words | [masterlist]

“And for the highlight of this evening,” I heard him begin dramatically, no doubt gesturing grandly before the crowd, “I present to you the highlight of this evening!” Shoved from behind, I stumbled forward only to trip over the apparent step I couldn’t see in front of me. Gasps of anticipation echoed through the hall, making the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. I gritted my teeth. If it wasn’t obvious when when I was initially captured, it was crystal clear now. Before I could react, the hood was torn from my head. 

“An elusive elf in the flesh!” The auctioneer announced. Oohs and aahs immediately erupted from the audience, and though I was blinded by the bright lights after being in the dark for so long, I had no doubts their eyes were glued greedily to me. They were probably salivating at the sight. I wasn’t so divorced from the human world to know how much they coveted beings like me. To own one represented a high feat of human achievements. It was absolutely disgusting. Yet at the same time, I knew it was my fault I ended up in this situation. 

Though the humans believed me to be, I actually was not a full elf. I was raised by my grandfather after my mother and father passed early. But being raised in an elven village, unreachable by humans, I often found myself contemplating my mixed lineage. My mother was a human and I knew the human city where she came from. A part of me wondered if I could find out more about her if I visited. I knew it would be dangerous, but if I disguised myself well, I didn’t see the harm in taking a short trip. 

Unfortunately I was a bit too naive when I finally decided to make the decision to leave. Leaving a note for my grandfather, I left in the dead of the night. I thought a hooded cloak would be enough to hide my identity. I didn’t want to waste the potions I had of glamour too quickly. But not even five minutes out of the enchanted woods that kept the elven villages separate from the world was I cornered by a group of thugs. Not too long later, I was with a chain around my neck and thrown into a cage. 

Before you say it, I already know. I was a complete idiot. Although I knew there was a high demand in the human black market for beings like me, I underestimated how bad it became since the Demon Lord started to reign. A smart person would have done the research to figure out the best place to leave the enchanted woods, as well as how to dress. A smart person would have also brought something for self-defense. But alas. Everything was 20/20 In hindsight. 

So as I was dragged to my feet before the crowd of greedy human eyes and the auction began, the corner of my lip curled as I watched them dressed in their theater masks sitting at the edge of their seats. With frenzied excitement, they cried out their bets. Hundreds. Thousands. Tens of thousands. Pigs, the lot of them. Slobbering filthy grotesque pigs. If any single one of them thought they would be able to keep me for long, they were sorely mistaken. I wasn’t as helpless as I seemed—

And then I saw it out of the corner of my eyes. There upon the balcony sat a woman with shining baby blue eyes and blonde hair in ringlets. The way her eyes watched me felt odd, as if the only reason she came to this auction was to have me. But that look in her eyes was not greed like the rest. It was calculated, purposeful. She desired me for reasons larger than myself. So when she raised her bidding paddle, I found my breath caught in my throat. 

“One million gold.” 

Almost immediately, the crowd went silent. Then not a moment later, it dropped into hysterics. I could hear the auctioneer shakily thank the woman as the hood was thrown back over my head and I was lead stumbling away. The sound even traveled all the way down in the prisons where I was thrown back in my cage. The way their cries echoed against the walls even made me feel for the first time unsettled. I could handle being a trophy, but whatever it was that I was going to be led into by this woman was not something I wanted to look forward toward. 

Fortunately, or unfortunately? I didn’t have much time to stew in my thoughts. Not minutes after, a loud boom echoed. I could hear the prisoners in the cages next to mine whimpering and cowering where they lay. Screams could be heard from above. It sounded as if the auction was being raided. And if that was the case, that meant there was a chance to be saved. But what could I do? I still had a hood thrown over me with my arms bound tight. 

Not before long, I could hear a man stumbling into the room, swearing loudly. Unlocking my cage, I winced as the hood was torn from my head once more. Immediately my eyes locked on two things: the keys he held in his hand and the fact that there were children to be seen in some of the cages. But I didn’t have long to think. Yanking me to my feet, he hauled me to the door. Doing my best to resist, I didn’t even have time to react when I was suddenly thrown to the floor, cheek stinging. 

“Shit, I shouldn’t have done that,” he mumbled, his voice slurring. “Get up, wench. They may have taken everything from me this time, but once I escape and sell you, I’ll… I’ll be able to…” It didn’t take long to figure out why he was acting so strangely. The front of his clothes were dark and wet, no doubt stabbed through. Really, it was amazing to consider how he was still standing with the amount of blood he probably already lost. And if he was losing his motor controls, that meant I still had a chance. 

