#aventurine looks so different between them. to me at least

[entropyvoid]

[nilboxes]

Light cone art so powerfully homoerotic someone (me) furiously pumped out a 6k word fic in 2 days. They're going to kill me. 🔗 : AO3

Extensive notes/ramblings below!

-

I have not recovered from the mental power I had to pool to write this lmao I couldn't do anything at work except figure these two out and why Aventurine looked so BESOTTED but the absence of the little white dots in his eyes in the light cone and in the leaked models made him look like there's such an edge to him (someone on twitter pointed out that he has no light in his eyes!) and it really fanned the flames like what the fuck is this GUY ON and why is it directed at Dr. Ratio LMAO (I mean why not Ratio is so pretty)

So then I thought, there is NO WAY Ratio is going to react surprised or scared for Aventurine he's going to be ANNOYED lmao. There are possibly 2 more chances in that cylinder before it's 100% in there and I was looking at the probabilities on Wikipedia and I was laughing at myself at how a gay ship was going to make me STUDY probability when I hated this type of stuff in university and I was like yeah Ratio will probably be like hey, you can't stop there, and pulls twice lmao

And I was thinking they would make eyes at each other homoerotically while doing so because wow sexual tension so potent you can taste it through the screen in the LC art and everything just went from there I really cannot get over how Aventurine seems so... sooooooo in love with Ratio and in my head Ratio is like this man is insane what is he on but he gets a taste of that and it's like wow it's actually a little good but Ratio is also cautious so he won't ride that wave too hard but Aventurine looks really down bad for a man who seems like he doesn't care

So initially I really wanted to wait until Aventurine came out before I start my hyperfixation train because we know so little about him other than key facts I have formed in my head-- -he's perpetual smiler (confirmed by a leak of the loading screen blurbs) and like, idk from his design it just suits him and even in his voice cameo with Topaz his VA sounds like they are smiling while they are talking ALLL the time idk at least I got this one right -mr gambling gambler who is very self-assured about his luck, mr smug man. when I wrote he'd win 99.9-0.1 he believes this and if he dies I think to him it would just mean his time's up for realsies anyway and whatever idk man is not very sane -there's some really weird leaks and I'm not sure if it's confirmed but he was invited to be a Masked Fool which made him ALLL the more interesting for me because as a Sampo Mr Scammer fan it doesn't mean if he joins the Masked Fools he wouldn't be able to amass money but this guy seems to really like the thrill being an IPC senior manager provides then which is like this guy is a lives fast dies young kinda guy -I HC from that neck tattoo he could have been an indentured servant (cough slave cough) or a prisoner of some kind, but eitherway it says he wasn't privileged in any sense of the word but the way his character design is so decked out in rings gold watches and even a bracelet it means he's climbed very far, so he is an ambitious man, lots of "material pleasures" as Dr Ratio puts it in my fic and he still wants more. That kinda guy makes for a very intense lover imo very "I get what I want" type, and I really wanted to balance that with his attraction to Dr Ratio and how he doesn't want to drive Dr Ratio away with his crazy but he's also very horny... Anyway I also totally underestimated his height difference with Dr Ratio I really should have pulled up that leak of them side by side but ahh being a short king dom top is so cute on him

As for Dr Ratio I really cannot see him top unless Aventurine power bottoms why but he's so "diligent" in all aspects but I see him being a pillow princess in bed

I also feel a little bad that I wasn't able to write more bickering between the two of them but I also feel like the normally talkative Dr Ratio keeps HIGH HIGH walls around Aventurine because it's hard to tell what this guy is thinking so he's thinking so hard trying to make sense of it all and he says little as not to give away anything that might be wrong

I feel like adding "all is fair in love and war" in Latin omina iusta sunt amore belloque was a little gratuitous but I also want to subtly sprinkle in that Aventurine is so obsessed with Ratio, so down bad for him, that he reads stuff about Dr Ratio a lot enough to come across a translation of the quote and I'm like no yeah way Ratio can deal with crazy-eyed Aventurine saying/declaring love while he's still computing the electric exchange they had so he's definitely like picking up on Aventurine's obsession/infatuation with him and he's like NOPE DON'T SAY IT and would rather kiss him to shut him up than hear it lmao

I honestly despaired at how I was going to start closing the scenes because it was like nighttime and I wanted to finish it already because they're killing me, so like, making Ratio fall asleep while Aventurine pours his heart out (I asked a friend who read it what he thought Aventurine said and they got it spot on so I figure it was conveyed properly on my end and I was really proud of this bit) seemed like a cute way to do it. The narration lied, Dr Ratio heard it but he got selective hearing and totally did NOT want to reply/acknowledge it. Poor Aventurine, but it's not as if he won't try again

I have waaay more ideas about them and I wonder if I can hold off until Aventurine releases or we get more crumbs idk but I want to write some kuudere Ratio (with a bit of tsun hehe)

Special mentions other than the lightcone art that fueled me: this art from Twitter that and this post that kinda made me think long and hard...

[revserrayyu]

2.1 Penacony thoughts [part5]

**BIG STORY SPOILERS** Chatting up until the end of the current story so if you haven’t finished it yet then I’d encourage you to do so before reading any further.

Before all the big reveals happen, I appreciate these few dialogue options we get right after the Aventurine fight. It sounds like they’re all asked in rapid succession and the last one is completely valid considering how often we actually switched viewpoints during this update.

Once Sam appeared, I knew it was finally going to be the moment where we learn who he truly is. As they list out the other hunter’s specialties and his own lack of one, he mentions “there is only one method that I use,” and I wanna say it’s deception..

..because lo and behold, everyone was completely right and the person beneath the armored suit is indeed Firefly herself. I’m not surprised, just interested in learning about her reasons. Was that death of hers planned and why? Has she always been Sam, even way back during the Jepella Rebellion trailer? Or does that device in her hand allow her to appear as Sam? Because didn’t we hear to talking to a “mecha” in that one dreamscape last patch? She just seems so out of place among the other Stellaron Hunters but I’m eager to learn more about her once we pick up here next update.

Also, I’m just gonna say it.. I wasn’t truly upset over her “death.” I feel like we were kinda forced to care for her after she gave us a tour of Penacony, but that alone wasn’t enough for me to get properly attached. That time was real brief and only took up a small section of the previous update. Not to mention the many weeks in between updates where I spent much time thinking about almost everyone else aside from her. Most other characters we’ve met on this planet received trailers, drip marketing and so much more to get me invested into learning about them while Firefly’s presence was short lived. I would genuinely be upset if anything bad happened to Black Swan, Acheron or Sparkle and I’m already emotional over Robin, Aventurine and maybe even Sunday. There’s stuff going on with Gallagher and Misha that I’m still curious about and we haven’t even properly met Boothill yet but I’m so excited to see him. Maybe my opinion on Firefly will change during the next update, but for now I really don’t have any strong feelings about her other than simple curiosity. I am pleased to see her still alive for the Trailblazer’s sake, but if she somehow survives this entire story and Aventurine doesn’t..hmpf.

All that aside, the scene with Gallagher and Sunday was.. a lot to take in, but once again we have someone else calling Sunday crazy. Perhaps he should go to therapy.

The framing of this scene is nice and sorta confirms those purple nightingales do in fact see everything happening on Penacony, acting as Sunday’s eyes and reporting back to him. At least that’s the vibe I’m getting.

This is quite unexpected? Honestly I feel like every time Sunday is involved there’s a new plot point that’s introduced into this giant story. Both sides definitely have it out for each other, that’s for sure.

What in the hell is this twist??

Sunday thinks Gallagher is in disguise, but after the hound tells him to take a closer look, Sunday starts to notices all these little details about him that seem reminiscent to 52 other members of the Family.

I wish I could say this idea is foreign to me, but it actually reminds me of Kamui from the second season of Psycho Pass and how his body is made up of 184 different people and 7 personalities. Kamui was also unable to be detected by any scanners and that also reminds me of Gallagher and how almost no other Bloodhound knows who he is.

And I haven’t the faintest idea on what Sunday means here but I noticed the voice over doesn’t even say “minion of the Enigmata” no matter how many times I tried to replay this line over.

It���s at this moment where I started to waiver with my distrust towards Sunday and actually start to feel bad for him a little bit solely because of the strong emotion in his voice when he questions why Robin had to be killed. It at least prevents me from thinking he had any part of it.

Then we head into a cutscene and dear god, things happen quick. This one shot of Gallagher reminds me of his light cone just because of the lighter.

This frame of Sunday looking down on him feels so intense and I kinda love it with both the intense shadows and harsh light.

And then..? Our angelic and handsome man gets killed?? Presumably by another memory zone meme I guess I dunno it happened in an instant and all I have to show for it is splatters of goo??

Oohhh my goodness.. this story took such a turn. Many of them actually. Seeing how Sunday is a puddle on the floor similar to what happened to Firefly, I wanna believe that he’s gonna be okay? If she could survive, surely he can too. Maybe? I’m still not to sure about Robin’s condition and I’m being so darn hopeful that Aventurine is alive somehow. That’s definitely the death that hurts most for me if true. Anyways, I’ll end it here and just say there’s many answers to look forward to with the next update. As always, I’m not trusting anyone! Astral Express family only!

(originally written on 3/30)

[zorkaya-moved]

"My fellow ball and chain, has Diamond decided to grant me the privilege of protection? What an hon-or~ I'll be sure to cherish it well."

Aventurine chuckles, twirling a coin between his fingers deftly. The irony isn't lost on him. To be sent to protect someone who's life was never fated to linger long. Perhaps it was a reminder of his place, that he wasn't even allowed the right to choose to die. Not without the IPC's watchful gaze burned onto his skin.

Such things had long become the norm. There was not much that could surprise the Stoneheart anymore.

At the very least, he could have his thrill. Turning nickel into gold.

The sound a coin being flipped in the air rings throughout the spacious room, the gambler catching it with a lack-a-daisical grin.

"So, what will it be? Heads, or tails?"

@celestial-narwhal

Diamond wishes to find one who can use the weapon correctly, the loyalty tested and the Emanator of Origin satisfied. The curse of the Apostle hangs over the head of Diamond, allowing the beast to lurk within the Stonehearts' ranks, protecting them from... From what? Ah, but is it ruly protection when there will be an order coming from the higher gemstone, telling the Stoneheart to end the life of their own bodyguard. It does not seem like Aventurine has received that order yet, it sounds more sadistic now. When will the order be issued? There are countless possibilities, Diamond wishes to use the blood of the silverette as a way to prove sincerity behind Stonehearts' loyalty. Or is it a simple torture? Attempt to find how each person will attempt to kill her, to end her, to bring her close but not enough to [salvation].

It should be considered a joke, the way her face is too pretty to be one of a bodyguard. The golden eyes, the fluffy white eyelashes, the lips colored in the prettiest shade of red, her silver hair - long and wavy - is in a high ponytail as the black suit covers her whole body but does not hide the curves and the beauty that may be hiding beneath. It's a lie, but it's such a beautiful lie. Some of the Stonehearts called her a joke, feeling insulted at the prospect of being protected by someone who seemed more like a beauty than the beast. But it does not matter, she only studies her current [liege] (toy) that Diamond allowed her to play with.

But this one... Oh, he is different. He and Topaz were unique on their own. She wants to play with this one for a bit longer. And yet, the play includes her keeping the controlled and calm appearance. She is an actor, she must put on the perfect mask to hide away the millennia of indulgence, gamble, and survival. She was once an empress, a saint, a sinner, a witch, a [Herrscher] (Sovereign). She is not a human, the Apostle of Origin hides within the lower ranks to learn how each person may use power presented to them. So how will this man spill the blood of a sacrificial beast? Or will he not be asked to end her life? Diamond might have grown tired of those attempts.

Aventurine is a man of class, she can see it, but she also knows the eyes of a survivor when she meets them. She taught countless young men and women who survived tragedies, broken by the cruelty of the world and repressed by authorities. Then again, he is still his own person, but she knows all too well how his type acts and how this indulgence in adrenaline rushes will act up in their exchange. This job will finally be interesting, she thinks to herself, as her eyes watch the coin in his hands. What deft fingers, she hopes he won't use them to wrap around her neck. She won't let any fingers reach for her neck. A knife will do, but nothing wrapped.

Her expression is one of impassiveness, but it only makes her look more beautiful. An ice-cold maiden clad in black and white, monochrome tones bring attention to the ichor in her eyes and to the red of her lips. It's all perfectly captured, but she remains immoving with her hands hidden behind her back.

