#I couldn't resist seeing what kind of chaos will happen when these two are thrown together XD

[howthesleeplesswander]

surprise starter for @greedbent bc I'm low-key foaming at the mouth for these two master manipulators to meet 👀👀💦

"Excuse me, I do hope this seat isn't taken." The cheerful velvet of Kaeya's voice eased through the chatter in the Cat's Tail. He offered a grin and brief thanks as he claimed an empty bar stool next to a man clad in all black. A stranger, technically, although Kaeya had his suspicions.

Once settled he flagged over a bartender, striking up easy conversation and ordering a glass of Dandelion Wine. Casual. An ordinary patron here for drinks and socializing. Certainly not here out of curiosity towards the "random" patron he'd sat beside. He was dressed down, forsaking the outer layers of his outfit for only his plain white shirt, and his Vision was hidden out of sight, tucked up inside billowing fabric. Better to keep his cards close to the chest at a time like this.

Kaeya didn't address the other man again. He continued chatting with the bartender as she poured his drink, which he then leisurely sipped as his gaze wandered the night's customers. Only when his eye trailed naturally to the one beside him did Kaeya pause, scrutinizing his features as if he'd just noticed anything peculiar.

"I don't think I've seen you in the Cat's Tail before," he remarked, paired with an easygoing smile. "Are you new to Mondstadt?"

[nothingbutfangirlsmut]

The Trials of Emi

Pairing: A little Minho. A sprinkle of Frypan. Gally x Emi(OC)

Summary: Emi, her twin brother Thomas, and a small group of gladers had been rescued and taken to a safe haven. Or so it seemed. It doesn't take long for Thomas to realize something is wrong. What happens next is a true trial for all of them but Emi's trials began the moment she was ripped away from a dying Gally. Watching someone you love die right before your eyes truly takes a toll.

Finally meeting the right arm could have been the end but betrayal leads to even more chaos and loss. A new mission to rescue those taken from them leads them to a city. The last city. After Emi finally comes to terms with everything that's happened something unfolds that changes everything again. She will have to not only deal with helping her brother take down WCKD and save their friend but also deal with all the new problems in her head and her heart.

Rating: As of right now it’s at most PG13. Some strong language that’s about it but it could change.

(This is the 2nd part/book to my other story "The Maze trials: A Gally Fanfiction". This will cover the events of the scorch trails and the death cure.)

Chapter Seven

One by one we were pulled towards the floor then untied. Teresa, Thomas, and Minho were already untied. They were working on Newt when the sound of a helicopter distracted all of us.

"What the hell is that?" I asked over the noise.

"WCKD," Thomas said as he scrambled to help Teresa and Minho.

"Good evening, this is the World Catastrophe Kill Zone Department. We have your compound completely surrounded. You've found yourselves, through no fault of your own, in possession of WCKD property. Return them to us unharmed and we'll consider this a simple misunderstanding. Or you can resist and every last one of you will die. It won't be long before the flare wipes out the rest of us. The hope for the cure rests in your hands. The choice is yours." Janson's unmistakable voice was shouting.

I was the last one pulled free of the ropes. Thomas helped me to my feet then he took a quick look at my shoulder. It was getting worse. It was bleeding again and throbbing.

"We have to move! Quickly!" Thomas shouted then turned to lead the group.

We followed close behind him out of the room we'd been hanging in. Instant chaos was what we heard. People were running in the distance and screaming. We kept to the shadows as we looked for a way out. Thomas pushed through a door. Just as we were all inside a man appeared holding a gun on us. Thomas raised his hands as the man sneered at him. A shot rang out causing us to instantly search for who was the victim. To our surprise, the man in front of us fell on the floor. Behind him stood the same girl who had led us to Jorge. She put the gun to her side then nodded.

"Come with me" she ordered then turned for us to follow her.

Thomas hesitated for a second then started to run after her. She led us back through the building to a set of stairs. We all started running up them behind her. As soon as we did loud music started to play.

"Brenda!" A man shouted.

Jorge appeared at the top of the stairs.

"Hurry, we don't have much time. Let's go, let's go, let's go." Jorge said pointing for us to go to the left.

We all ran behind Brenda and Jorge.

"Right this way," Jorge said then shoved open a large door.

I gasped at the drop in front of us. It was a massive canyon below with other building all the way on the other side of it.

"Oh, you gotta be kidding me." Fry groaned as he looked down.