Not giving myself time to doubt or be afraid, I scrambled to my feet, dashing forward and headbutting him, sending us both to the ground. As his keys were sent clattering to the side, I did my best to crawl after them, securing the ring in my mouth. If I just maneuvered myself properly, I would be able to free myself and then everyone else and—

But I had no time to do any of that. Feeling a hand yank back my hair, my head was then slammed down into the stone floor. Not even a moment later, I was spun around and hands were upon my throat. Through the hazy vision, I could see the man on top of me, eyes wild as he mumbled something about only putting me to sleep for a little while. Which in the haze of my mind, was still rather dumb because didn’t he know that strangling a person killed them? As my sight darkened, I couldn’t get over how much of an idiot this guy was. Or rather, how much of an idiot I was.

But when the grip suddenly loosened, I gasped for air, crying out in pain as it stung going down my throat. Rolling over, I curled into a ball as tears fell down my cheeks. Even though I knew I should’ve been having other thoughts considering I almost died, the only thing in my mind was how this was a horrible shitty day and that I was an idiot. I was stolen by traffickers, strangled, probably had a concussion, and still had to escape. I just wanted this day to be over with already.

Though I could barely think as I laid there gathering my bearings, in the back of my mind, I could almost hear the sound of metal footsteps in the prison and locks being opened, cries of relief and murmurs of reassurance. I even felt as if I was being gathered into someone’s arms, with the sound of someone whispering that I was safe into my ear. Even through the metal of his armor as I was slowly nodding off, I couldn’t help but notice he had the calming scent of pine. 

———

While usually waking was experienced as a gradual and gentle thing, I was jolted awake with a major bitch of a headache. It hurt, it hurt so bad. That wasn’t even considering how painful it was to breathe. I groaned, slamming my hand down multiple times against the plush of the bed. I had to get up. I knew what I had to gather to get rid of this headache, but I could barely bring myself to move, even upon the sound of a door opening. 

“Oh! You’re awake!” the girlish voice gasped. “I must let her highness know—”

“Wait!” I called, my voice gravelly and hoarse. Peeking up blearily, I glared at her. “I will not listen to anything you have to say to me until you get me the following three things: preening nettle, sleeping grass, and yellow clover. Fresh, dried, I don’t care. They should be common enough. And… wait. I need five things, actually. A mortar and pestle and a glass of water too. Thank you.”

Though the girl seemed to reel back in confusion for a few seconds, she nodded before running off. Satisfied she understood my command, I dropped my head into the pillow once more. Though I knew I should have been confused or even scared, that quick look I had of my surroundings told me that I wasn’t in any danger. First off, I was in a bed, one made of cotton and feathers, not of straw. And then was the deep red wallpaper decorated with flowers and birds. And the last was the girl, a maid, I think. Whoever it was that saved me was making sure I was treated like a queen. Which meant…

An uncomfortable feeling settled in my gut. Whoever took me here needed me for something. And they knew the fact they saved me made me honor bound to them. Which meant… whatever was about to occur within the next few hours was not going to be any good for me. 

Still, if there was one thing I had to say about the people that “saved” me, it was that they definitely ran a tight ship. Not ten minutes after I gave that made my request, she arrived back with everything in tow. Though the herbs I asked for weren’t uncommon, it wasn’t as if most people had them on hand. I would have assumed she would need to take a quick trip to the store or a garden first, but whoever owned this building seemed to have everything on hand. 

I didn’t give myself much time to marvel, though. The bitch of a headache wasn’t getting any better and I refused to deal with it. So though I knew that maid had something to say, I ignored her as I painfully climbed my way out of bed and took the items from her. Placing them upon the nearest table, carelessly plucked three leaves of preening nettle, six stems of sleeping grass, and two clovers. It was a heavy dosage, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. Throwing them in the mortar, I haphazardly mashed them together. Then after pouring the cup of water inside, I brought the bowl up to my lips and drank eagerly. Though some of the liquid dribbled down my lips onto my clothes, it was a price I was willing to pay.

Slamming the mortar back onto the table, I waited. One second. Five seconds. Ten. And my headache melted away. Admittedly, it wasn’t the best job. I was feeling a slight wave of nausea coming along due to the overdose, but it was something I was willing to deal with. But seeing I could now finally think, I turned back to the maid. 

“You. Bring the woman that brought me here. I know she’s been waiting to speak to me.” With wide eyes, the maid then nodded and rushed out the door. Taking a seat upon the couch, I sighed, rubbing my temples gently. I just wanted to go home, but if my intuition was telling me correctly, I would be stuck with something very tedious for a long while. What a pain. 