Do you truly want an answer, child of man? Don't you seek salvation? Wil diamond shackles ask you to baptize yourself in the blood of a saintly sinner like myself? I wonder.

She will play the antithesis to his character. Time will tell when she will need to show more of her fangs for the sake of fun. Amusement is flourishing in her chest but she remains emotionless, calm and collected. The picture of professionalism. If only he knew what was going inside her head.

"As my liege, you should not concern yourself with my opinion," she tells him calmly, looking up from his hands to his face. He is handsome, she will give him that. Any and all expressions he can show her will be worth it, worth this engagement. She wants to have fun before the clocks tick and before the script of Destiny's Slave will ask for her to step forward on the path of Akivili. But right now, Aventurine is the one who has this fake leash that Diamond has given him without any explanations. How cruel of Diamond, but how expected of IPC. She finds Aventurine's situation a disgusting showcase of human nature, the one she witnessed before. He is a person, so she wants to know what a [person] behind this title will do with the power once he is aware of what he holds. "But if you wish for my answer, it would be heads. At the end, you were able to turn the coin in your hand."

It was easy for her eyes and mind to calculate the correctness of the fall. Physics and analysis, this is a child's play for someone who is not a human and who has such striking golden eyes. Will he be satisfied with it? Or will he want to play more? It makes her wonder. How far can her indifference drive him to indulge her? Oh, it will be a glorious time. For others, it may be a headache, but the Apostle is a cruel and vicious woman inside.

"Mr. Aventurine, your schedule requires us to leave in an hour," her voice is melodic, far too melodic fo a bodyguard. A siren, certainly, she is one to fool the sailors. "Moving forward, you may consider me your shadow, but if there is anything you desire: do not hesitate to order me. I am no longer under Diamond's order, but yours. Use me as you wish."

What wishes and orders will he give? A man with a history like his. She is curious.

[shining-gem34]

||Overdue 2.1 Commentary (The Mess)

HSR Spoilers

I'll put it out here now I started 2.0/Penacony thinking I won't be emotionally attached to the characters. Do I like them? Yes, I do to the point I like to give my thoughts about them and their actions just like any other characters. Just not to the extent I would be having my heart strings snapped and used as a jump rope for H*yoverse as they revel in my suffering.

Everything about 2.1 story is still information overload for me so I feel like I'm still missing alot of stuff.

Minor stuff (1): Gameplay wise(?), I do like how they handled switching Character POV's and label it as Trailblazer Story Quest (yellow/gold plot icon). It did fee like they improved it from the beginning parts of Xianzhou main story where you had the option of playing Dan Heng side of the story (purple plot icon) even though it felt just as important main story wise. So that was nice to see.

Acheron & Welt

I'm not too familiar with HI3 and other game/stories relating to it. I can recognize a few references to it such as Acheron is definitely Mei in HSR universe, her Myraid Celestia Trailer is a reference to the Honkai invading "Earth"and the twelve blades are references to the Herrschers in order, and Acheron is a result of no Kiana(?) and she defeated/kill "Kevin"/End. So I cannot say much about any HI3 references between them other than the fact it was nice they met and somehow recognized each other secrets. It makes me think about again how lonely Welt must've felt seeing a familiar face but it's not the person he knows. At the very least Acheron can be someone he might be willing to talk to about his past. Keyword: might. Main story wise cause Penacony 2.1 so far (or overall since 2.0) is a detective-like story, their discovery of new clues in Sunday residence is very eye-catching when you confirm Sunday is aware of "Death" (the meme) and IT has been around for a long while. Robin and Firefly are not the first victims based on the notes, BUT it randomly attacks people anywhere at anytime with no pattern. Sunday himself is personally looking into this case, moreso since Robin is now a victim but he's discouraged and told to hold off on it by Old Oti (Alfalfa Family) until after the festival is concluded. Of course we also learn Sunday definitely loves his sister as he kept a Light Cone of her first performance when they were kids. But more interesting is Robin letter. We find out why her voice is different not because of health-related reason, but because of the "Harmony in Penacony is not pure". She knew something was going on in Penacony and came to the conclusion there is a traitor in the Family. She was going to join her brother and go over what information she had, but unfortunately as we saw at the end of 2.0 she got caught by "Death". :((( Also what I find interesting about Robin "voice" is that she's far more sensitive to the "Harmony" to notice something was wrong compared to Sunday, as we saw both siblings are capable of using Harmony power by a "voice". But so far I haven't seen Sunday confirm if he noticed anything wrong with his "voice" unlike Robin. Makes me wonder how close she is to Xipe...

Aventurine & Ratio (Aventurine Boss Fight)

This was like the big bulk of 2.1 story where Aventurine is pretty much the main character. I will admit it does feel weird we're getting to see alot of Aventurine backstory at once before getting to read his character story, but again- He's the star of the show here. We're seeing Aventurine making the biggest bet of his entire fucking life here. Starry did warn me beforehand his story will be tragic but I did not expect for a seven course dinner of tragedy and angst to be shoved down my throat. Because at the beginning with Aventurine and Ratio??? They were a duo who got along pretty well despite their contrasting personalities. It could be years of working together, or they're more alike than they admit. Also I love the sandbox pit, because it was so funny to watch a giant Ratio helping out this itty bitty Aventurine wandering in Golden Hour city replica. The NPC's T-Posing bothered me more than needed...As they should (T-Pose for dominance). Then the big fucking thing happened during the meeting with Sunday where Ratio "sold" Aventurine out and I was ready to throw my phone like: DAMN. But also I had to stop and think about it carefully, because ??? That isn't Ratio style. He can plot behind the scenes but that's for the sake of "students" to find a lesson to learn from it. Also! He would not risk people lives at that too and had a measure of safety net arranged. He's a Scholar who believes knowledge is for everyone and in all, a pursuer to find a cure for people "ignorance". Not play with people lives. Even if there is a chance he hates Aventurine, he wouldn't betray his own principles like that for greed. The obvious answer? Ratio "betrayal" is part of the plan. Aventurine obviously has a plan when Sunday interrogates him. Not going to lie, when Sunday pretty much put a death sentence on Aventurine, I was legit worried we were going to have another "death" happening. I will say I do admire Aventurine perseverance (HAH!) in trying to survive and fighting to the bitter end. And we do see! That his fight to live stems from his past from his childhood! His home planet is dying, his parents gone, his clan slowly dying off, losing his sister, sold as a slave, and eventually joining the IPC- Aventurine went through so much to survive! But we also see his survival comes to a price- the death of many he cares about. The guilt of being the only survivor combined with his sense of worth led to a disarray of thoughts we see in the quest description.

Unable to escape, unable to move on, unable to see his own worth, and unable to see his own future where he's still alive. In an illusion where he's facing his own selves, the past and the future as he marches onward, Aventurine came to find his own answer at the end: He wants to live. I'm still untangling stuff around the parts where Aventurine grand plan is to call a bluff for Acheron to unleash her true power and leaving a deep mark on the Dreamscape. I do know her power had effectively removed the Harmony placed on Aventurine thus saving his life from that. But the big point Aventurine had to Penacony regarding the "murders" happening is that: No one can "die" in a dream(?????). And it felt like he was taking a big risk with his life on the line to not only save his own life but to point to a bigger clue to the guests after the Watchmaker legacy: Who dunit? For Aventurine, his story has more or less concluded in Penacony. He's not dead despite it looking like he is accepting his "death" because again- You can't die in Penacony. I do know he'll return in the next story. And Dr. Ratio has full faith in his return, and it was??? Like I got chicken tendy that Aventurine looked relieved reading his note. Like there is someone waiting for him. BUT ALSO HE'S SAYING GOODBYE TO HIS PAST SELF TOO, I'M JUST AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. TLDR: Jade is not okay during the entire Aventurine portion of the story. I just wanted to cry and hold this bitch close, because this bitch is making me emotionally attached to him. AND HIS BOSS FIGHT WAS SO COOL. I was reminded of Childe Foul Legacy appearance with the beam shooting from his mask but Aventurine was his chest gem. Super nostalgic. I was just super bummed when I found out H*yoverse just nerfed his boss fight when I fought him. ;;w;; I really wanted to experience how hard he was based from what everyone was saying, but I guess that's what I get for taking my time. Though I guess they had to nerf it so people can continue the story.

Gallagher & Sunday

Gallagher background information about the Watchmaker. The tidbits I focused on is the fact Mikhail, who we've been hearing about since last patch, is actually the Watchmaker (Betrayer of the Family). If the Watchmaker title is inherited, and Mikhail is dead, who is the next Watchmaker? Is it Gallagher, one of his "children" or another individual? He never did explain, if he knows, how the Watchmaker are chosen. (I'm putting my bets on Misha because why not-). Minor Vent: When Gallagher answered the question of his age with "I'm Thirteen"- I prayed that social media peeps do not take it literally. Unfortunately, and I mourn for this, people did take it literally. Yes, you can disguise yourself in dreams, but come on. It's obviously means something else and how quickly, Gallaghter changed topics back to the original subject at hand before anyone can ask about it. The question remains that idk if it's been answered in-game or it's in other lore (Relics- I haven't read the Watchmaker relics lore yet because I haven't needed to grind that set yet): What did the Watchmaker do that was considered betrayal to the Family and earn their hatred? And what did they do for the Oak Family to have set them up to be branded as traitors? I haven't gotten a good grasp of Sunday character yet. The characters, except Robin, have a neutral to disdainful view of him. I can tell he manipulates to get things done for the sake of the Family, likes to be very much in control of the situation, and very much adores his sister Robin. But the confrontation between Sunday and Gallagher has me going unga bunga. The tension between them as Sunday reveals his suspicions about Gallagher, ripping apart his identity piece by piece to unveil a bigger puzzle. I thought it was another Sparkles disguise moment, or when Gallagher called Sunday "my brother"- I thought it was Robin and I was like HUH???? And then I realized it was something akin to mocking Sunday. Also Sunday calling Gallagher follower of Enigmata. I had to look it up because I was not too far into Gold/Gears/Swarm Universe to unlock the Aeon of Enigmata. Oh boy, that unlocks ALOT of possibilities for Gallagher. BUT ALSO GALLAGTHER AND DEATH MEME CONNECTION???? THAT LAST SCENE OF DEATH APPEARING AND STABBING SUNDAY? WHAT THE FUCK I GOT BLUEBALLED SO HARD AT THE CLIFFHANGER. Holy shit so Gallagher is definitely (99% likely now) one of the culprits here. The question does remain is: Who is Gallagher exactly? Because Sunday described so many pieces Gallagher had taken from 52 loyal members of the Family and made it into his own identity. What was the truth and lie he told us, the Nameless? And what did happen to Sunday??? Man. Oh Man.

Sam & Trailblazer

Man, I was like already 99% certain Firefly and Sam are the same people. But at the end where Sam revealed himself to be Firefly, I was the Trailblazer for that moment getting sucker punched into the gut. Like, Trailblazer had no breaks??? How long has it been since they saw Firefly got stabbed and disappeared, and shortly found out Robin was also stabbed? And then they had to be dragged all over Penacony to unveil the murders behind it? And then fight Aventurine??? Like legit they get no breaks and to find out Firefly, whom they consider a close friend and thought they were dead, is actually alive and part of the Stellaron Hunters? Man I would feel betrayed. I am curious to Firefly/Sam story though.

Minor tidbits to include:

-Sparkles answering Aventurine inquiry about the "mute" person that is not Robin, but somebody else. This is still stuck in my head. I'm just like: ????????????????????

-Baby Aventurine is too cute and pure for this world.

-Jade (I found HSR version of me everyone /j) is beautiful and I am willing to roll for her.

-Black Swan investigating Acheron! I wish this was explored more, but I know this will be a big plot in 2.2 since we heard Boothill voice! I'm curious to what kind of relationship Acheron has with the Galaxy Rangers. She is an imposter, but she continues to call herself a Galaxy Ranger. In Boothill case, he has a vendetta against her and plans to fight her. But also! It's confirmed Acheron did kill Duke Inferno and his children escape! And we heard Constance too!

-Also!!! My son Dan Heng makes an appearance...Over the Astral Express group chat asking if he needs to join them in Penacony and help out. ;;w;; Because everyone was worried about the Trailblazer not responding and obviously something serious happened. And Mom Himeko reassuring he's not needed for now, and Dan Heng trusting they'll let him know when they need him. ;;w;;

[luckquartzed]

@fortifice // continued

Aventurine is not unfamiliar with a soldiers struggles , not entirely at least . The gambler had grown up in a clan expelled to the desert on a planet full of hostility , scant on resources . By the time he was captured he had seen more death in a few short years than most people saw their entire lives .