"Not me Hermano, you kids want to get to the Right Arm? I'll lead you to them but you're gonna owe me." Jorge said to the group.

He turned back to the wire that was above his head. He reached up grabbing something then yanking it down. It was some kind of tied up rope.

"Follow me!" He shouted as he slung himself down the wire and across the canyon.

"Alright, let's go!" Brenda shouted pulling down another rope.

We all looked at Thomas.

"Go, go" he shouted moving so we'd all be in front of him.

Minho went first. Clint went down followed by Newt. I stepped up to the rope Brenda was holding for me. I grabbed it then took a deep breath before launching myself down the wire-like the rest of them. By the time I got to the end where the others were waiting I was laughing. That was the coolest thing I've ever done. I came down quickly but Minho was there with his arms spread wide. I tripped as I landed but Minho caught me. He pulled me out of the way quickly as Aris came in behind me. Right behind him was Teresa.

"Where's Thomas?" I asked her as I stepped out of Minho's arms.

She looked back up to where we all came from. He should have been right behind Teresa. Brenda should have been too. We all watched hoping the pair would appear any second. The building across from us went up in flames as explosion after explosion went off.

"No!" I screamed trying to grab the rope to somehow get back over there.

Hands were grabbing my arms pulling me back. I could feel the tears on my cheeks as the hands turned me around. I was pulled into a chest with strong arms tightly around me.

"Brenda knows other ways out. We have to move." Jorge said to the group.

"He's Thomas he's gonna be fine," Minho whispered into my hair.

I was praying he was right. I lost Gally. I can't lose Thomas too. We all followed Jorge until he stopped at the edge of the building we were in.

"This town we are going in isn't the nicest so stick close and keep your head down. We are going to find an old friend of mine." Jorge informed us.

He stepped out slowly onto the sand. I was cautious to do the same. I had Newt on one side and Minho on the other. We walked slowly into the sand-covered road. I couldn't see anyone out. They were probably all inside their homes asleep. It did seem late at night.

"We are gonna lay low for the night," Jorge whispered then turned to the right.

As we walked down the side road I noticed two men standing off to the side in the shadows. I eyed them as we walked past. The others didn't seem to notice them. I had slowed down a little from my distraction. Newt and Minho were both walking in front of me now. I moved to get back between them but I never made it there. Two sets of hands grabbed me from behind. Two hands pinned my arms to my back causing the pain in my shoulder to skyrocket. The other two hands grabbed my face and covered my mouth. They yanked me back from my friends. I thrashed as hard as I could. I tried to scream but his hand had my voice muffled. I started to kick my legs wildly until I connected with one of the men. The hand covering my mouth released me so I screamed the first name that came to me.

"Minho!" I screamed as loud as I could.

The hand slapped back over my mouth muffling me again. I could hear my friends shouting for me. I couldn't say or do anything else as the men dragged me into a building.

I was thrown to the ground harshly. The lights inside the room were dim but I could see two makeshift beds on the floor. The room was old and rundown.

"What's a pretty little thing like you doing out here?" One of the men asked as he stood over me.

"None of your business." I snapped at him.

Both men chuckled. The one standing over me squatted as I pulled myself into a sitting position. My shoulder was pulsing with pain as more blood slowly seeped out.

"Please, I'm injured," I said softly.

"Why do you think we grabbed you?" The man by the door said.

"Easy prey" the man squatting said.

I looked at him with disgust clear on my face. I had no clue what these men were about to do to me but I wasn't going to go down without a fight. The man next to me sat down on his knees then leaned forward to grab a piece of my hair. He stuck his nose against my hair then took a deep breath. I tried to pull myself out of his grasp but he only tightened his hold. I felt weaker than usual. I couldn't do much to fight him off.

"Emi!" I heard the shout of my name from outside.

The man by the door turned to hold the door closed like someone was about to barge in.

"Minho! Newt!" I screamed.

The man next to me covered my mouth with his hand again. This time he positioned himself behind me on his knees. He pulled my back completely against his front. I heard a faint click making me turn my head to see a knife in the man's hand. My eyes widened in fear as I tried to get out of his hold. The more I moved the worse the pain in my shoulder got. The door suddenly jolted like someone had ran into it. The man standing against it moved to put his full weight against it. Something rammed into it again.

"Emi!" Minho's voice shouted from the other side of the door.

I tried to tell him I was here but the sudden feeling of a cold blade against my throat had me trying to keep my breathing steady. The door was taking a heavy beating and the man standing against it seemed to be struggling to keep it closed.