Not before long, the door finally opened and a woman walked in. Though she was not wearing a mask anymore, her baby blue eyes and curled blonde hair was still just as eye-catching as it was the day I first saw her. She was beautiful, stunning even. But she seemed frail. Was it how thin her arms were? Or the paleness of her skin? As she came and took a seat before me, a few others followed, the maid from before and two knights. This meant that, not only was this woman rich, but she was a person of nobility, even royalty. I wanted to scowl. This was going to be tedious. 

“How are you feeling?” she finally asked once everyone got settled. “You’ve been asleep for the past three days.” Though worry was reflected in her eyes, I still found myself suspicious. I already had a bad track record with humans and I wasn’t about to trust this one anytime soon. “I’ve been worried—”

“Who are you and why have you brought me here?” I demanded, crossing my arms. She may have wanted to get within my good graces, but I wasn’t in the mood to consider such pleasantries. She wanted me for something and I expected her to be honest about it.

“How dare you talk to Her Highness in that way! Don’t you know who you are—” The maid yelled, but from a simple raised hand of the woman, the maid quieted. But just as I expected, this woman was royalty. Kill me. But now that I was taking a closer look at the woman, it certainly made sense. She definitely had that sort of air to her and held herself high. But still. Would a woman of royalty look so—

“Before we get to that, let me introduce myself. I am Layla Asmodeus, wife of Sion Asmodeus.” Asmodeus? The name certainly sounded familiar. Even despite how secluded the elven villages were, some news of the outside world came around. And Asmodeus was one of those names. If I remembered correctly, it was a very important name. Something to do with the Daemonium Kingdom. Yes, wasn’t it—

Oh kill me a billion times over.

“Yes, I’m the Queen of the Daemonium Kingdom.”

I couldn’t help myself. I let out a groan, an exceedingly loud groan, and went right back to rubbing my temples. All of this nonsense simply because I had the sudden and foolish urge to find out more about my mother. I ignored all of my grandfather’s warnings and look what happened. Never again would I be stubborn and not listen. Now I would have to serve the famed wife of the Demon King. 

“Okay, fine, of course you are. Then what do you need me for, Your Highness?”

“I need you to—” And then came a cough. Then another, a wet one. Looking up from my misery, I froze upon seeing blood dribbling down the queen’s chin. Immediately the knights jumped into action as the maid dashed out the door calling for a doctor. But before the knight could take her away, she held out her hand once more. 

“It’s okay,” she mumbled between coughs. It seemed her coughing fit was starting to die down. And after she spent a few moments gathering her bearings, she wiped her lips with a handkerchief and turned her attention to me once more. 

“As you can see, I am dying.” My eyes narrowed as I looked her over. Though she did seem to not be well, I didn’t think that necessarily meant— “I do mean it. Ever since I was a child, I had this illness, but the older I’ve become, the worse it’s been getting. It took everything I had to make the journey here, and I don’t imagine I will be lasting two more years in this state. I wanted to meet you because I heard elves are knowledgeable with medicines and illnesses. Would you be able to cure me?”

I frowned, eyeing her over more. Well, if there was anything to say, this woman certainly came to the right person. Against common belief, not all elves were well versed in the medical arts. Some were mages while others created tools with magic stones. But my grandfather, the person that raised me, was a famous doctor in his younger years. Kingdoms and empires would call him from all over. And he imparted all his knowledge onto me. 

“Is that the price I’ll have to pay for saving me?” I asked. 

She nodded. I sighed. Standing up, I held out a hand to her.

“You may call me Mila, Your Highness. I will serve you dutifully up until the day I am fully able to cure you. This is my vow to you.” Taking my hand, she smiled.

“Thank you, Mila.”

“Then I will get started now, Your Highness,” I announced as I flipped her hand over and examined her veins. Dark purple, almost black. Placing my hand against her forehead, it was a few degrees higher than normal. Pupils dilated. Lymph nodes slightly swollen. Pressing my ear against her chest, her heart rate was quickened and her breathing sounded wet. Seeing that I could wrap my fingers around her wrist and overlap my fingers, she probably was not eating well either. 

As I went about my work, I could hear the sounds of outrage from one of the knights. No doubt he thought I was too close to the Queen, but I hardly would be able to figure out what was wrong if I didn’t check her out myself. As I ran across the symptoms in my head, there were a few things that could be ailing her, all relatively easy to deal with, but those veins… If those were an indicator of anything, she was right. She wouldn’t be alive for much longer. I would have to run tests. But this was not the moment for that.

