#but until I can find a gem that can be purple or red and isn’t already something in su then they remain in my files

[my-rights-are-grian-rights]

the parrot prince, yellow diamond!!

gemcyt by @chrisrin, yellow diamond stampy by @ingapotejtoo :D

listen listen please

do you see my vision here guys it took all of my willpower to not give him birds and i had an idea that would be so good but alas I am not up to the task of designing all of stampy’s helpers as gems but it would be sooo goofy if yellow diamond stampy held all his helpers and they sat on him like his minecraft story mode parrots i would die from joy if it was real

also yellow pearl sqaishey. you agree. they are married and yellow and bird already all that needs to happen is a duck to human conversion !!!

ALSO PLEASE PLEASE I KNOW YELLOW DIAMOND HAS DARK SHOES BUT HE HAS HIS BOOTS PLEAS PLEASE THE BOOTS THEY’RE IRON BOOTS IT’S AS CLOSE AS I COULD GET WITHOUT IT LOOKING TOO SILLY

[dango-milk]

ivy (thoma’s version)

My pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand; taking mine, but it’s been promised to another.

an ode to heartbreak masterlist: (x)

word count: 7254 (the longest of my works to date!)

genre: angst, smut

pairings: thoma x fem!reader, yan!raiden shogun x fem!reader

warnings: NSFW (minors pls block the #nsfw-dango tag!), mentions of blood, toxic relationships, yandere, spoilers for the inazuma archon quest (2.0 only)

additional notes: three cheers for thoma finally becoming a playable character! it took me until the end of the 2.0 archon quest to fully warm up to him, but since then I have been wanting to shove my face into his chest and let his beautiful pecs suffocate me. this story was born from that desire. consume and enjoy :) (p.s. no 2.1 spoilers, please!)

this also contains a reference to a very famous (eerie) story. can you guess what it is?

want to be tagged when future oth works come out? click here!

To some in Inazuma, the rolling grey clouds and the smell of petrichor were indicative of the Raiden Shogun’s power and might. Some took it even further, saying that it was a sign of her displeasure, warning others not to disturb the peace that she had so carefully crafted in the nation.

If it was the latter, Thoma wouldn’t mind provoking the Electro Archon on the daily—as long as it meant he could see you.

If anyone were to count the number of times a bolt of lightning struck, in the same spot, mere inches away from the Kamisato Estate, it would raise questions. But the act of looking the other way had been turned into an art form by the people of Inazuma, and for once, for that he was immensely grateful.

Otherwise, he wouldn’t have the opportunity to gaze over your naked form, illuminated only when a streak of lightning tears through the sky. The beads of sweat on your chest had long dried; the only proof that he’d been with you was the slick between your thighs.

He could stay like this forever, he thinks, tracing shapes across your bare back, occasionally replacing his fingers with his lips as you both listen to the symphony of rain and thunder play outside.

Though he wants nothing more than to fall asleep like this—and to wake up with you still by his side in the morning—you wouldn’t stay that long. You couldn’t.

So, he keeps his eyes open.

“You could tell her that I proposed,” he offers.

You crack an eyelid open, peering over at him curiously before snorting quietly.

“I’m serious. “Chief Retainer of the Kamisato Clan” isn’t a title to scoff at, you know. Consider it a mark of friendship from the Yashiro Commission to the Almighty Shogun.”

He says the last two words in a mocking tone, which you giggle at. Thoma pulls your shoulder until you roll onto your back, so he could devour your smile (the one that he never passes up the opportunity to see) with his lips. He shamelessly moans in your mouth when you return the kiss with a passion that rivals the power of his own Vision, your fingers finding their home in his blonde locks.

When he pulls away, his eyes move from your swollen lips and trail down the graceful slope of your neck. They stop and narrow at the sight of the purple gem, nestled gently in the hollow of your throat, pinned to a red ribbon wrapped around your neck.

Despite being a firm advocate against the Vision Hunt Decree, he abhors the one you had been given. It was nothing but a reminder of who you belonged to, and the choker even matches the one on the figure you had been sworn forever to serve. He’s tried multiple times in vain to rip it off you, but the seemingly flimsy ribbon was stronger than it looked. Though he wants nothing more than to see it off you (occasionally replaced by his own hand), he has an uneasy feeling that that scenario was not something he would want to see.

So he lets all feelings of rage, resentment, and longing simmer in his gut—waiting for the blessed day that he can let all of them out.

Thoma is pulled out of his thoughts by your hand finding its way onto his face. You smile at him gently, rubbing your thumb across his cheek, and his heart lurches; he presses his lips to your palm in response.

“She would never agree to that,” you whisper regretfully, and Thoma groans quietly before nestling his head in the crook of your neck.

“How would you know?”

You kiss the top of his head, and his brain short-circuits. “Because I know her. Better than anyone else.”