He was but a young child at the time , but he remembers speaking to the self appointed guards of their desert-bound village on occasion when he was no older than four or five . This was before his mother died , before his sister went to join her & father in the aurorae of Gaiathra Triclops . He recalls , vaguely , asking one of them why he patrolled the village , & the man had knelt beside him & told him it was for him , & all the other Avgin children & their families who needed protection . ‘ But you look tired , Uncle . Can’t you rest a while ? Come with me , Mama , Sis & I will cook for you & you can spend the night . ’ he had innocently addressed the elder , still a bit naive to the circumstances his people were facing between the drought , the rising tensions with the Katicans .

For a second , the man looked like he might cry . Instead , he kneels down beside Kakavasha & smiles gently at him . ‘ I am fine , protecting children like you make my job more than worth a few sleepless nights . As for your invitation … I will consider it . You are so very much like your Father , Kakavasha . Too kind for your own good . I will come visit you sometime , but for now you should go back home . ’ He’d hugged the man & felt the soldier stiffen as though in pain before ruffling the boy’s hair .

A week later , his mother was killed in one of the raids . Kakavasha never saw the man again ; he … never saw a lot of people again .

Thinking back , even though they’re were at conflict with other tribes , the Avgin never had to worry about being attacked by Fragmentum creatures , they were lookouts mostly fending off thieves & preparing in case of another raid . But that man had still held such a heavy burden . He doesn’t even know what his name was , for it was common for children to refer to their elders as aunts , uncles , siblings & grandparents out of respect .

Lost in thought , the gambler’s soft , supple hands find their way down the length of the Captain’s back , kneading each sinewy curve with the same digital dexterity of a card dealer , massaging every knot he finds until it loosens under his careful ministrations . Gepard’s words prompt a soft chuckle to fall from his lips , & he presses them to his temple in response , “ I thought that was supposed to be my line ? ” he remembers his own impatience during a different kind of rendezvous , being frustrated at first with how gentle the other was towards him before annoyance had melted into gentle confusion . He was not used to tenderness before he came to Belobog .

The soft , almost plaintive request causes the envoy to falter , & auroral pink & blue eyes soften as they gaze at the back of the Silvermane guard’s head , unguarded in their little sanctuary , a reprieve from the harsh world outside .

“ That so ? ” he murmurs , a fondness permeating his quiet reply .

Aventurine lifts himself off of the other , enough to help him roll over onto his back , one hand braced palm down beside the soldier’s head so he does not accidentally drop his full weight onto him , not that he thinks it would harm him with the advantage in physical strength the other has over him , but that’s not the point . Seeing his face once more , the Stoneheart can’t help the way his gaze warms . “ Hi , ” he breathes , a stupid little smile lifting the corners of his mouth .

He leans forward slowly , his mouth ghosting over Gepard’s before finally making contact with his lips , his free hand lifting to cup the underside of his jaw ever so gently , gemlike eyes fluttering shut .

[veritas-ratio-rp]

...You think I hate you?

*Quite an odd conversation starter-- but it's clear the blonde isn't at the scholar's door to mess around.*

Veritas, I'd say I'm honoured-- but I fear you're making me feel as if I'm hiding my true intent far too much...

*He grabs the doctor's chin in a gloved hand, holding it firmly enough that the other could pull away if he wished, but that the touch still held a warning.*

There's something different in your eyes, Veri~

*Is he drunk? High? Interesting... It's never occured to Aventurine that even the renowned scholar uses such mundane ways to distract himself from his troubles.*

What makes you think I dislike you, mmm~? *There's a teasing grin on his lips, something dangerous sparkling behind those neon eyes.*

~ @aventurine-official

*Veritas stares into Aventurine's eyes, not even trying to move away from the touch. The blonde's hand feels so comfortable. It would be even better without the unnecessary fabric between them. He would tear the gloves off, if he could.*

"You hate me, I'm sure. I hurt you. I don't deserve you to love me, I don't even deserve your care. Why don't you leave me alone? I don't want to hurt you again."

*He grips Aventurine's hips, quite awkwardly pulling the man into his arms. The gambler can't leave as he was asked to, even if he wants to.*

"If you didn't hate me, you wouldn't always put up the act. I want to see the real you. You don't let me."

*He looks at Aventurine, his eyes are filled with tears. He doesn't even try to hold back.*

"Can you be mine, at least for tonight? I only want to hold you."

[anonymouslycrying01]

I just came to the most mindbreaking (very mundane but after this long its very impactful lol) realisation ever. my eyes are grey. greyish-blue, but still grey, which is why I could never find my eye colour in the “blue eye shade” picture things. I have central heterochromia (my dad has complete heterochromia, one blue eye and one green-blue eye), so my eyes range anywhere between straight grey, blue, blue-green, and will sometimes even look brown (I’m really interested in heterochromia [and just eyes/ eye colour in general lol], and will most likely end up making a post about how heterochromia works so look out for that if you are interested. I’m also mostly educated in central heterochromia, so feel free to check out and correct me!)

anywho, for those who don’t know, unlike blue eyes, which is a lack/small amount of pigment called “melanin” (also what colours your skin and hair!), grey eyes have low to zero pigment (melanin)! the less melanin your eyes contain, the more sensitive they are to light. making grey, red, and violet the most, blue and green the second most/middle, and brown the least

this being said, its interesting that my eyes are grey considering the central heterochromia (typically blue-grey [like grey aventurine] with orangish-brown [like amber] around my pupil), because that combines very low amounts of melanin with very high amounts of melanin. so, does that mean that I have really sensitive eyes, or really strong eyes? (as I’ll explain more in my heterochromia post): central heterochromia is rings of pigment, with the inner ring if the iris being a different colour than the outer ring. the outer ring is the colour that is seen more, so whatever colour is on the outer ring is your main eye colour.

After talking about heterochromja and my eyes so much, I think its only fair to share a few different pictures of them (as mentioned before, the colours range due to the different pigments)

Have a great day/night :] <3

[memoriesoftanalorr]

missing writting them at all and struggle to do so for a long time but now maybe try to make it. Me crying oh.

Sorry if I'm writting it dunno if you're okay with this that I'm posting it here but I can't make it up on da. @lawfuldumbassperson Carson and Kenneth is belongs to my buddy and Anna by me. Edwin Bluestein by @jess0313

Oh, uhm, I'm re-read info about Carson and Kenneth again from a long time and they're not into GR settings anymore? My bad but I don't care! XD also it was interesting to read about them since I forget some stuff about these guys. Also I barely remember the old roleplay but there's was a little interaction between Ana and Ken. I hope I get the boys right and also I'm nervous cause I'm mentioned sweet boy Edwin. Just to be correct but I'm trying.

Anna finally get a summertime break, she is went back to the town where she was born, Charlottetown. In an old house of her parents everything was messy, she clears all the rooms and take care of the garden at their backyard, in the garden soon a light pink peonies blossom. She decided to visit her friend though she struggled to do so since it was a long time since they're see each other.

She walked down the streets, she wore a green one-sleeve blouse, white pants, green aventurine braclets and green sandals with yellow stripes, and a backpack. Anna look at the purple skies with yellow streak of the sun and the clouds. " What a lovely sunset. Carson should see it too."

"What are you doing here?" A blue haired young man with a scar on his chin approaching her unnoticed, he get a knife over her neck, she's frees herself from his grip. "Kenneth?" Anna asked in a slight shock. "How did you do that? I'm not sure we're meet before..." Kenneth gave her a puzzled glare. "Well, this is matter of practice. My name is Anna Black, your brother's friend, don't you remember me?" she reminded him.

"Don't mind me. You look different and it was a long time. New haircut? You look hot by the way." Kenneth grinned. "Just like the weather today and you're dyed your hair? How are you?" Anna laughed.

"Bounty hunter stuff and such, don't tell to anyone." Kenneth whispered. "Or what? Something bad going to happen to me?" Anna making a joke but still she start to feel herself uncomfortable. "I'd recommend you not to do that." Kenneth replied gloomy. "Okay. How's Carson? Is he busy? I want to visit him." Anna asked desperately.

"He's at home now, working on some stuff." Kenneth said. "Oh, I should've sent him a message at least that I'm going to come." Anna lowered her head, she feel herself disencouraged. "Good luck with that. By the way, take my keys so you could sneak into the the house. Make him a surprise then." Kenneth giving her his keys from the front door. "Uhm, are you sure? I mean it's your keys." Anna struggled.

"I'm totally okay with you taking my keys for some time. I need to go but I'll come back soon." Kenneth assured her and runs away. "Alright, I'll return you your keys on the way back." Anna shouted happily to him. "Yup!" Ken shouted back from the distance.

Anna get a deep breath and stepped over the house carefully and unlocked the front door. She locked the door and then walked in the living room. "Is that you, Kenneth?" Carson asked hearing noises behind his back, he drinking coffee and looking at the holo-screen. "No, it's not Kenneth. Guess again." Anna make a slight laughter. Carson's body tensed in surprise because of hearing her voice. "Anne?" Carson turned his face towards her. It was unexpected so he feels confused. "I'm sorry if I get a wrong time for visiting you if you're busy." Anna lowered her head. "Quite so." Carson pointed out. "What are you working on?" Anna asked curiosity. "Mostly robotics and AI." Carson answered. *Awesome. How long you're working on it?" she wondered. "Several hours." Carson replied. "Oh, you need a break or your brain not going to function properly." Anna pocked his forehead gently. "I'm not tired." Carson snapped her hand away moody. "No buts. By the way, how about to get outside and talk a bit? It's a really nice sunset today." Anna pushed his shoulder playfully. "You're here just to show me a sunset?" Carson rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on. Why not get outside and enjoying the sunset? Please, Salazar! it won't be long." "Fine but only not so long." Carson softened. "Thanks." Anna smiled.

They're sat down on the bench in the nearby park. Weather at the afternoon was not so hot and not so windy. "I'm sorry for being mean but this project is really important to me. Hey, from when you're started wearing braclets?" Carson apologies. "I can understand that." Anna nodded to him. "Tell me about yourself then. I don't even know what to ask your first." Carson rubbed his arm. "I'm get into science as well, it's analytical chemistry and toxicology." Anna replied. "Sounds great. Do you like it, isn't it? Is it hard for you?" he asked. "Kinda because it's dangerous job but interesting and important to me as well." Anna confessed. "Glad to hear that. What your boyfriend name is? Did he confessed to you yet? You know what I'm mean." Carson teased her. "His name is Edwin Bluestein. And if you're meant if he's confessed his feelings to me. Well, not yet but we're working on it." Anna blushes a bit. "I'd tell to this Bluestein guy to hurry up because it's really not nice to make waiting such a girl like you for so long. What he is like?" "Edwin is genius and a rich guy, he's also caring and kind. We're get through a lot of together." Anna said. "Oh, I see." Carson teased her again. "Stop that!" Anna pushed his shoulder again emotionally but in a playful way. "Okay." Carson smirked. "Kenneth gave me his keys, I'm keep it in my pocket for a while. He said he'll come back soon." "I can return him the keys myself if you're want." Carson replied looking st the sunset. "Okay." Anna lending him the keys with a nod. They're enjoyed the sunset and Anna make photo and then about to she needed to do one thing before leaving. "Hey, Carson. I think I'm forget about one thing that I'm wanted to do for so long." "What is it?" Carson asked. "A hug." She hugged him tightly. Carson was surprised but hugged her back. "See you later, Anne." "Maybe." Anna smiled. Kenneth come to them some minutes ago. Anna said bye to him too and leave. "Anna is leaving that soon, huh?" Kenneth asked his brother. "Yeah. I need to get back to work." Carson replied. "Tell me what's she told you when you finish your work." Ken smiling. "Sure. Take your keys." "Knew that I can count on that girl."

[witch-of-snow-and-stars]

Pick-a-Card Reading #1:Who is the Next Person You Date?

This is a general reading, so only keep what resonates and leave the rest (this is for entertainment purposes only). I’ll be using they/them for the people discussed. Pile 1 is a Sodalite Seahorse, pile 2 is a Gold Dragon, pile 3 is a Kambaba Jasper Seal, pile 4 is a Green Aventurine Eagle, and pile 5 is an Unakite Tiger (these are all little figures from one of my alters, they’re just too small to photograph well). Pick the pile(s) that resonates with you, the results are under the cut!  Any feedback is appreciated and please read the note at the bottom of the post 💚

Pile 1 🌊🐴: This person is confident, funny, charming, honest, and protective with masculine energy (represented by the King of Wands, the Magician, & the Ace of Cups). They may be someone who could impress you with their wisdom or abilities, and they may do well in social environments or be savvy about how others feel about them. This person is energetic and understands different connections well, but they may use their savvy against rivals. I see them as someone who is friendly and energetic, but they’re quicker on the uptake than most would assume if you get my meaning.