“As your doctor, this is my first order. Have one of the knights carry you back to your room and do your best to sleep. I will have some things for you once you wake,” I said as I made my way to the desk in the room. I would have to gather a few things to at least increase her energy and general health before anything. And—

“I… I don’t need to be carried. I can walk myself. And I just got up. If you have any tests to run, we can do them—” I turned and glared at her.

“No. There are bags under your eyes indicating you haven’t slept. You started wavering when I ran my initial diagnostics. And you are weak. A knight will carry you back to your room and you will go to sleep. Am I clear?” I crossed my arms and raised a brow, daring her to argue. And she certainly did try with her mouth gaping like a fish trying to figure out what to say. 

“Your Highness, I think it would be best to listen to Miss Mila,” one of the knights finally said as he walked over and knelt next to the queen’s side. Now that I got a better look at him, he was a handsome thing with light brown hair and honey yellow eyes. Still, as I took a closer look at him, he didn’t exactly seem human like the other knight. But that was more intuition than anything. Letting out a sigh, the queen then nodded.

“Thank you, Sir Nolan. I will be relying upon you. Then I shall see you at a later time, Miss Mila. If you have any requests, please direct them to the staff of the estate. I instructed them to take care of you.” With that, she was carried from the room and took her people with her. Collapsing upon the bed, I gave out a sigh. Well, at the very least, it wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be. Serving one person wouldn’t be that bad. 

Still, it was rather strange that she was in such a bad state despite being a queen of a powerful kingdom. While I did know that demons had the vitality to not require medical care, certainly there should have been some doctors within the kingdom. And if not, the Demon King could have requested some to come from the neighboring kingdoms. Surely the queen could have been treated by someone from the church. 

I hummed. On top of treating the queen, I would have to learn more about the world. I heavily underestimated how much I knew. I knew I was sheltered by my grandfather, but I didn’t realize it was that bad. Hmm… Well, the queen did say the staff would be willing to help me. I suppose I had enough time before the potion wore off to meet with them. 

[malovedaptive]

I Am the Demon Queen's Doctor Chapter 2 | 2.2 words | [masterlist]

I learned a few things while the queen was asleep. Though it was quite clear she didn’t like me, the human maid from before, Isadora, helped fill in a few of the blanks. I was currently in the city of Sulphur located on the border of the Daemonium Kingdom. On the other side of the border was the Springfell Empire, where the auction took place. And bordering to the north was Inlaneas, the Elven forest where I came from. 

When I was kidnapped, I was taken on the Springfell side of the border. Apparently because the Daemonium Kingdom houses many non-humans, it’s often for them to be trafficked and kidnapped along the border. So it was within one of Springfell’s border cities that the auction was held. After the queen attended and saved everyone being sold, they made their way back to Daemonium’s side to an estate in Sulphur. 

As Isadora told me all of this, she seemed rather surprised, if not a bit judgmental I even had to ask these questions. Apparently all of this was supposed to be base knowledge for most people. I couldn’t help but feel if not a bit embarrassed with my ignorance. Though even I knew elves were prideful things and did not like getting involved with the dealings of others, I thought I was more open-minded than most. But even I was clueless on many things. 

At the very least, though, I wasn’t useless. It only took a short while to gather all the necessary materials I would need. There were a few things I needed to make before the queen awoke. First was the obvious, a soup that boosted vitality. Second was a crude solution that measured the mana levels in her blood. It wasn’t exact, but would serve its purpose. The third were sedative pills I would have her take every evening before she went to sleep.  

As I started preparing them, I couldn’t help but be rather amazed with the queen. Apparently it was a six day trip from the capital city where the palace was. How she managed to make it this far and attend the auction on top of dealing with her illness showed quite a lot of willpower. No doubt they took their time making the trek. And in the same way, I knew it would take time to make the trip back. 

But still, I couldn’t stop thinking about why she decided to make such a long trip just for the chance to find an elf. Didn’t she have servants she could’ve sent in her stead? Even more than that, as much as elves preferred to keep separate, even they wouldn’t be able to turn down the request of the Demon King. She could’ve went that route instead. It all simply did not make any sense. Though I knew it was dumb to think so, it felt as if she went through all of that just to find me specifically. 

Once I got word from Isadora that the queen awoke, I placed what I made upon a cart and let her lead me to the queen’s quarters. There, standing in front of her doors, were the two knights from before. There was the non-human one with light brown hair and golden eyes, and a human one with dark brown eyes and dark brown hair. The former regarded me politely, while the latter’s eyes seemed to narrow with dislike. Before Isadora could open the door, I held a hand out to the one that didn’t like me.