Thoma’s brow furrows at your words. He stares at the skin of your neck, and he’s seized by the sudden urge to mark you as his. Though he already has—multiple times in the past, and tonight was no exception—he wants nothing more than to cover your throat, jaw, collarbones, everything, in shades of purple darker than your Vision. That was the way, he thinks, to prove to everyone who you really belonged to, that his lips were engraved in you deeper than whatever the Shogun gives you.

He wants you to be his. Wholly, truly his, and he wants the whole of Teyvat to know it. He wants your body on his every second of every day, wants your heart in his hands, wants your smile all to himself. He wants to fill you to the brim, until every single cell in your body is singing his praises; wants to breathe in your scent until he’s choking on your essence.

He wants nothing else, no one else. One look in your eyes, and he knows you feel the same.

“Then we’ll run.”

You hum questioningly.

Thoma lifts his head and props it on his hand. “We’ll run away, then we can be together.”

You smile. “Alright,” you say, clearly humoring him. “Where would we go?”

“Mmm, anywhere. We could go to Fontaine, or to Liyue...” He traces your skin as he talks, brushing over a nipple and smirking as your breath stutters. “Ah, I know. Mondstadt.”

“Why Mondstadt?”

“For starters, it’s the City of Freedom.” He twirls a piece of your hair between his fingers. “It’s where they produce the finest wine—”

“Dandelion Wine, right?”

“Yeah, Dandelion Wine. And you know what the best thing is?”

“What?”

He leans down to brush his nose against yours. “It never rains there.”

“Oh,” you breathe. “Can you imagine?”

“What I’d give to see you in fair weather all the time.”

You pull his face down, and his lips connect with yours again, but it’s feather-light compared to the others he’d shared with you tonight. He finds it the most intoxicating, the most indicative of your true feelings for him, but he doesn’t kid himself. He knows what it means.

You confirm his hunch when you whisper that you have to go.

Thoma groans again and all but starfishes on top of you, keeping you from getting up. You let out a surprised oof as his full weight settles on you, followed by your breathless laughter.

“Thoma.”

“Mm?”

“Can’t breathe.”

“Mm.”

You call his name once more, and he responds by wrapping his arms around you tightly. You sigh and place a hand on his hair, patting down the tousled locks. The touch is strangely comforting to him, and it only fuels him to keep you down.

“Thoma, the storm’s lightening up.”

“I don’t care.”

“I have to go.”

“I don’t want you to.”

His voice almost breaks, and he knows you’ve noticed when he feels your heart race and when you halt your attempts to get him off you; for a second, he thinks he’s finally succeeded at getting you to stay.

“She’s going to wonder where I am.”

So cruel, he thinks. Whether it was directed towards you, for breaking his heart every single night; the Raiden Shogun, for claiming you as her own for her messed-up idea of eternity; or to the world, for cursing him to fall in love with someone he could never have—he still wasn’t sure.

You break his heart, every single time you come to him under a mourning sky. And like the fool that he is, he still lets you in.

Thoma finally rolls off you, and though you attempt to patch his wounded heart by leaving a lingering kiss on his lips, the damage has already been dealt. His eyes rake over you longingly as you slip into the clothes you arrived in, before doing the same with his own. You dress in silence, the magic of the night dissipating along with the same clouds that had brought you to him.

He finishes before you do, and he walks over to help fasten the belt around your waist. He doesn’t miss the opportunity to place gentle kisses on the back of your neck, and revels in the contented sighs that he pulls from you with every touch.

One of your hands slips into his, and the other finds its way back into his hair as your eyes lock with his. He hopes you see it—the love, adoration, and longing—in his eyes, mirroring yours. He presses his forehead against yours and closes his eyes, feeling your breath fan against his lips.

“I love you,” you whisper.

“I love you too,” he replies. “More than you know.”

Thoma gives you one last searing kiss, and regretfully steps back to watch you disappear in a bolt of lightning.

To some in Inazuma, your position as the Raiden Shogun’s Hand was a blessing. You were one of the privileged few to be gifted an Electro Vision during the Vision Hunt Decree. You had access to classified information, contacts with high-profile people, and the ear of the supreme ruler of the Nation of Eternity.

To you, it was all horseshit.

“Your Excellency,” you murmur in greeting as you slide the door open.

“(Y/N),” the Raiden Shogun responds. “Close the door behind you.”

You oblige, bowing deeply before making your way over to her. She sits at her desk, scrolls upon scrolls taking up the entire table, presumably detailing reports of Vision hunts all over the country. On another table were documents needing her approval—documents that she let you (and nobody else) handle.

“Where were you last night?” the Shogun asks, just as you take your seat in front of your designated pile.

“I took a walk through Nazuchi Beach, my lady,” you say, your practiced lie rolling smoothly off your tongue. “I was looking for some Dendrobiums to adorn your suite.”

“At night?”

“I have been told they bloom best at night, yes.”

The Raiden Shogun clicks her tongue. “I forbid you from going there from now on. The Sangonomiya Resistance frequents that area. If you wish to pick some flowers, have the Shogunate do it for you.”

“Yes, my lady.” You cross out the Nazuchi Beach from your mental list of excuses.