The door finally flew open as Minho and Newt practically tumbled into the room. Fry, Clint, Aris, and Jorge were right behind them. Minho's eyes caught mine as the knife's blade was pressed harder against my skin.

"Let her go," Minho demanded the man holding me.

The man laughed then grabbed my shoulder after releasing my mouth. I hissed as the pain increased.

A loud shot rang out making everyone jump. Jorge had shot the man the was once holding the door closed. He turned pointing the gun at the man holding me.

"We don't have a lot of time to waste. So do as the boy said and let her go." Jorge said menacingly.

The man holding me growled then slowly released me. Minho was quick to grab my hand and pull me to my feet.

"Are you okay?" He asked as he grabbed each side of my face.

My body was aching from the damage to my shoulder. The blood had finally slowed but I felt light-headed and dizzy. I held onto Minho's biceps trying to steady myself.

"No" I whispered.

Minho moved to my side that wasn't injured then wrapped his arm around my waist.

"We need to get her somewhere safe," Newt said to Jorge.

Jorge nodded then led the group back out onto the sand-covered road. Minho held me close to him as he moved as fast as he could. Jorge made two more turns before stopping in front of another door. He opened it then gestured for us to go in.

Once Minho got me inside he slowly laid me on the ground. When Jorge stepped inside he flipped a switch turning on a few dim lights.

"How do you feel?" Clint asked as he kneeled beside me.

"Everything hurts and I'm dizzy. I'm really dizzy." I said softly.

"How long has she had that wound?" Jorge asked.

"A few days," Clint told him.

"Has it been bleeding the whole time?" Jorge asked.

I nodded.

"She's losing too much blood. We need to stop or at least slow the bleeding." Jorge said coming to kneel beside me.

Minho was quick to grab his shirt then tear a large bit of it off. He gave the cloth to Jorge. Jorge moved the cloth sling then tied Minho's shirt tightly around the wound. I hissed as he did so. Minho held my hand even after Jorge was standing again.

"That will have to do until we can get a hold of better supplies to treat her," Jorge said.

"What now?" Newt asked.

"We wait here until morning then find Marcus," Jorge told him.

—

[zhxngweiascian]

001 ❝ ‎ 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐧, 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟑. ― 𝙰𝚕𝚎𝚡𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝙻𝚒.

— He hated such pompous events, the kind that was thrown only to show off wealth and stature, the kind that felt as if it was closed off to the rest of the world and was thrown into another universe of glitz, glamour and champagne that tasted like the stars. Alexander sighed, nimble fingers finding the lapels of his already pristine suit to straighten; he could not wait to get out of it, to discard his petticoat and gloves and retire for the rest of the night. The foie gras on the saltine crackers and the one too many old fashioned had begun twisting his stomach into knots of discomfort more than the attention that flit his way from the wide and blue eyed party goers.

He stood in the corner by the table laden with amuse-bouches and piled with hors d'oeuvres, nursing his glass of champagne. He wondered where all this food went, whether if anyone really would eat or it would all simply go to waste; his heart went out for the city he lived in, adopted and made home for the span that was his temporary life. The War had ended just a mere couple of years ago but the chaos it had left in its wake was tangible enough that he could taste it on the tip of his tongue, the air rancid and filled with the aftermath of gunpowder. He disliked it. London. Where no one knows his neighbour. Where shops do not know their customers. Where physicians are suddenly called to unknown patients whom they never see again. Where you may lie dead in your house for months together unmissed and unnoticed till the gas-inspector comes to look at the meter. Where strangers are friendly and friends are casual. London, whose rather untidy and grubby bosom is the repository of so many odd secrets. Discreet, incurious and all-enfolding London. The city wasn't something he had known previously or was too familiar with- but one thing he was certain of, a part of him loved watching all of it unravel. This place hummed to the tune of debauchery. This city was filthy and deep in the thrall of unending sin, so saturated with the kiss of decadence that the sky threatened to buckle and crush all those living vivaciously beneath it in punishment.

"You're hiding away again?" a very familiar voice rang in his ear, reminiscent of the dulcet tinkles of bells and the angelic choir of church. It automatically brought a smile to his face and every single thought he had wasn't of any importance. He faced a knowing grin, one that curved into a cheeks hued a lovely pink. Rosalie Han was a sight for sore eyes in her dress the color of the midnight sky, sparkling with countless beads that sparkled and bounced back reflections when they caught the light of the chandelier. She came to a stop next to where he stood, beginning to peruse the menu displayed.