“Since we will be working together, it will do us both good to have each other’s names. I am Mila. What is your name, human?” As I spoke, my voice took on a flat tone common with elves. I heard humans didn’t particularly like it, but I couldn’t help the way I was raised. After eyeing my hand for a few moments, the man finally relented and took it to shake. 

“You can call me Marcus.” Nodding, I then turned to the other knight. 

“And you are?”

“Nolan, Miss Mila.”

And with that settled, I took control of the car once more and nodded to Isadora to open the door. There, inside upon the magnificent canopy bed of reds and purples, lay the queen. It didn’t seem the bags under her eyes got any better and she still was just as pale as before. Still, she greeted me with a smile and gestured to her side for me to come. 

“How did you sleep, Your Highness?” I asked as I placed my hand against her forehead, then her neck. It seemed that her fever had gone down. Her heart rate wasn’t as quick either. She laughed wryly.

“Not as well as I would hope, unfortunately.” she replied. Though the diagnoses I had in mind for her did not correlate with insomnia, there were many other reasons why she would have it. Anxiety, perhaps? An unsettled mind? Regardless, if she didn’t take to the sleeping pills I made this evening, I would have to make them stronger. 

“Any sleep is better than none. Would you prefer dinner in bed or at the table?” 

“At the table, please.” Though it took her a few moments to maneuver herself, I let her take my arm for support and lead her to the table. Placing the bowl of soup I made before her, I then handed her a spoon. 

“From here on out, you will be following a diet I set for you. What I make for you will be subject to change as I get to know your health better. Today’s soup is made with a blend of herbs and shredded chicken. However, please drink it slowly. It is—” The queen erupted into a fit of coughing, no doubt after taking a spoonful of the soup. Sighing, I handed her a cup of water.

“As I said before, drink slowly because the soup is sour. It may irritate your throat if you drink too quickly.” After taking a few gulps of water, she wiped her lips with a napkin and gazed up at me with the most pathetic watery eyes. It was as if she suddenly turned into one of the bunnies my grandfather kept for fun.

“Ahem, do you think you could alter the recipe to make it a little more… palatable?” she asked coughing a few times more. 

“Sure, if you’d like to die earlier,” I answered immediately, but when I felt heavy glares upon my back and the even more pathetic watery-eyed expression of the queen, I let out another sigh, a long one. “I will try, but I cannot make any guarantees.”

It certainly would not be impossible to fulfill the queen’s wishes. There were ingredients that did the same things but tasted better. But that would mean turning a simple concoction into an even more complex one. Materials interacted in different ways, after all. I would have to calculate the ratios even more than I would normally do. And that wasn’t even talking about procuring the ingredients. It probably would be best if I requested access to a garden once we got back to the palace. 

Once she finished and was seated back in bed, I then reached for the tool I procured earlier. Standing back up and turning for her, I was given a clear view of the queen freezing and turning even paler than before, her eyes glued to the syringe in my hand. 

“You’re not going to… stick that in me, are you?” she asked, her voice shaky and timid. Raising a brow, I tilted my head to the side in confusion.

“Of course I am. How else am I supposed to diagnose you?” I questioned. But tears filled her eyes once more as she cowered where she lay.

“S-Surely there is another way to do it, yes?” she begged. I crossed my arms.

“There are, but they aren’t nearly as effective. Now don’t move. I’ll be quick.” But as I walked up to her, she quickly scooted to the other side of the bed. When I walked over to that side, she moved back. Smiling brightly and feeling the corner of my lips twitch, I placed my hands upon my hips.

“Ah, so you really do want to die, then. I see. That’s fine with me. If you don’t need me, can I take this as the end of our contract?” I questioned cheerily. Almost immediately, her expression wavered. 

“I do want to get better, but… isn’t there another—”

“No.” I stated, still smiling. “It’s either this or death. You choose, Your Highness.” Fully expecting a stalemate, I felt a rush of relief when Isadora approached. 

“If I held your hand, Your Highness, would that make you feel better?” she asked soothingly. “You came all this way to get better. Surely you don’t want to give up now, right?” Apparently the queen was weak to her maid, for she eventually surrendered. Even though it was my first time doing it, it took only a minute to disinfect the area, draw blood from her veins, and place a small bandage over it. It was only once I stepped away that the queen finally calmed, though the tears in her eyes and cold sweat upon her neck were still visible. 