The main aspects of the relationship were that this relationship has great potential for long term happiness and independence for the both of you, but I think you may hit a point in the relationship where one or both of you may want to explore other options because the honeymoon period is over. Now it is totally possible that there are better options, but you may still have a solid relationship that is just not as exciting as it once was.

The runes I pulled for this pile symbolize marriage, success, and friendship. I think this has potential to be a fruitful relationship, even if it changes from a romantic to platonic relationship.

Pile 2 🐉: This person is stable, pragmatic, cautious, and loyal with masculine energy (represented by the King of Pentacles, the Lovers, & the 4 of Cups). They may be a romantic at heart and may fantasize or daydream. They may also feel like a kindred spirit to you or more likely they really try to make connections with people as they go through life. I believe they may trigger or help the healing of people surrounding them, or at the very least they have an energy to them that feels safe to others. They probably take a lot of pride in their work and do it with a lot of care, most likely holding it to a rigorous standard. It would not shock me if they were regularly trying to better their work in general.

The main aspects of the relationship were that this relationship is founded on loyalty, caring, and emotional security. I think there may be an event that renews the relationship or that the relationship seems to renew itself.

The runes I pulled for this pile symbolize wealth, safety, and friendship. I believe this will be a relationship that is generally comfortable and amicable without much pressure on either of you.

Pile 3 🌊🐕 : This person is mysterious, affectionate, caring, domestic, and spiritual with feminine energy (represented by the Queen of Cups, the High Priestess, & the 10 of Cups). This person is hopeful and believes the future can be better than the present, while also being expressive and honest in their daily life. Due to the multiple oracle cards I pulled that were related to communication, I wouldn’t be shocked if they were involved in Communication professionally or were a speaker of some kind.

The main aspects of the relationship were that this could be a relationship in which you lay down roots and have a happy commitment. There could definitely be soulmate energy/feelings between the two of you, but generally there’s a very good chance of this being a harmonious and blissfully domestic match.

The runes I pulled for this pile symbolize home, wealth, and marriage. Personally I just read this to back up the cards depicting the main aspects of this relationship in that it will be a comfortable relationship to be in.

Pile 4 🦅: This person is quick witted, inquisitive, social, and is sought-after in different spheres with feminine/androgynous energy (represented by the Page of Swords, the Lovers, & the 2 of Cups). This person may be quite intelligent and a bit of a socialite, who may be well-known or held at some level of respect in their communities. This person may be wise to things or know things before they really have reason to. They also may be understand cycles well or may be good at understanding/helping others through different life stages/grief. Or they may be adept from going through one life transition to another. They might be an Aquarius (but that’s a bit too specific for this reading)

The main aspects of the relationship were that there may be a time where the relationship goes stale and evolution of the relationship needs to happen. However, when the relationship does go deeper, I think it will be a fruitful if somewhat unconventional. Issues from past relationships may become relevant again, but the both of you working through them will be beneficial both personally and to the relationship

The runes I pulled for this pile were destiny, future, victory. There may be a feeling that ‘you were destined to meet’ or similar feelings. I think that both of you may experience overcoming obstacles or victories in your personal lives as a result of this relationship. There may also be promise of a long-term future of involvement, whether the connection remains romantic or shifts paradigms.

Pile 5 🐅: This person is energetic, structured, emotionally strong, introspective, and open minded with masculine energy (represented by the Knight of Wands, the World, & the 8 of Cups). There are several cards that indicate that they travel regularly or may have a lot of worldly experience. This person is a good source of guidance, and might be good at healing/benefiting others in their company. They’re generally wise and see the value of being present in the here and now with people.

The main aspects of the relationship were that this relationship is just (excuse my language) really fuckin’ solid. It’s marked by emotional stability and bonding, loyalty, and genuine care for each other. Genuinely there just seems to be a really strong foundation for a relationship here.

The runes I pulled for this pile were victory, love, luck. One/both of you may feel as though you’re lucky to have each other, and it’s likely that you both love the other quite a bit! Victories in your personal lives may be caused by/benefited by the relationship.

🌟💙🌟💙🌟💙🌟💙🌟💙🌟💙🌟💙🌟💙🌟💙🌟💙🌟

Thank you for reading this, I hope you enjoyed your reading! Any feedback or comments are greatly appreciated! I'll try to change the format according to feedback if it would make for a better experience, as well as look for any topics people may want me to do PAC readings on!

Thank you again, have a good day!

[faceachefics]

A Little Addition

Pair: Nancy Downs x Reader

Summary: Nancy notices your crystal collection, and realizes you two aren’t as different as she originally thought.

Word Count: 1506

    You cleaned your room the second you got home. Nancy was supposed to come over in the afternoon and you nearly forgot how disorganized it was until last minute. To be fair, you were able to get everything sorted out in less than half an hour. If only that would always be the case regardless of whether or not your crush was visiting. The doorbell rang and you rushed to the source of the sound. You opened the front door to be met with a pale girl with done-up hair.

    “Nancy, hi!” You greeted her with a bright smile. She responded with a deadpan “Hey” and invited herself into your house. The only reason Nancy was here was because Rochelle and Bonnie dared her to spend the rest of the afternoon with you. They would tease her for frequently stealing glances at you when you weren’t paying attention. She would respond by denying it, saying you were too normal for her. However, she knew there had to be something about you that piqued her interest.

    You followed her into the living room as she set her bag on the coffee table and crashed onto the couch. “Is there… anything you wanted to do?” It was difficult to make eye contact with her. No matter what mood Nancy was in, she always seemed agitated. Every glimpse of her piercing, gray eyes made you progressively more nervous. She shrugged. It wasn’t like you knew enough about each other to come up with anything fun to do. “I can show you around the house.”

    “Sure,” Nancy replied, looking around the room. It beat sitting around in silence. Plus, you two could have something to talk about if anything caught her eye.

    “Did you just move in or something?” She asked as she analyzed the house. The general décor was comfortable, but it was also basic – almost minimalistic. It was a genuine question, but it sounded like a subtle jab at your choice of furniture.

    “Uh… no,” You replied while furrowing your brows. “I’ve actually lived here for a few years.” Now Nancy felt like a jerk for asking. She also realized how long you two went to the same high school without her noticing you at all. To be fair, the school was big, and it was a possibility that you didn’t share any classes with each other.

    Regardless of whether that was the case, the first time she acknowledged your presence was in the tea place you worked at. She started going there more often with her friends after she had you as her waiter. They noticed the way Nancy looked at you while you were occupied with other customers or cleaning vacant tables, and how she grinned at you when you would give her a polite smile.

    Rochelle and Bonnie would poke fun at her for it, but they also encouraged her to shoot her shot. However, she was stubborn and denied liking you at all. You weren’t that special. You were just a waiter providing service for her like you would do with any other customer. Why would she look forward to seeing you every time she visited the tea shop? Why was she so drawn to you?

    You finally reached the bedroom. Much like the rest of your house, there wasn’t much to look at. A bed, a nightstand, a dresser – the essentials. The color palette was cute, but nothing impressive to her. One thing that caught Nancy’s eye, however, was the shelf full of crystals. She trailed off from behind you to get a better look.

    “You collect crystals, Y/N?” She asked, not breaking eye contact with the menagerie of minerals. There were many stones she recognized: aventurine, citrine, amethyst, selenite, and so on.

    “Yeah,” you replied, turning around to face her. “They’ve helped me with… healing and manifestation.” You hesitated out of nervousness. There have been a few people who would laugh at you for mentioning that. Of course, that didn’t stop you from believing in the power in crystals, but it did make you worry enough to rarely share that particular interest with people.

    Nancy turned her head to look at you with her eyebrows raised. So you’re a weirdo like her.

    “Do… do you?”

    “Nah,” She replied. You were just relieved she didn’t make of you for it. “I mean, I have black tourmaline and opal at home, but not too big on collecting that stuff. Even if I wanted to, I can’t ‘cause I don’t have a lot of money.” Finally, something to talk about, plus some insight on her life.

    Nancy spotted your malachite and picked it up. It was much colder and denser than she expected. “Aww, Y/N.” She turned to you with a mock pout. “Do you have a scary monster under your bed?” She snickered as she watched you frown with flushed cheeks.

    “Oh be quiet,” You raised your voice. “You gotta at least have one in your closet if you have tourmaline.” She threw her head back and laughed. You did have a point.

    “I’m surprised this is real, though,” Nancy calmed down as she felt the heavy stone still in her hand. “Most of the time stores sell plastic duds. Guess you’re pretty lucky.” She replaced the malachite, and her eyes traveled to a light pink object nearby. She took it from its place to scan it.

    A rose quartz heart. Nancy gaze softened at the shape. This was a stone for attracting love – romantic love. “Manifestation”, huh? She looked up at you and you averted your gaze.

    You did buy the crystal to attract a partner. In fact, not long after you got it, Nancy showed up at the shop. Her style was on the edgier side, making her stand out from everyone else. Her default expression was moody, but she always returned your smiles. You had wanted to sit down and talk with her and her friends, but you never did out of fear that you would bore them. When the goth girl expressed interest in you by asking to come over to your house, it felt like a spark of electricity ran up your spine.

    “This is cute,” Nancy meekly commented before putting the rose quartz away. There was now an oddly romantic tension between the two of you. Did this mean something? She tried to brush off the thought, but she knew it was going to bug her for the rest of the week.

    “You know,” You began, clearing your throat. “We could go downtown and check out the antiques or something. We don’t have to stay here.” Some fresh air would do you both some good at this moment. You gave her a small, nervous smile, and Nancy exchanged it for a bigger one.

    “Punk rock,” She responded. “Let’s go, then.”

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

    The sky turned orange as night approached. Her mom would probably yell at her for getting home so late, but Nancy walked you home anyway.

    “Thanks for taking me out,” You said during the embrace. You pulled away and saw her eyes locked on you. There was a moment of silence. Her intense gaze made your heartbeat pick up its pace. You looked so pretty in the warm light.

    Nancy snapped out of her daze and realized something. She reached into her bag and pulled out a crystal. She offered it to you, and you took it.

    “Snagged that from the crystal shop,” She spoke, giving you a toothy grin. “It’s clear quartz. Noticed you didn’t have any, so I thought I’d make a little addition to your collection.” A small chuckle slipped out while you examined the quartz. It should have been one of the first crystals you got, but you often overlooked it for ones to fulfill your more specific desires.

    “Aw, thank you,” You went in for another hug, but this time you planted a peck on her cheek. You pulled away and entered your house. “Well goodnight, Nancy! Get home safe.” You waved to her, then shut the door. Nancy was in another daze. She was thankful you couldn’t see the blush on her cheeks. She raised a hand to where you kissed her, for she could hardly believe you really did that.

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

    Nancy was both exhausted from her walk home and the scolding she received from her mother. She could still hear muffled yelling from her bedroom. She rummaged through her bag and found the second quartz she got for herself, placing it on her nightstand. The girl lied down on the bed, and admired it as the faint moonlight went through it.

    A small smile tugged at her lips as she replayed the kiss in her mind. Nancy hoped to see you again soon, especially when she now knew you liked her too. Then, she thought about the rose quartz. Maybe she was the partner you were looking for. She hid her flushed face in the pillow despite the fact no one was there to see it.

    Those rocks really were something.

[celestialvoid-fanfiction]

The Real Me

Every morning, he wakes up in a new body, remembering nothing but his name. He’s scared and confused and the only constant is Derek Hale.

Commission for @aprol-mata - I hope you like it!

  The first time he woke up, he was a blond boy with thick curls, bright blue eyes, and a sweet smile. But that morning, when he looked at himself in the mirror, there was an uneasy feeling of dissociation. He knew that wasn’t him.

Think, he scolded himself. What’s the last thing you remember?

Mieczyslaw.

The name was the only thing he could remember—just the name and endless darkness.

The knock at the bedroom door startled him.

“Isaac?” The door opened as a young man stepped in. He looked like the boy in the mirror—blonde hair, sapphire blue eyes, and a kind face, but his hair was shorter, his eyes darker, and he looked to be at least three years older. “I just want to make sure you’re alright.”

“I’m fine,” he replied.