"I'm not hiding," he scoffed under his breath low enough that only she could hear; they both knew he hated being here... just like they both know that he would always indulge in her whims to go frolic with humans.

Rosalie nodded, carmine tinted mouth curved into a smirk and picked up a cream puff to hold to eye level, turning it this way and that way in an inspecting manner before she deemed it decent then proceeded to shove the entire thing in her mouth.

Alexander took a sip of his champagne, shaking his head at the woman. "By whatever war wages, not in front of your many suitors!" he exclaimed in a whisper, unable to hide his own simper as he tilted his glass briefly to the crowd as if to make his point.

"Don't tell me what to do, you oaf!" Rosalie yelled in a whisper, shooting him a murderous glance. Alexander's grin lifted further.

"The Hastings are here. So are the Parks and Chiannis. It's about time we match you with one of them, Rose. Looks like their heirs are vying for your attention." The man murmured, hiding his knowing grin behind the rim of his champagne glass, eyes raking the grande portico of the chateau where everyone of import milled about and rubbed elbows with each other.

Her gaze found his face, reflecting the thousand and one lights from the chandelier overhead despite the incredulity that swarmed in them and scoffed a sound. "So you'd have thrown me to the wolves?" she asked, lips downturned in a moue and followed his line of gaze. Alexander laughed, the sound low and reverberating in her ears that she couldn't resist but to grin too. Feigning annoyance, she grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing water, finishing half of the starry golden liquid in a quick sip.

"Frankly, I pity the wolves."

There it was, the cynical joke shared between the two long-time friends; their kinds were polar opposites but here they were, hidden in plain sight, hand in hand and with a shared history that transited time. Rosalie laughed, eliciting a low chuckle from him too; it was always fascinating how she laughed freely, drawing the attention of whoever stood close enough to catch an ear of the wonderful sound. And those who looked found it a peculiar sight, one that was uncommon to most yet, in a way, felt normal.

Alexander Li was an enigma and despite how his circle was made of those in power, there was little known about him other than he was a professor of philosophy and physics. He was tall and trim, with the build of a young man proficient in warfare even though he had not been in the war. His dark hair was straight and styled in a manner suggesting a desire for order in all things. They framed eyes so pale a shade of brown they appeared amber in certain flashes of light, like those of a tiger. His profile was an artist’s study in angles, and he remained motionless, face was set in a cool and expressionless canvas, save for when his thick eyebrows raised a fraction when an odd woman approached the pair to converse. He felt Rosalie stiffen, her dainty hand reaching to loop around his arm. He could have well imagined the curse that slipped past her lips but the woman both had been staring at was a mere foot away by then.

Evelyn Ackley jumped, unable to hide his surprise. She was the hostess of the party, the wife to a Lord who spoke little of sense and much more about himself. Her grin was wide and surprised and Alex thought that it seemed too bright to be genuine. "Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant. For foreigners, your English is extraordinary. There is not a trace of an accent to be found."

"I have an American accent," he replied dully.

Ackley waved him off, the gaudy bracelet of diamonds she wore almost blinding him. "You know what I mean."

Do I? he wanted to say. Would I be less if I sounded like where I was from, like all those in this city who were forced to learn more than one language, unlike you? His mouth opened, the words right on his tip on his tongue when Rosalie chirped in, sounding sweet.

"No, we do not," she laughed, as if the other woman told a joke that tickled Rosalie's bones. It was a natural sound, but only those who looked closely noticed how her nimble fingers tightened around Alex's forearm. "Now, if you'll excuse us, I find the wine at this party a bit too bland." He bit into his inner cheek, refraining from making a sound of laughter.

Smoothly, Rosalie tugged on his arm with enough force that he had begun veering into the direction she led him in. He had enough time to bow at the Lady of the house, automatically falling into step with the smaller woman.

“I actually liked the wine,” he spoke after a moment, breaking the silence that had taken over.

She groaned, throwing him a side glance of disgust. “I am beyond appalled but not surprised you began losing your sense of taste.” Her chin rose so that the tip of her nose scrunched a fraction, her plump lips curved downwards into a faux remorseful pout.