Not wanting to bother with the ridiculousness of the queen, I glanced closely at her blood within the syringe. It was dark, dangerously so. Certainly explained the state of her veins. Opening the vial of the solution I made before, I dropped into it a few drops of blood and squinted, observing as the color of the liquid changed. It was just as I expected. Which meant… I let out a breath. This would be a lot of work. 

“Your Highness, correct me if I’m wrong. At an early point in your life, probably when you were still an infant or perhaps a little older, you had a close call with death. Then, from childhood on, you had never been able to use magic. Every time you tried, it’d rebound upon you, thus hurting your body. And not only that, every year during the summer, you spent most of your time ill and in bed. Am I correct?” Her highness nodded, seemingly shocked. 

“Yes, you’re right. The priests always said this was because I was born with… Regardless, yes, it is as you say.” She replied, as if pained. I snorted.

“No doubt they told you some dumb superstition, I’m guessing. Even though humans have access to our studies, only a few ever pay attention, unfortunately,” I sighed with a roll of my eyes. “No, you have a rare condition called Kaiel’s Disorder. Mainly, due to some trauma during your childhood, your mana organ must have been damaged in a specific way. Because of it, excess mana seeps into your bloodstream instead of being released back into the air. The raised mana in your blood causes a toxicity that damages your organs. This is why you used to get sick during the summer, when mana overpowers divine energy in the air. And it’s also why it’s gotten much worse since you moved to the Daemonium Kingdom.

“Unlike other places, the Daemonium Kingdom exists on lands that are high in mana density. This is why supernatural beings thrive within its lands. Places high in mana density results in miasma, which is already damaging to normal human beings, but is even more dangerous for someone like you.” After I finished speaking, everyone stared at me with widened eyes. 

“You… discovered all of that through a simple test?” Her highness asked in shock. I shrugged.

“Well, it could be a few other things, but that’s what’s the most likely. When I have access to more ingredients and tools, I will be able to run more tests.” I answered with a yawn. “Now take the pills I made for you. They will help you with sleep. I think the headache potion is beginning to wear off on me, so I’ll be heading to bed. I’ll check on you in the morning, okay?” She nodded. With that, I bowed before her and left the room. 

It was only until half a minute walking that I noticed that I had a follower. Turning back, there was one of her highness’ knights, the one with golden eyes. Raising a brow, I placed a hand on my hip.

“Is there something wrong, Sir Nolan?” I asked curiously. He smiled gently in return.

“I thought I’d walk you back to your room, Miss Mila,” he replied, prompting me to frown.

“Why? It’s not like I need the help. I am not ill like your queen.”

“Perhaps, but you are still recovering. Please, allow me to walk you back for my peace of mind.” Watching him for a few moments, I finally let out a sigh.

“Fine. For your peace of mind then, Sir Nolan,” I answered back before turning around and heading back to my room. I didn’t speak for the rest of the time, and neither did he. Once we reached my room, he opened the door for me and bowed politely.

“Good night, Miss Mila. I hope you sleep well,” he said kindly. Nodding in return, I stepped into my room, made a beeline to my bed, and was quickly out like a light.

[malovedaptive]

I Am the Demon Queen's Doctor

Synopsis

Foolish enough to get captured by traffickers, Mila finds herself saved by none other than the Demon King's wife. And the price for such saving? To cure the queen from an illness that would no doubt take her life within two years. Should be simple, right? But if that is the case, why does it seem like the queen has much more she's not telling Mila? And what messes will Mila inevitably find herself in?

Masterlist

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Main Story

To be filled later

Personal Notes

This is one of those stories where the main character is not the one that was isekai'd, but another. In this story, the queen was isekai'd from the real world where she read a story about how the Demon King lost his wife due to illness and fell in love with a doctor that saved his life. The queen's goal is to set the og!fl, our protagonist Mila, up for success where she will eventually fall in love with the demon king. In true otome isekai fashion, however, the queen will inevitably underestimate the effect she has on the original story and will not realize it when her husband ends up falling for her.

But the story isn't about all that business. The story is about Mila. I have an obsession with side characters and I often find their story much more interesting than main characters. I wanted to write a story where someone has to put up with getting roped and dragged along in an adventure they never asked for.

The funny thing is this description and synopsis is perhaps one of the least ideas for a story ever, but this is the story I have the most motivation for lmao. I really do be writing a whole ass story for the one sole audience of me LOL

[malovedaptive]

🔭Venus

part of my observatory event, requested by anonymous👾

sakusa kiyoomi x f!reader

summary: you've known sakusa your whole life, so when he asks you to get into a fake relationship with him to ease his parents worries, you agree. after all, you just want to help an old acquaintance out—right?

content warnings: fake dating / childhood friends to lovers, time skip setting, hurt/comfort

words count: 1.7k

“We should stop this.”