The older boy’s eyes drifted down to his brother’s arms.

Mieczyslaw glanced down, looking at the smears of purple, black and blue that marred his pale flesh.

“Dad was a little… intense last night,” his brother said. “You sure you’re alright?”

“It’s fine,” Mieczyslaw repeated, grabbing the long-sleeve shirt that sat by the foot of his bed. He tugged it on, feeling his body ache, his skin pulled tight around more tender bruises. He fought to keep a straight face as he pulled on a pair of jeans and shoes and grabbed a jacket. “I just need some air.”

Before the boy could protest, Mieczyslaw skirted around him and made his way downstairs. He shrugged on the jacket and made his way out into the street.

The town seemed familiar, but nothing seemed to spark any memories; he couldn’t find a street name or a house that sparked a memory.

He made his way to the edge of town, to where the small, obnoxiously coloured playground bordered the edge of the preserve. He followed the trail that lead into the labyrinth of trees – thick pine trees arching over him and skeletal, pale birch trees with black eyes that watched him as he walked into the cool darkness.

The dry husks of leaves crackled beneath his feet, the rich smell of sweet petrichor filling his lungs as he walked along the muddy train and further into the woods. The trees towered over him, beams of light shining through the canopy.

Crystal-like droplets of dew gathered on the wavering blades of grass and delicate flowers grew along the edge of the path, filling the undergrowth with bursts of colour: white, purple, yellow, and blue.

He tried to draw in steady breath, calming himself as he tried to make sense of what was happening.

He’d woken up in someone else’s body—some kid called Isaac.

He dug his hands into his jacket pockets, slowing to a stop as he tried to steady his racing heart. He shifted from foot to foot as he turned about, realising he had lost his way among the labyrinth of trees and blankets of yellow fallen leaves.

He turned, catching a glimpse of a figure among the skeletal trees. He let out a sharp gasp, his heart lurching in his chest.

He bowed his head, trying to avoid eye contact as the man stalked towards him.

The man looked to be in his twenties. He had a square jaw that was darkened by stubble and wore an old black leather jacket. He ran his hand through his thick, dark hair, trying to tame the mess that was tousled by the wind. His pale aventurine eyes were fixed on them, the pale depths shifting from hues of green to brown and blue—mesmerising.

“What are you doing here?” the man demanded. “This is private property.”

Mieczyslaw felt his heart skip a beat. He ran his hand through his thick sandy-blonde curls, shifting anxiously as he said, “Sorry, man. I didn’t know.”

The man narrowed his eyes on him.

“I got turned around,” Mieczyslaw said, his pulse hammering in his ears.

The man tilted his head slightly, levelling him with a questioning look. “What’s your name?”

“Mieczyslaw,” he answered without thinking. He paused, his brown furrowing slightly. “Do I know you?”

“No,” the man replied. “I don’t think so.”

A moment of quiet settled between them.

“The walking track is about two minutes that way,” the man said, pointing towards the trees behind the boy.

“Thank you,” Mieczyslaw said, turning to leave. He paused for a second before turning back towards the man. “What’s your name?”

The man raised his brows.

“I told you mine, it’s only fair that you tell me yours,” he said.

“Derek,” the man replied. “Derek Hale.”

  Mieczyslaw wandered about aimlessly for a while before his body began to ache. He made his way back down the familiar streets to the house he had left that morning. He pushed open the door and stepped inside, shrugging off his jacket and hanging it up before kicking off his boots.

“Where the hell have you been?” a man shouted from the kitchen.

Mieczyslaw turned, his heart lurching into his throat as the man appeared in the doorway, his dark eyes fixed on him. He had a rectangular face with thinning brown hair and a pair of thin-framed silver glasses that sat on his wrinkled face. His cheeks were flushed red and he held a bottle in his hand.

“I went for a walk,” he said, hating himself for how weak his voice was.

“You went for a walk?” the man repeated back mockingly.

Without wanting the man hurled the bottle at him.

Mieczyslaw ducked as the bottle hit the doorframe, raining shards of glass over him. His nostrils burnt with the bitter smell of whiskey as the alcohol soaked his shirt.

It took him a second to steady himself before he looked up at the man, his eyes wide.

The man lunged at him, grabbing him by the throat and hoisting him off his feet.

Mieczyslaw choked on his breath, clawing at the man’s arms. Hot tears stung his eyes, blurring the world around as bursts of colour filled his vision and darkness crept into his periphery.

“Dad, stop,” his brother called out. “Please, stop.”

The man ignored his son. He tightened his grip around Isaac’s throat as he spat, “We’d all be better of if you were dead.”

“So would we,” Isaac rasped.

He slammed his knee into his father’s gut, breaking free of the man’s grasp as he doubled over in pain.

He slowly straightened, glaring at Isaac; livid with rage. “You bastard!”

The man charged at him.

Mieczyslaw balled his hand into a fist and swung at him. He slammed his fist into the man’s jaw, his knuckles hitting the bone with a sickening crack.

The man staggered backwards before falling to the floor with a painful thud. He didn’t get up.

Mieczyslaw watched the man’s still body, breathing out a sigh of relief as the man’s chest rose and fell with steady breaths.

“Isaac,” his brother called, rushing over to his side. He took his brother’s face in his hands, his midnight blue eyes full of worry. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he replied.

“I’m going to call the police,” Camden said, his voice calm and steady.

“No, please—”

“It was self-defence. They’ll understand that.”

That night, the boys went to sleep in a motel, a deputy standing guard outside their room. It was over; the Sheriff had assured them that Camden would get custody of Isaac and that they’d set them up somewhere safe and keep them safe until the case was closed.

  When he woke up the next morning, he was buried in a pile of soft blankets. He pushed them back and sat up, feeling a curtain of wavy hair fall around his face. He brushed it back, blinking in surprise as he looked across the room at the reflection in the full-length mirror.

“Oh my God,” he muttered, his eyes wide as he looked at his reflection.

He stared at the face of the teenage girl, a mess of strawberry blonde hair falling around his shoulders. She had pale, jade-green eyes and soft pink lips.

“No, no, no,” he whispered. “This can’t be happening.”

Mieczyslaw kicked his legs free from the sheets and grabbed the nearest clothes he could find; a pair of jeans and a black singlet that had been tossed across the back of a chair. He found a soft, knitted cardigan and pulled it on, as well as a pair of low-heeled boots.

He made his way out of the house and walked until he found himself in the middle of the woods, standing among the blankets of frail leaves and towering pine trees. He looked up at the canopy, watching the beams of light dance as they filtered through the changing leaves. The tree branches stretched across the sky, painting it with colour: burgundy, umber, crimson, vermillion, orange, yellow, and green.

He had to admit, he was relieved when he saw Derek emerge from the woods, his face set in a stern snarl.

“This is—”

“Private property,” Mieczyslaw finished, startled slightly by the sound of his voice. “I know. But I need your help.”

“Do I know you?” Derek asked.

“We met yesterday,” Mieczyslaw said. “But I looked different. And I know this I going to sound insane, but I need you to hear me out. I woke up yesterday in a body that wasn’t mine, and the same happened this morning. I don’t remember anything, but I do remember you; I don’t know how I remember you, but I do.”

Derek stared at him blankly.

“My name Mieczyslaw,” he said slowly.

“And you’re a guy in a girl’s body?” Derek finished. A wicket smirk lifted the corner of his lips as he teasingly asked, “How’s that working out for you?”

“I got dressed with my eyes shut,” Mieczyslaw replied defensively.

“I don’t know how to tell you this,” Derek started slowly, “but if you’re looking for help, I don’t know how to help you.”

“I know,” he said, defeated. “I just… I’m always drawn here—to you—and I don’t know why.”

“Alright, just take a breath,” Derek said, his deep voice soothing. “Why don’t we go back to my place? It’s about to rain.”

Mieczyslaw nodded, following the man back through the undergrowth and to a large house. The A-frame roof was covered in dark tiles, the outside covered in wooden siding that was painted a chestnut brown—slightly darker than the original cream paint. The details were all there; white trim, large windows, and dark shutters. There were spots in the siding where you could see he had patched it up, where new wood met the withered, charred old wood like the smooth skin of a healing scar.

There was something about the house that was familiar, but Mieczyslaw couldn’t tell if it was from his memories, or from the girl’s.

Derek led the way inside, into the large foyer that faced a central staircase.

“Wow,” he uttered breathlessly, his wide eyes taking in every detail.

“I’ve spent the last eight years rebuilding this place,” Derek told him as he made his way through the dining room and into the kitchen, filling an old iron kettle and setting it on the stove to boil.

“Rebuilding?” Mieczyslaw repeated. “What happened?”

“A fire,” Derek said, his voice quiet.

Mieczyslaw saw the glint of pain that passed over his eyes and decided not to press the matter.

“So, tell me what’s going on?” Derek said, pulling two mugs from the nearby cupboard and setting them on the counter.

“Where do I start?” Mieczyslaw muttered to himself. “I woke up yesterday and I was in someone else’s body—some kid called Isaac. I have no memories of who I am aside from my name, and no idea why this is happening. I went to sleep in Isaac’s body last night and, this morning, woke up in this body.”

“So you change bodies when you fall asleep?” Derek reiterated.

“Yeah, apparently,” Mieczyslaw replied, “and I don’t know how—or how to stop it.”

“Maybe you need to find your body?” Derek offered.

“That’s a great idea, but one problem.”

“What’s that?”

“I have no idea who I am,” Mieczyslaw admitted.

  Derek was right; it rained not long after they made it back to the house. The heavy grey clouds rolled in and the sky darkened. The heavy rain fell to the earth, crashing against the windows and streaming down the glass in glistening rivulets.

The sweet smell of petrichor filled the air and the sound of the rain falling against the roof soothed him.

The two of them sat in the lounge room, drinking tea and talking, until the storm passed and Mieczyslaw looked out the large bay window at the bright sunset.

The sky was streaked with vibrant colours: orange, pink, purple and blue.

“I’d better be getting back,” Mieczyslaw said. “Otherwise, this girl—” he pointed at himself. “—is going to wake up in a stranger’s house or in the middle of nowhere, and I know how scary that can be.”

“Let me, at least, give you a ride home,” Derek said softly, picking up the keys that sat on the coffee table between them.

Mieczyslaw smiled. “Thank you.”

  The next morning, he woke up in a room that was vaguely familiar. He sat up, looking at the coffee-brown walls and scattered posters, photos, and framed art. He kicked his legs free of the sheets and ran into the bathroom. He looked at his reflection; a young teen with a mop of thick brown hair, tan skin, and dark eyes.

“Holy shit,” Mieczyslaw whispered. “I’m Scott.”

A hint of lingering doubt sat in the back of his mind. He pulled up the sleeve of his tee-shirt and turned slightly, looking at the reflection in the mirror. Sure enough, he looked down at the two rings of black ink that encircled his bicep.

“I hate that stupid tattoo,” he muttered to himself, tugging down his sleeve.

He made his way back into the room, looking around for clothes. He picked up a pair of jeans that lay on the floor, pulling them on before grabbing a pair of sneakers and a sports jacket. He made his way downstairs and out the front door, navigating the familiar streets as he made his way down to the playground on the edge of town.

He buried his hands in his jacket pockets and making his way down the muddy walking tracks and into the familiar clearing in the woods.

He let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding when he saw Derek waiting for him, his shoulders sagging with relief.

“Derek,” he called out.

Derek turned, lifting a brow as his pale aventurine eyes met Mieczyslaw’s.

“Another day, another body,” he said, looking the teen up and down with a thoughtful expression.

“This time it’s weird,” Mieczyslaw said. “I know this guy. This is Scott.”

Derek blinked in surprise. “You know him?”

“Yes, but for the life of me I don’t know how I know him.”

Before Derek could say anything, the phone in Scott’s jacket pocket rang. He pulled it out, looking down at the screen as a photo of a beautiful woman with long black hair appeared on screen and the caller ID that read MUM.

He answered the call. “Hi, Mum.”

“Hey, sweetie,” she replied, her voice soft and familiar. “The nurses are ordering Thai but none of us can get a break right now. Could you please pick it up and bring it to the hospital for us?”

“The usual place?” he asked.

“Yeah, the place on Main Street,” she replied.

“Sure, no problem.”

“Thank you, sweetheart,” she said; he could hear the smile in her voice. “I’ve got to go. I’ll see you when you get here.”

“Okay. Bye.” He hung up. “I’ve got to go and pick up Thai food.”

“I’ll give you a lift,” Derek offered, nodding back the way he had come.