He laughed goodnaturedly, his other hand reaching over to gently pat her hand that rested on his arm. It was true; he’d lived in London for about seven years now. He’d seen how the war had ebgan and lit even the smallest alleys with fires from both enemy and allies and he’d been there when it all came to an end. He’d seen it in the papers, how the new decade was called ‘the Roaring Twenties’ and wherever he went, the hedonistic lifestyle that London had adopted was an escape from the debris and chaos the war had left in its wake. He didn’t mind it; changes were bound to happen.

“Come, let’s go get some good wine,” he chuckled, veering to the left and out of the chateau that would party until past dawn.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ 𝐀 𝐟𝐞𝐰 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫.

They sat at the top of the citadel just a mere 20 minute car ride away from the party. A little brown paper bag had been torn so it laid flat on the ground where they sat and on it sat a small display of cheese, crackers and grapes that they had stolen from the festivities. Surely, a handful of hors d’oeuvres would not be missed. The sky was lit with a canvas of stars and unfortunately enough, they weren’t seen from the city, too bombarded and overwhelmed by the city lights to shine on their own. But the more you looked at them, the more they rose to the surface of the dark sky, the tinier specks beginning to gather the courage to come to light too. If the stars should appear one night in a thousand years, how would men believe and adore; and preserve for many generations the remembrance of the city of God which had been shown! But every night come out these envoys of beauty, and light the universe with their admonishing smile.

“Ah, I wish I could get drunk on this!” Rosalie pronounced, breaking the otherwise impeccable silence of the night and wrenching him out of his thoughts.

Alexander took a sip of his wine bottle and turned his head to look at her. “The wine finally to your taste?”

She made sure that he could see her eye roll and he laughed, placing his bottle of wine down so he could swiftly pull off his suit jacket. In the same motion, he leaned over to her, gently placing the comfortable fabric over her dainty shoulders; neither of them got cold but it was more out of habit that he did it.

Silence befell the two again, a comforting cocoon that required nothing but each other’s presence to feel comfortable. His eyes remained on her, watching how she snuggled into his jacket and preoccupied herself with the contents of her own bottle of wine.

It was a beautiful and delightful sight to behold the body of the moon but Rosalie Han, who he’d known for what felt like eternity, was ethereal in her beauty. Even when the moonlight befell her being and kissed her skin of alabaster, it seemed as if she glowed from within, matching the moon’s light with her own. Her hair had escaped from the coiffe she had donned before the party, falling down her shoulders and back in waves of ravened hues. Sooty eyelashes fluttered everytime she blinked, the rouge on her lips that was once pristine now a faded dusty shade on her lips. She had always turned head wherever she went but it was in the serenest moments like these that Alexander allowed himself to really look at her. She had never changed in all these years he’d known her yet just like him, she molded with time, embracing the lifetime of infinity she had. Before he knew it, he was staring into dark pools of obsidian, lit by the moon and had it known for the remaining of his senses that had not been affected by the alcohol, he would have fallen into them and drowned.

“Penny for your thoughts?” she mused, picking a grape from the pile to plop into her mouth.

Alexander shook his head, turning his head away from her to look off into the horizon. Far into the distance, he had begun to spot a faint line of light. Dawn would arrive soon, forcing the both of them to retire back into their lives; despite how different they were, somehow they always managed to intertwine their own paths.

“Nothing,” he chuckled, taking the last sip of his wine. If the English had done one thing right, it was to allow the French to sell their alcohol in the city.

“Say it!”

A grape hit his cheek and he scoffed as he picked it from his lap where it had fallen and bit into it, ignoring her giggles.

“Remember when we attended Tom’s and Alina’s wedding last year?” he asked, reaching for a saltine that had a dollop of cheese in the middle.

Rosalie nodded. “The wedding itself or the time we both said we would marry each other in another thousand years if we are still single by then? Are you going back on your word now, Alex?”

He tutted his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he finished the last bit of his cracker and cheese. “I was just thinking that you shouldn’t keep your hopes up! Who knows maybe you’ll thankfully find someone and I will finally get rid of your loud self?”

It was a rare sight to watch the professor laugh, the sound natural as she hit him hard with the back of her hand before joining in his laughter as well. Who knew such a stoic man could manage such a face, so carefree that for a moment, he seemed like just a simple boy. But Rosalie Han, just like all of the versions of herself that he knew, often had that effect on him.

They sat there on the concrete floor of the citadel, munching on their snacks and sipping the last of their wines amidst childish banters and laughter the entire remainder of the night. It was only until dawn broke over the horizon, painting the skies a shell pink and a faint gold that they both made a move, going back home and broke away from the glitz and glamor that the night had left a residue on their skin.