Sakusa’s brows lift slightly. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t react the way you expect him to. You almost want to click your tongue in frustration.

You know he understood though. He always does. But Sakusa hates ambiguity—hates when words waver between meanings. He needs transparency, precise sentences.

“This whole…dating thing. Us pretending.” You clarify, more for yourself than for him.

His expression remains blank, which is strange because the man, despite being an introvert, has never been good at hiding his emotions. Yet now, you can’t read him. You don’t know if he’s annoyed or simply processing. Maybe both. Sakusa has always been one thing and another—distant yet present, kind yet selfish, cold yet burning.

“Why?” His voice is steady. “Did I do something wrong?”

You’re standing on the balcony of a bar in Osaka. You came here with Sakusa and his team to celebrate their victory after another game where he played beautifully well and where you had to play the proud girlfriend—jumping into his arms after the game was over and smiling at the clicks of cameras on you and the applauses of his teammates (“Omi-Omi, you’re so lucky!!! I want a girlfriend too,”, “Omi-kun, ya bastard! How did ya get a girl like her?”)  

Nobody knows everything is a lie.

Inside, people are laughing, drinking. You want to enjoy with them, but you just can’t. You needed fresh air, an escape, so you went on the balcony. The cool wind helped—at first. But then Sakusa joined you, and suddenly, breathing became harder than it was in the cramped, crowded room.

It’s always been like this with him. Suffocating.

“I don’t think I can do it anymore. All this lying.” You exhale sharply. “I’m sorry.”

He watches you, silent. One second stretches into another, into another, until time itself feels heavy like it’s pressing against your ribs.

“Fine.” His voice is calm. “That was the deal, wasn’t it? If one of us wants to stop, we stop.”

You’ve known Sakusa since childhood. A two-year gap separates you, but your parents were friends, and that tied you to him, whether you liked it or not.

You remember summers spent playing together—not exactly friends, but not strangers either. When you were little, he needed someone to receive his serves, so you helped him. You also used to fetch the balls from rivers, trees, or mud puddles when he refused to dirty his hands. He, in turn, scared off the boys who teased you for playing with a ball instead of dolls.

You remember the way he scrunched his nose when you tried to thank him. “I didn’t do it for you,” he muttered. “Volleyball is for everyone.”

And then there were the days when it was too hot to stay in the playground, when Komori would drag you both inside for ice cream. Sakusa’s choices were always odd—plum, red bean—while you stuck to vanilla and chocolate. At the time, you thought he was a rare gem. Unique. He intrigued you.

Years after that, he entered junior high, and you saw less of him. Then, for one year, when it was your turn to start junior high, he waited outside your classroom after school, walking you home without explanation. That, too, ended when he left for high school.

You gave him chocolates once. Dark, with orange, an unusual choice that most people would assume was picked out of desperation. But you knew better. Sakusa liked things that were bitter, and uncommon. You think that’s what you liked about him.

You went to all his matches. Every practice game, every regional tournament. You promised yourself that if he won Nationals, you would confess—not necessarily your love, but something. Your admiration, your belief in him. It wouldn’t have mattered what he said in return because he was leaving anyway to become a professional athlete. And you wouldn’t have to see him again.

But he never won Nationals. So, you swallowed your feelings and let him go.

Years passed. You heard about him through your parents, through articles online. And then, last summer, you saw him again at Komori’s 29th birthday.

You hadn’t expected him to be so beautiful. Or maybe you had, but the memory didn’t do him justice. But more than that, he was still utterly himself. Cold. Awkward. Direct in a way that could be both amazing and infuriating.

You talked, but only a little. You were no longer a nervous teenager who couldn’t keep her hands from sweating, but deep down, you knew—he still had that effect on you. One you struggled to name—until today.

And then, in the middle of a casual conversation, he said it.

“My parents are worried I’ll end up alone.”

Sakusa never cared much about what people thought. But he cared about his parents.

“I’m turning 30 soon. They want me to settle down.”

You remember frowning, confused about where this was going.

“Don’t you… have someone? What about that actress-”

“That’s the problem,” he cut in with a serious tone.

The media had latched onto a rumour. A few chance encounters between him and a famous actress had been spun into an entire fabricated romance, and now, as he trained for what might be his last Olympics, he couldn’t afford distractions, he explained to you. You felt relieved in a way—you didn’t tell him though.