  He didn’t look at Derek as they drove; he kept his eyes out the window as Derek revved the engine and glided out of the parking lot. Slowly, Mieczyslaw felt himself relax, sinking into the plush seats as the purr of the Camaro’s engine rumbled through his chest.

“So you change bodies every time you fall asleep, right?” Derek said as they drove into town. “Have you tried staying awake?”

“I’ve considered it, but… I can’t.”

“What if I stay awake with you?” Derek offered. “I’ll buy energy drinks, make coffee, whatever you need.”

“I can’t,” Mieczyslaw objected. “These people have their own lives, their own souls, and I can’t…” His words fell away as he turned his eyes out the window at the dreary grey sky.

“You can’t take over their lives,” Derek finished.

Mieczyslaw let out a dejected sigh. “I don’t know what to do. I guess, I just have to hope that I’ll eventually wake up in my own body.”

  He wasn’t sure when he had fallen asleep, but he let out a weak breath as he blinked his eyes open. He squinted against the glaring light overhead, grimacing at the bitter smell of rubbing alcohol and lemon-scented cleaner that burnt his nostrils.

His head was throbbing, his limbs weighed down like stone

There was a woman sitting by his bed, monitoring the beeping machines.

Stiles blinked heavily as he tried to focus on her—trying to take in the details. A small gold necklace hung around her neck, the pendant was woven strands of gold with four gemstones set into the design. Her soft face was worn with creases, a kind smile lifting the corners of her mouth. Her eyes were like dark smoky quartz. Her long dark hair had been pulled back in a ponytail, falling in messy waves down her back. A few curls had escaped the elastic tie, falling down around her face. She smelt like roses and something nostalgic.

He knew her face; he’d seen it before.

She turned to look at him, letting out a sharp gasp as she jumped.

“You’re awake,” she said, shocked. She rose to her feet and hurried towards the door. “Wait right here. I’ll be right back.”

“Oh shit,” Mieczyslaw rasped.

You have to move, his mind screamed. You have to get out of here now!

His body ached as he tried to sit up, his hands shaking as he unhooked the IV in his arm and carefully removed it. Pain shot up his forearm as he pulled the needle form his arm.

He dragged himself from the bed, searing pain soaring through his legs as he struggled to move. He staggered over to the small chair in the corner of the room, a duffle bag sitting on it. He pulled open the zip, relieved when he found a change of clothes: jeans, shirt, bright red hoodie, and a pair of sneakers.

He didn’t bother with the shirt – the hospital gown he wore would have to be enough – and quickly got dressed.

He tried his best to act normal as he stuck past the hospital staff dressed in teal scrubs and white coats and out of the hospital.

He buried his shaking hands in his pockets as he made his way across town. He had to stop a few times, leaning against a streetlight or a thick tree truck to catch his breath.

His legs ached and trembled as they strained to hold his weight, but he willed himself to keep going; following the trail through the preserve and into the middle of the woods.

He stood in the clearing, standing among the blankets of frail leaves and towering pine trees, and watched the light dance across the forest floor.

“I was beginning to wonder if you were going to come,” a voice called out behind him.

He turned to see Derek standing amongst the trees.

“I had a little trouble getting here,” he admitted, gently rubbing his tender forearm where the IV had been.

“I tried,” Mieczyslaw said after a moment. “I tried to stay awake.”

“By the looks of it, it didn’t work,” Derek said, a kind smile playing across his lips.

“I couldn’t do it,” Mieczyslaw admitted. “I tried, but I don’t know if it was exhaustion or morality that won over, but I couldn’t do it.”

“Why don’t I stay awake with you tonight?” Derek asked, an edge of desperation and pleading in his voice. “Maybe this time it’ll be different.”

“I can’t,” Mieczyslaw replied.

“Just try—”

“No, Derek, I can’t,” he insisted. “These people… they have their own lives. I can’t just live in someone else’s body.”

Derek looked heartbroken, his pale aventurine eyes shimmering as he fought back tears. “So, what do we do?”

He didn’t reply. He let out a weak breath, swallowing hard as he felt his body weaken beneath him. His stomach twisted nauseatingly as the world began to spin.

“Mieczyslaw?” Derek called, taking a step forward.

“I think I know why this guy was in hospital,” he muttered.

“You were in hospital?” Derek shouted.

He tried to speak, his lips quivering as he tried to form words. Tears welled in his eyes as he struggled to swallow against the lump in his throat.

“Mieczyslaw?”

He didn’t reply.

His eyes fluttered shut as the darkness consumed him. He felt his body crumble beneath him as he collapsed to the ground and fell into oblivion.

  Stiles slowly blinked his eyes open to the painful glare of the bright lights overhead. He winced, letting out a weak groan as he slowly opened his eyes again.

He took in the details; white walls, colourful balloons that read ‘GET WELL SOON’, a bunch of flowers that sat on the small table by the window, the machines that beeped and whirred, and the man who sat beside him, his head rested against the edge of the hospital bed and his hand on Stiles’.

Stiles gently squeezed his hand, stirring the man.

He looked at the boy with pale aventurine eyes. “Are you… still you?”

Stiles blinked in confusion, his brow furrowed. His throat was dry and his voice raspy as he asked, “What?”

The man’s face fell, his eyes full of pain.

“I’m sorry,” he said, rising to his feet. “I’ve got to go.”

He left just as Melissa stepped into the room.

“Hey,” she said softly, a sweet smile lighting up her kind face. “Good to see you awake. You gave us a scare.”

“What?” Stiles muttered.

“You woke up yesterday and walked right out the front door,” Melissa told him. “I want to lecture you, but I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“Woke up?” Stiles repeated.

“You don’t remember what happened?” she asked, sitting down on the edge of his bed.

Stiles shook his head.

“You’ve been in a coma for three months,” she told him. “A really bad storm hit Beacon Hills and you were driving to the station to take your dad his dinner when you lost control of the Jeep. You were in a really bad shape when paramedics brought you in, but you’re going to be okay.”

“Who was that guy who was just in here?” Stiles asked.

“His name’s Derek,” she answered. “He found you unconscious out by the preserve and brought you here.”

“Derek,” Stiles uttered, his brow furrowed with confusion as he felt a wave of déjà vu creep into his mind. He let the name sit on his lips as he thought it over, trying to remember something that was just out of his reach. “Derek.”

  A few days later, he stood in the middle of the woods, standing among the yellowing leaves and towering pine trees, his hands buried in the pockets of his bright red hoodie.

He heard the man’s footsteps among the undergrowth, the dry husks of leaves crackling beneath the soles of his mud-clad boots.

“This is—”

“Private property,” Stiles finished, turning to look at Derek. “I know.”

Derek’s pace slowed to a halt as he looked at the young man. His pale eyes were filled with hope and fear, his voice quiet as he asked, “Are you you, or are you—?"

“I remember you,” Stiles said. “I remember how I know you. Eight years ago, my mum died; the same day your house burnt down. My dad was on duty and you sat with me in the hospital.”

Derek said nothing.

“A week later, I ran away from home, but I got turned around in the woods,” Stiles continued. “They sent out a search party, but you were the one who found me.” He looked around at the towering trees and colourful leaves. “You found me here.”

Derek didn’t say anything, just stared at Stiles blankly.

Stiles swallowed hard. “Look, I get it if you don’t remember me, I just—”

“Mieczyslaw?” Derek asked quietly.

“God, I hate that name,” Stiles muttered. He held a hand out. “I’m Stiles.”

“Nice to meet you, Stiles,” Derek said, reaching out to shake Stiles’ hand. “The real you.”

[AO3]

[iztarshi]

Jäger Gems

construct/clank/machine

For anyone wondering what Jägers are in the Steven Universe crossover :)

*

Peridot scowls at the planet she’s surveying while she waits for her wrist unit to give her the readout on a pebble. It’s quite a pretty planet, really, especially for somewhere that barely qualifies as a planet rather than a planetoid, with its skin of fragile blue plant life interrupted by outcroppings of pink crystal. There’s something bothering her though. Gemsense is always a bit unreliable, but she can’t help feeling there’s someone here that shouldn’t be. That she’s being watched.

“Zee?” she calls. “Do you feel…”

Aventurine Cut 9XZ-A looks around from where she’s crouched on an outcrop and puts a finger to her lips. Oh. Well, of course she’d know. Zee is small for a Quartz, still tall and muscular but slender rather than bulky, and the reason is obvious to even a Peridot that never qualified for Kindergarten training. The gem on the back of her hand that should have been a septagon surrounded by seven facets in a circle is cracked right across, leaving slightly more than half a circle. A break during development that she carried on growing after. She’s unmistakably an Aventurine, though, with her green-bronze skin and long sweep of green hair. She has all the abilities of a normal Quartz, too.

Whereas Peridot is unusually well formed for an Era 2 Peridot, doesn’t even need limb enhancers, but all her flaws are internal. Like a lack of focus that has her relegated to surveying planets, a function mostly performed by her wrist computer.

Zee slips from the outcropping and walks over to stand idly next to her. As the computer starts to beep she says, under cover of its noises, “Four Gems. They’ve been watching us, but I can’t see them.”

Peridot shivers. Gems shouldn’t be a threat but out here, on the edge of the Empire, with the Diamonds focused inwards by the resource crisis, things can happen. The Heterodynes are the most famous ones to splinter off, decide to find and keep their own life-bearing planets, but they’re not the only ones. “Are they after the planet?”

“I don’t know. How close are you to done?”

“I want a sample of one of those crystals, then we can get back to the Roaming Eye.”

“Okay. Want me to grab you a bit?”

“Please.”

Zee casually breaks the tip of a crystal and tosses it to Peridot, who feeds it into the computer as soon as the pebble is done. Zee is still looking around, trying to be casual, but her hands are clenched as if she’s about to summon her swords into them. “Come on,” she says. “We can walk back while it does that.”

They’ve nearly reached the green-gold Roaming Eye when someone bellows. “Stop!” The next moment a Gem launches herself over their heads and lands, posing, in front of it. She’s obviously a Quartz, with short white hair, pale blue skin, and a clashing yellow top. There’s a thin red visor — one that looks quite different from Peridot’s yellow vision optimiser — over her eyes. “I am Milky Quartz, Gem Adventurer, and I will defend this planet!” she announces.

“Um. Why?” asks Peridot.

Milky Quartz turns and gestures to the planet as a whole, revealing the cloudy white gem embedded in the back of her head. “All life has a right to live! Gems are merely parasites.”

“Nothing lives here except plants,” says Peridot, checking her readouts. “And possibly a few insects. We’d die out if we never made new Gems anywhere.”

“Then we should die out!” Milky Quartz announces fervently.

Peridot glances at Zee, who shrugs. “Look,” Peridot tries. “We’re not building a Kindergarten right now. Can we go?”

“I am sorry,” says Milky Quartz, she rubs at the back of her head as if embarrassed, but pulls her hand away holding a short spear. “I cannot let you take back the information you hold.”

Zee spins forwards, forcing Milky Quartz to jump back, and comes up holding her swords. She catches the spear between the double blades of one and twists it out of Milky Quartz’s grasp. Milky Quartz summons another and jabs it towards her gem, only to be parried. They’re intent on one another, teeth bared, and Peridot feels useless. She sidles forward, hoping to get to the ship and its guns, only for Milky Quartz to suddenly break away from Zee and whirl, knocking her down and aiming a spear at the gem at her throat.

Zee is already running towards her when something jumps over her. An animal? It lands on Milky Quartz and turns to look back at her. It’s a Gem. She thinks. Pale yellow and muscular, a mane of yellow hair running down her back and ending in a fluffy tail that is actually wagging. Her feet are outsize, two toed paws, there’s a single horn curling from the side of her head — ridiculously with a tiny fez perched next to it — and her mouth is a horrifying, jagged gash.

Whatever she is, Milky Quartz throws her off the next moment, only for two more to sail over Peridot, landing around Milky Quartz in a rough circle. One of them is green, bulky like the first, a black mane ending around her shoulders. Two short horns, or possibly ears, stick out to either side of a plumed hat. Her mouth is the same jagged mess and above it her gem is plainly visible, an ovoid forming a bulbous nose.

The third is different. Still awful — what are these things? — but different. Her body is long and slinky, as if someone’s added too many ribs, face narrow and pointed. Long sleek hair and a cape cover most of the details, but while one of her hands holds a sword, the other is nothing but a long, scythe-like claw. She’s a light purple, a deeper purple gem at her chest.

Zee’s hand closes on Peridot’s wrist unexpectedly and Peridot yelps. “We’ve got to get out of here,” Zee says, yanking her to her feet.