“Can I do something?” you asked. You shouldn't have asked.

He hesitated. “I… I can’t ask you that.”

“Tell me.”

There was a long silence before he spoke again.

“If I introduce you to my parents as my-” He cleared his throat. “Girlfriend. You know. Maybe they’d stop pressuring me. And the good part is, I wouldn’t even have to explain anything because they already know you. And the media will stop with that shitty rumour too.”

It would be easy. You just have to pretend (that’s what you’ve done your all life, so you’d consider yourself pretty good at it).

So, you said yes.

Maybe because, twenty years ago, he stood up for you. Or maybe because, no matter how much time passed, something inside you had never stopped burning for him.

And now, standing here, looking at him under the city lights and the starless night, you realise—this fire was never meant to be contained.

It only grew stronger as you spent more time with him, and it started consuming you.

Weeks after weeks, it became exhausting. Lying to his parents, to yours. Smiling through conversations where they ask about your future, about how he treats you, about how lucky you are that fate brought you back together.

Fate? What a cruel joke.                                                                        

But the worst part isn’t deceiving them—it’s deceiving yourself. You tell yourself you can handle this. That you aren’t affected when his mother squeezes your hand and whispers, “Take care of him. He’s always been difficult, but he needs someone like you.”

Someone like you?

If he needs something like you, he would have shown you so. He would ask you to stay longer when you're in his apartment, he would look for your gaze in a crowded place, and he would smile when you take his hand. But he doesn't.

And the media only makes things worse. The internet is always a step ahead, sniffing out your story like wolves ready to strike their prey. Who is Sakusa’s mystery girlfriend? Some articles try to connect dots that don’t exist. They paint your relationship in bright, exaggerated strokes. Others dissect your every public interaction. There are people who envy you. People who hate you. People who speculate you’re just a distraction, a temporary placeholder before he finds someone real.

Still, you hold on. You keep a steady face and a shy smile. You tell him you’re okay, you pretend everything is fine. Pretend. Pretend. Pretend.

But something inside you broke the first time he casually mentioned marriage to his parents.

You nearly choked on your tea when he said to his parents, “we do want to get married. But not yet. We’ll talk about it after the Olympics. Don’t worry.”

His father nodded approvingly. His mother teared up, gripping your hand tighter. And you? You had sat there, frozen, your heart pounding in your temple.

You should have ended it then. But you didn’t.

Because somewhere along the way, the lines had blurred.

Somewhere along the way, you stopped acting and the fire wreaked even more havoc.

Two months passed and you can’t pretend anymore, it hurts too much.

That’s why now, standing on this balcony with the wind on your face and his dark eyes locked on yours, you finally find the strength to say it.

“We should stop this.”

He took it too well. Too easily. And that stings more than it should.

You didn't expect him to fight back, but you hoped he would at least question your decision further. Instead, it seems like he accepted it like it was inevitable. Like he had been waiting for you to fold first—as if what you were sharing, however fabricated, was never meant to last anyway.

The silence stretches between you. The party inside feels like another world. You wrap your arms around yourself.

Sakusa exhales. Then, to your surprise, he says, “Thank you.” And then, “I’ll miss you.”

You blink. Your throat tightens. “Don’t say that.”

“Why not?” He tilts his head slightly. “It’s true.”

You can’t help the small, frustrated laugh that escapes you. “You’re acting like we’re breaking up when we weren’t even together to begin with.”

His lips press together like he’s holding something back. And, after a pause, he finally says, “Then let’s start over.”

“What?”

The man takes a step closer, close enough that you can see the soft shift in his expression. “No more pretending. No more lying. Just us. If that’s something you’d want.”

Your heart pounds so hard you fear he can hear it. You search his face for any trace of hesitation, but all you find is sincere—the kind sincerity you convinced yourself he wasn’t capable of showing to you.

“You drive me insane, you know that?” you mutter as you look away.

“I’m aware,” he answers. “But I think you can handle it. You’re the only one who can handle me.”

You roll your eyes, but a smile blooms on your face. You hate him. Hate the way he makes you feel like this. Like there’s an incessant fire inside of you.

But somehow, now, the flames aren’t painful. For the first time, they’re gentle and warm. You could get used to it; you tell yourself.

“Are you free next week? We could eat somewhere.”

You look into his eyes, dark eyes. He looks back, “Sure.”

a/n: first time writing for sakusa and definitely not the last hehe

special and HUGE thank you to @milkstore and @chisubi for beta-reading, your help meant so much to me <3