“What… what are they?” Peridot asks, stumbling after her.

The purple one hears her, turns and tips her broad-brimmed hat. “We is Jägers.”

Milky Quartz aims a spear at her and she turns back to parry it with a snarl.

“Corrupted Gems. The Heterodynes use… used them,” says Zee. “Come on.”

“Wait, don’t go!” The yellow one turns, Peridot can see the gem gleaming at her stomach now, and Milky Quartz takes advantage of the distraction to knock her down and throw herself at Agatha. The green one catches Milky Quartz’s foot, making her sprawl full length in front of Peridot. Zee puts a sword through her back and they watch the small explosion of light before the white gem falls to the floor.

“Now let’s go before she comes back,” says Zee.

The Jägers are staring at her, Peridot realises, with an unnerving intensity. She wonders whether they’ll pounce if she tries to back away. “Um,” she says. “It was… nice meeting you? Thank you for the help.”

They grin at her, and then the green one says, "She's right, let's go. We taking our ship or yours?"

There was a very puzzling assumption embedded there. "Is there some reason we shouldn't each go in our own ships?"

The Jägers look at one another.

"We need to talk," says the purple one.

"Yah, we don't know where you're going," says the yellow one. "And do you know the way to the Star’s Ship?"

"I don't even know what that is," Peridot says. "Why do we need to talk?"

"Peridot," Zee says uneasily.

"--Is it about why you helped us?"

"You don't know you is a Heterodyne?" the yellow one says, sounding dismayed. She rubs at her horn, which looks longer and sharper than it did a moment ago.

"Okay," the green one says. "We really need to talk."

They do. They very much do.

"Come on board, then," she says. Zee looks at her like she's lost her mind, which would normally make her rethink, but Zee didn't know she's a Heterodyne. Peridot never told her. Has, in fact, been trying not to think about it. Just to do her work, what of it she could manage. But she does remember...

She remembers that she was a disappointment to Moonstone, not too distracted but too wilful, and for that she's not sorry.

They follow her, almost bouncing around her as they head to the ship. Peridot waits until they're in orbit to start talking, she'd really rather not see Milky Quartz again if only to spare herself the irritation, but she doesn't actually know where they're going. She closes her eyes for a moment, trying to focus, surprised when she can.

"Okay," she says. "First, who are you?"

"Curl," says the yellow one, waving a hand at her horn.

"Scratch," says the green one.

"Silk," says the purple one, doffing her hat. "At you service."

"But that's not... well, it's something to call you, but what are your names?"

"We is Jägers," Silk says, replacing her hat with an offended air. "And that's all we is."

That's disconcerting. Peridot thinks they might be Quartzes, at least Curl and Scratch, but not knowing she doesn't know what to expect from them. Maybe she should just consider Jägers as a new Gem type for now.

"And I'm a Heterodyne," she says. "Which I... kind of knew."

"But you didn't know to come home?" Curl asks.

"I got kidnapped while I was incubating, I think," Peridot says, "and then rescued. And told to hide. And somebody mentioned I was a Heterodyne Gem along the way but that's about it." She grimaces and looks sideways. "Sorry, Zee."

Zee frowns but waves a hand dismissively. "I can see why you wouldn't want that on your record."

"I figured as long as I did the best job I could, it didn't matter very much." Peridot looks from Zee back to the Jägers. "It looks like it might after all."

"We kind of need you," admits Scratch, almost sheepish.

"Any Peridot can do you work here," Silk adds. "But we need a Heterodyne. The Star’s Ship is broken and less of the Jägers can protect it."

"Is bad for everyone," says Curl. "There are Gems there, not Jägers, always trying to fix things, losing power. And..." She looks up, eyes wet and golden, so needy it almost looks like innocence. "We miss you."

It’s strangely nice, if also a little worrying. Peridot’s sure no one should rely so much on her but it’s really nice to have someone disagree with that for once. Everyone contributes to the Empire, but a lot of the time it feels more like she’s been shuffled off to the edges so they won’t notice she isn’t. Probably contributing to a weird pirate cult shouldn’t be such an enticing alternative, however much more she has to offer. She ruffles Curl’s hair, careful not to tangle her fingers in what she can feel is Quartz hair, sharp and strong, but soft if you rub it the right way. Curl sniffles and smiles.

“I’ll come,” Peridot says. “We have to take Zee back to her squad first, though.”

"Oh no you don't," Zee says.

"Um," says Peridot.

"I'm assigned to you."

"Yes," says Peridot doubtfully. "But I'm assigned to survey planets."

"That's not my problem," Zee says.

"That's the spirit," says Scratch.

Peridot runs a hand through her hair and doesn't know whether to be really relieved to have Zee along or really worried about the trouble she's likely to get into for it. "Okay," she says. She looks around at the Jägers. "Which one of you can drive?"

It turns out to be Scratch, who pauses to admire their ship before deftly programming in the course and preferred reality drive settings. Peridot watches while she does the course, she’d like to know where she is when she gets there in case she needs to leave. Screwing up her eyes she does her best to commit it to memory and the lack of effort once again leaves her feeling odd. Good, but like she just picked up something heavy and it turned out to be light. It’s starting to feel like more than just having a good day.

Scratch takes them up more gently than Peridot would have given her credit for, the delicate pink and blue planet fading away below them. She does jolt them engaging the reality drive and Peridot turns to look at her, then stops, mouth open. There’s a Quartz sitting there, almost certainly a Prasiolite, a little bit of a rough-cut character but without claws or fur. Peridot whirls to where Curl and Silk are poking around the ship. There’s a Citrine with big, honey coloured eyes, that look ridiculously adorable now she’s not distracted by the teeth. Silk is leaning against a console, flexing the hand that used to be a scythe, hair still long but no longer covering most of the red and purple outfit she’s wearing. She smiles at Peridot, the gem on her chest flashing from red-purple to blue as she does, and Peridot closes her mouth with a click. Oh, stars, Silk is a Tanzanite.

Peridot doesn't actually notice she's said "Eep" until Silk looks worried. "Problem?"

"Sorry, I -- Sorry! Didn't realise you were in charge of this... mission?"

"I'm not!" Silk looks confused and almost alarmed, while Curl is snickering behind her.

"But you're--" Peridot stops herself from contradicting. "Okay. Why not?"

Silk shrugs. "Scratch is older."

"And a lot smarter!" chimes in Curl.

Okay, seniority is certainly a factor, as is experience, but--!

Silk shoots Curl a dirty look. "Anyways," she says, "you's leading it now."

"Me!" Peridot squeaks. "You're a Tanzanite!"

Tanzanite touches her gem reflexively, then folds her arms over it with a growl that reminds Peridot the reality drive has only changed the shape of these creatures. "I is a Jäger."

Peridot mostly stops herself from flinching and makes herself think. She can do analysis, practiced slowly and carefully until she could work through things without practically knocking herself out thinking about how to think, and today (part of today) she isn't going wobbly every time she concentrates too hard. A Tanzanite was supposed to lead things -- lead campaigns -- but this one said she wasn't. "Well, you certainly can't mean I'm leading it because of seniority," she says. "I take it... Heterodynes and Jägers... do things differently."

"We is sworn." Silk is still looking unhappy, not meeting Peridot's eyes, but she talks like she's taking care with her words. "Is not like being made for a Diamond. We swore to serve and the Heterodynes re-made us to serve them. Whatever we is before we is Jägers after."

Peridot bites her lip and thinks of when they first showed up. The shapes. The teeth. The Heterodynes do that to them. "--Why?"

"We fight better," says Curl. "We is stronger, faster. Scarier."

"And we is theirs," says Scratch, leaning over the back of the chair to join in. "Anyone can swear. Is mostly Quartzes. We likes a fight. But some like Silk, or sometimes Pearls. Anyone."

"They need us," says Silk. "Heterodynes is strange Gems, yah, stranger than us. You is made like an instrument, special shapes on the inside? You resonate. Lots of power, but you need something that can take it."

"And that's us!" Curl finishes, with a big grin that's pretty scary even on a normal looking Quartz.

She is stranger than them?! But something inside her sings yes. Special shapes, special power, that might explain Moonstone stealing her, might explain Ruby melting everything before she shattered. Resonance that somehow needs Jägers to operate properly might explain why her thoughts seem so much better focused now and her body feels sharper and stronger. Once, after a really bad few days, a jury-rigged diagnostic suggested she was somehow interfering with her own form. She had shied away from requesting leave to disperse and regenerate herself. "I don't suppose," Peridot says a little plaintively, "there's a technical précis I can look over at the Star’s Ship?"

"Ho, yes!" says Scratch. “Is a whole library."

"Oh good," says Peridot, feeling suddenly much more sure of herself. Documentation!

[xensilverquill]

Count the Ways

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: M/M Fandoms: Transformers - All Media Types; The Transformers (IDW Generation One) Relationship: Cyclonus/Tailgate Characters: Tailgate (Transformers), Cyclonus (Transformers) Additional Tags: Transformers Spark Bonds, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Marriage, Conjunx Endura, Conjux Ritus, Body Paint, Body Worship, Size Difference, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Bathing/Washing

Summary: "Enough." Again, the other mech seemed to read his mind, both Cyclonus' firm tone and servo sliding into his own silencing the doubtful whispers in his mind. The warrior tugged gently at him. "If I am not allowed to fret, then neither are you. I wish for this as surely as you do. I desire no other but you, Tailgate." Silence spread between them for a long moment before the smaller mech's helm fell forward. In-venting shakily, he willed his spark to stop spinning so fast in his chest. He laced his digits through Cyclonus' own, squeezing lightly. "All right," he replied simply as he stepped over the stones and into the circle proper.

[A union long overdue -- the conjux rites of Cyclonus and Tailgate. Set post-Lost Light/Lost Light #18.]

"You are certain you want this? If even some iota of doubt lingers in your spark, I would not force something of this magnitude upon—"

"Primus help me— The only thing that's going to give me any doubt is you constantly trying to talk me out of this."

The scolding in the minibot's tone was softened by the playful dancing of his field against Cyclonus' own. Hopping on the berth, he was quick to take the old warrior's helm between his servos. Any rebuttal he might have been formulating was lost to the aether as Tailgate lightly pressed his mouthguard against the other's lips. Cyclonus' frame, going stiff for a moment, relaxed minutely as he leaned into the motion. When Tailgate eventually pulled away, his white arms remained looped around the other's neck.

"I wouldn't be here and doing this if I didn't want to be. I want this, Cyclonus — I want you . End of discussion. Now—" If he had optic ridges, they would have been waggling quite rakishly. "—are you going to paint me like one of your Praxian mechs or no— Ow! Hey!"

His attempt at bringing a bit of levity to the moment was not appreciated in the least. The purple mech was quick to flick him in the helm for his troubles, optics narrowing slightly even as a smile twitched at his lips.

"None of that now," Cyclonus rumbled. Ex-venting slowly, he stepped away from the berth and flicked a clawed digit at the other. "Sit. I will call for you when I am prepared."

The minibot huffed lightly as he rested his helm on his servo, but otherwise he did as he was told. Chagrin and impatience soon turned to curiosity as he watched the other go to work.

The first order of business was setting up the proper space for the affair. In the privacy of their habsuite, there were no distractions for them, save each other and any poor spark who might have been foolish enough to interrupt them.  

First Cyclonus went about cleansing the air. In transparisteel containers about the room, he placed joss sticks cut from crystal trees and soaked in sweet-oil. The fragrance and smoke of the incense drifted through the room like a sigh, soothing down to spark and protoflesh alike. It reminded the minibot of a scene out of an old holovid of the temples of the Primal Basilica before the war: acolytes led by priests in the holy rites, light and psalms alike fluttering up to the vaulted ceilings above.

Next the warrior began scattering half a dozen different crystals and tumbled stones upon the floor. Or so Tailgate thought until he realized the other was carefully placing them in an intricate pattern.

"Precious stones, in prayer and supplication to Primus," Cyclonus explained, sensing his questions before they were even spoken aloud. "Sodium for protection against evil. Obsidian to banish ill fortune. Quartz for clarity of mind." He arranged the crystals into the outline of a circle, forming rectangular patterns on the border. "Citrine to hold fast to the present. Aventurine to bless the future.  Amazonite to establish and strengthen ties of affection."

When he had finished, he placed still more incense on the edge of the arrangement. Then, dimming the overhead lights, the horned mech at last stood and faced him again. He extended a clawed servo towards Tailgate. Those red optics burned soft and warm as a brazier in the smoky twilight of the room, full of affection the warrior still struggled to give voice.

The minibot's plating ruffled and flared as he slipped off the berth and stepped forward. In spite of his brave words earlier, his field was still prickly with nerves. Cyclonus had talked him through the rites a dozen times already, and there was no one else in any other reality or timeline with whom he would ever want to tie himself. Yet, despite that, the little voices still nipped at the edge of his processor, insisting that he was in no way worthy of this—

"Enough." Again, the other mech seemed to read his mind, both Cyclonus' firm tone and servo sliding into his own silencing the doubtful whispers in his mind. The warrior tugged gently at him. "If I am not allowed to fret, then neither are you. I wish for this as surely as you do. I desire no other but you , Tailgate."

Silence spread between them for a long moment before the smaller mech's helm fell forward. In-venting shakily, he willed his spark to stop spinning so fast in his chest. He laced his digits through Cyclonus' own, squeezing lightly.

"All right," he replied simply as he stepped over the stones and into the circle proper.

The two of them knelt across from each other, the ring of crystals just large enough to hold them both comfortably. Producing several small canisters from his subspace, Cyclonus opened each in turn. Each was revealed to have powder, each of a bright and distinct color. The warrior reached within in his subspace again, this time pulling out a bottle of solvent. A splash of it in each of the canisters before he set to work mixing each to a paint-like consistency.

"Cyclonus?" the minibot spoke up again as he watched the other work.

"Hm?"

"Have you—" He nodded vaguely at the crystals and the incense and the paints. "—done this before?"

"Hardly," he chuffed, a slight smirk pulling at the edge of Cyclonus' lips, as if he found some amusement from the question. "Do I strike you as the sort to take another mech through the Conjunx Ritus on a whim?"

"N-no, but... It just seems like—"

"In my youth," the warrior cut in, "I was witness to the rites of a few of my fellows in the Clavis Aurea. Such ceremonies were far more commonplace in those days." After he finished mixing the solvent and powders, he carefully cleaned his claws on a meshcloth.

"It was once a custom in much of Upper Tetrahex to mark one's intended in such a way. Dating back to the days of the Golden Age, when it is said that all Cybertronians once looked the same. The marking would separate one’s conjux-to-be from the others. Every color, every pattern — every detail, however small, speaks of the qualities the one finds admirable in the other, as well their wishes for their union."

Cyclonus took hold of Tailgate's servos once more and pulled him up to stand on his pedes. Silence spread between them. They remained that way for a few moments: the warrior kneeling before his intended, the minibot leaning slightly forward with his digits stroking lightly across those ancient and scarred palms.

Not for the first time, Tailgate mourned his lack of a proper mouth, that he could not map the rough yet warm metal with his lips. All the same he brought one of the mech's servos up to his face. Ex-venting softly across the silver plating and offlining his optics, he rubbed his mouthguard against the warrior's palm. He swore he felt a fission of thrill race through the other' ever-controlled field, a little zing! that wiggled under his plating and straight to his spark.

"... I invoke the gifts of the Guiding Hand," Cyclonus began, "so that I might be worthy of the one I will call my own."

He first dipped a claw in the indigo paint. Meanwhile his other servo came up to brace Tailgate's leg, as carefully and reverently as if the other might break at the lightest touch. Bending his helm, he traced a careful and precise path beginning at the tip of the white pede. Delicate, winding patterns and ancient glyphs that the minibot could not decipher — Cyclonus painted these with all the care of a master at his craft. And as he marked the his intended, he spoke.

"I call upon Mortilus, Death-Bringer, to grant me strength. Strength of frame — that I might always walk by your side and protect you with all that I am. Strength of spark — that my affection may never falter. I devote myself to you wholly, and to no other."

One leg he marked, and then the other, from pede-tip to flared plating of his outer thigh. Tailgate watched in silence, marvel at the intricacy of the patterns all but stilling his venting cycles. And not once did those sharp, expert claws scrape or scratch at his plating.

— a volley of shot firing plasma lasers piercing metal energon and death in the air but not his own "Goodbye, little one." no Cyclonus no no Primus no don't leave you can't leave —

"No matter what distance or time passes between us," the minibot replied, reciting the vows the other had taught him, "no matter what designs of the gods might keep you from home, always I will wait for you, patient and faithful. I devote myself to you wholly, and to no other."

Cleaning his claws as he had before, Cyclonus reached for the scarlet this time. He continued his path up the minibot's frame. The fiery hue shone with a glory of its own against the blue of his slim hips. Strong servos turned him around when the warrior had finished there, continuing up the plating over his spinal strut.

"I call upon Solomus, Wisdom Incarnate, to teach me faith. Faith in myself — that the strength of my convictions may never fade. Faith in you — that I might never doubt you in the face of adversity and darkness. I will never betray you in our intimacy, and put my utmost trust in you in turn."

Now and then Tailgate would feel the buffeting of the other's ex-vents against his back to tickle at his protoform. It took considerable effort not to ruffle his plating at the sensation, and his voxcoder clicked a time or two before he trusted himself to speak.

— they walk the edge between life and death the land of the divine the Afterspark home "Why take that—? Because you, Cyclonus! Pretty much the answer to everything is you." together again don't let go —

"Never will I doubt you," he breathed, "and never will I lose faith in us. No matter what trials we face together or what misunderstandings come between us, I will always choose to believe the best in you. I will never betray you in our intimacy, and put my utmost trust in you turn."

When he was turned back around, the warrior did not immediately set himself to the next task. Rather he allowed himself to bend forward until his temple was pressed against Tailgate's abdomen. His flight engines purred lightly, even more so as the minibot took advantage of the opportunity to stroke at his crest and horns. It was a klik or two later before he finally pulled away, taking the lavender paint in hand.

"I call upon Epistemus, Knowledge Personified, to inspire me to learn. To learn every facet of you, to know you through all your triumphs and tragedies. To learn of all the virtues and sins that have forged and tempered your spirit, to see the beauty that lies therein. I open myself to you likewise, and there shall be no secret of mine left to disclose."

— the bar on Hedonia his nerves and mask go with the high grade he's a nobody he's a nobody oh Primus he's going to be found out "I sing because I miss Cybertron. It helps." maybe he's not alone —

More shivers passed through the minibot's frame as Cyclonus' claws passed up his belly. Designs were etched carefully around his vents. Every inch of his torso was painted, save for the plating over his spark chamber. Tilt his helm back so that he other might have easier access to the plating and cabling of his neck, he offlined his optics as he spoke his next line in turn.

"May each new day bring a new lesson, a new story of you. I take you as you are, for all the light and darkness in you. I vow to spend the rest of my life learning every inch of your frame, of your spark. I open myself to you likewise, and there shall be no secret of mine left to disclose."

Teal was the next color to grace his frame. Cyclonus' servo trailed up his arm, claws lingering a moment to dip beneath his wrist plating and stroke at cabling and protoflesh. The little squeak that pulled from Tailgate's voxcoder inspired a chuckle from him. He nuzzled at the minibot's crest this time as he took hold of the smaller mech's elbow. From the arch of his shoulder armor to the tips of his servos he painted, the teal as bright and vibrant as the sky the smaller mech had witnessed on the day of his forging.

"I call upon Adaptus, He Who Is Blessed with an Infinity of Shapes, to move me to change. To change, to never become complacent and take for granted the blessings I have been given. To change for the sake of you who inspires the best in me, to rise above my fears and misgivings to be the mech you deserve. All that I was, all that I am, all that I shall become — I proffer myself to you, freely and willingly."

— he can't let Cyclonus die for him not again "I don't want you to leave me." he's going to have him this time "But Cyberutopia..." even if it kills him "... is nothing without you." —

Oh, slag it all, but how he wanted to simply wrap himself in the warrior's embrace at that moment. Were it not for the paint still drying on his frame, Tailgate might have done just that, the solemnity of the rites be damned!

— "I knew you'd find me." —

"To change is the birthright of all born of our Creator. Transformation, adaptation, compromise — there can be no lasting peace or love without them. So, if we must change, we will do so together. All that I was, all that I am, all that I shall become — I proffer myself to you, freely and willingly."

For just a nanoklik, the minibot swore he saw a shimmer in Cyclonus' optics. Was the old and hardened warrior about to—? No, he could not possibly be—

— "New deal. Never again. No separation, no goodbyes. Never again." —

Before he could manage more than a glance of his intended's face, however, the mech had already looked away to take the fifth and last canister — a color of sunlight, rosy and golden as the dawn. Ever so slowly he painted over the smaller's mech's face and helm. Only his chest plating was left bared when Cyclonus finished his work at last.

"And at the last, I call upon Primus, Giver of Light and Life, to light my path and bind me eternally to these vows. Tailgate of Rivets Field..."

Taking his wrist, Cyclonus pressed the minibot's servo flat upon his chest plating. The warrior held it fast there with his own servo laying over his, thumb feathering over the white plating. Tailgate could feel the pulsing-spin of his ancient spark beneath, alive and well. When their optics met again, all of Tailgate's breath left him in a rush. Not since the Benzene Cluster had he seen that look: that spark-breaking mess of vulnerability and fear and hope he had hoped never to be the cause of again.

— "Shut up. Shut up and let me say this while you're still around to hear it. Because I don't care: real, fake, alive, dead... I love you." —

"... will you take me as your conjunx endura?"

Though there was a stinging in own optics, there was no hesitation in the minibot now as he mirrored Cyclonus. The other's servo was large enough to nearly engulf his chassis, and Tailgate's spark fairly thrummed beneath it.

"I will," he answered, strong and clear and more sure of anything than he had ever been in his life, "if you'll take me as yours."

"I will," the warrior breathed in turn. He lifted Tailgate's servo and butted his helm lightly against it. Then he pressed a proper kiss there, fangs scraping and catching at plating and delicate circuitry. "I will. I will..."

All of a sudden he lifted the minibot in his arms. His helm bent so that he could bury his face at the juncture of Tailgate's neck and shoulder. Whispers of praise and love were left there as Cyclonus' long strides made short the distance to the washrack, Tailgate answering with his own soft sighs and wandering digits over the back of his conjunx's — his conjunx, his conjunx! — helm.

Those clawed servos, so careful and worshipful in their caresses, left him only to set a hot solvent running from the showerhead. The larger mech guided them both under the stream, shifting now and then to help clean the other. A light hiss escaped Tailgate at the heat of it though he knew it was necessary to seal in the colors and designs the warrior had so lovingly marked upon him. Cyclonus soothed away the slight pain with a kiss against his cheek, stroking down his shoulders and back.

Steam gathered on his visor and obscured his vision, and yet still he could see the rivulets as the excess pigment was washed away. He was reminded of the colorful mixed drinks Swerve would whip up from time to time. For a few brief moments a liquid rainbow flowed over his white plating. What was left behind had him speechless, and when he glanced up he saw that same awe shared in Cyclonus' face.

Elegant lines covered him from helm to pede. Colors that would only grow more vibrant in the cycles to come stood out starkly from his blue-and-white plating. Every vow they had made to one another was embodied in every glyph, every pattern, every inch of Tailgate's frame — a living display of the bonds now solidified between them.

Well, almost solidified.

A few kliks later, Cyclonus took his time in toweling him down. Now and then he would stop to let his claws and gaze linger over a spot on the minibot's frame. As if he were imprinting the image on his processor, as if he were afraid he would wake up to find all of this a dream. Yet Tailgate reassured him at every turn, stroking and nuzzling every part of his conjunx that he could reach.

"I'm here," he murmured as he pressed himself against the other's front. "I'm right here."

This time Tailgate took the lead. Tugging on the warrior, he guided them both towards the berth. Lying back, Cyclonus took the minibot with him, arms wrapped so tight around the smaller frame. White servos came up to cradle either side of the other's helm, thumbs trailing around the edges of the gaps in the warrior's cheeks. Both shuddered, their fields begin to entangle as their frames already had.

Tailgate stroked coaxingly over the seams of the other's chest plating, and a moment later they parted to reveal the bright crimson of his lover's spark. He wasted no time in baring his own blue one. A light moan escaped him as their coronae met, their light filling the gloom where the glow of incense had long faded.

"I love you," the warrior whispered, optics as bright as his spark lifting his helm so that their temples touched. "I love you."

"Oh, Cyclonus," he breathed, pulling a husky cry from the other as he finally pushed their chests together. "I love you, too..."

And, at long last, they were one.

[mccotterkayvin]

Reiki Healing Milpitas Marvelous Unique Ideas

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Shamanic Reiki Symbol

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