A servant knocks on the door, announcing tea, and you take the liberty of carrying it to the Shogun’s desk. She keeps her eyes on her papers as you work silently and efficiently, the scent of jasmine wafting through the room as you pour the tea into two cups. The Shogun normally took her tea with cream and sugar, but the jasmine smells fresh, and you decide that it was best left alone.

She seems to agree with you, accepting her cup with a wordless nod, the hand lingering longer than normal on yours being the closest thing to “thank you” you would ever hear from her. Sometimes you wonder if the Shogun really does favor you; the Vision was one thing, but her general demeanor was confusing to many—even you. It really was like walking through an open field during a thunderstorm, not knowing when and where lightning will strike.

Fortunately or unfortunately for you, you never have to doubt long. You’ve known the Raiden Shogun for most of your life, ever since your mother had traded you off for the chance to keep her Vision. You remember how the Shogun had given you a quick once-over, before agreeing to take you into her household, and taking your mother’s Vision anyway.

You knew there was something wrong with the Electro Archon within weeks of your stay at her palace. The abrupt switching of moods, the lack of luster in her eyes, the ruthless enforcement of the Vision Hunt Decree...it was enough for anyone to deduce that she clearly had some screws loose (though they daren’t even think it, under pain of death).

Your survival instincts kicked in then, and you immediately molded yourself to the Shogun’s expectations of you. You had always been a rather observant person, and it didn’t take long for you to decide that what she needed the most (at least, what you wanted her to think she needed from you to keep you from getting punted to the ends of the earth), which was someone who could comfort her. Who could serve as her anchor, her tether to this world, while she switched between her delusions of grandeur and the painful truth of reality.

You were right, as you almost always were. The first night that she found you in her bed, offering to let her forget everything for a while, she agreed almost immediately. Soon after, it was always your words she wanted to hear, your arms she craved, your fingers inside her...all to escape from the ghosts of her war-torn past.

What you didn’t expect was her developing something deeper, almost darker, for you. When she started to ban you from going to certain places without her, forcing you to stay in her room while she entertained officials in the palace, and fastening the Vision around your neck, something told you that you had walked into a trap. That you hadn’t been the one controlling her—in some unexpected twist of fate, you had been outsmarted. A fly that managed to evade the web, but flew straight into the spider’s arms.

You belonged to her, and not the other way around.

“Shall I have breakfast brought to you here, my lady?” you ask, once she puts down her cup.

“No,” was her curt response.

You nod quietly, before excusing yourself to walk over the desk and the stack of scrolls awaiting your review. You pick the one on the top, which piques your interest due to the fact that it was sealed, unlike the others. You break it, stopping just at the heading, in case it was for the Shogun’s eyes only.

You hold back a resigned sigh, before rolling it back up and walking back to her. “The details for the 100th Vision Hunt Decree Ceremony, my lady.”

“Oh.” The Shogun purses her lips as she unrolls the scroll fully, and you take advantage of her brief lapse of attention on you to check the name of the next unfortunate soul.

Your breath hitches in your throat, and your body suddenly feels like it’s been dunked in ice-cold water.

“Hmm. Interesting,” the Shogun murmurs, but her voice rings in your ears. You pray you don’t topple over from the sheer horror that had seized your system and rendered you immobile, lest you give her even an inkling of how you were connected to the person written on the paper.

“That’s…” you fight to keep your voice steady, your mind racing at a million miles an hour. “That won’t sit well with the Yashiro Commission.”

“The Yashiro Commission is part of the Tri-Commission. Even though they are not actively involved in the Vision Hunt Decree, they know orders are orders.” She signs the bottom of the scroll, which to you looked more and more like a death warrant.

Before she puts the scroll back onto the pile of finished material, you reach your hand out towards it. The Shogun looks at you questioningly.

“I—we must inform the Yashiro Commission, at least,” you suggest.

“Why?”

“My lady, the Yashiro Commission is looked upon favorably by the people. If you take their...their Chief Retainer’s Vision, that would stir up some trouble.”

The Shogun shrugs. Her nonchalance when it came to opposition had always been frightening to you; her unwavering determination in the pursuit of eternity seemed to trump what others thought of her. “We can send out more of the guards to quell unrest.”

“Unrest that can be taken advantage of by the Resistance,” you reason, trying to keep the desperation out of your voice. “If we could inform the Yashiro Commission ahead of time, they could make it look like...like they agree with you. It would serve as further proof that the Tri-Commission is strong, oriented only towards your vision of eternity.”

The Shogun seems to ponder your words carefully, and you can see in her eyes that she’s beginning to turn. “It could also stop some people from joining the Resistance,” you offer.

She says nothing more in reply, and you take it as an opportunity to press further. "I'll take this to the Yashiro Commission, then. When I come back, I—"

"No."

"...my lady?"

"Have someone else do it." She turns her attention to the next scroll, unfurling it as she talks. "It is unbecoming, having the Raiden Shogun's Hand run around like some servant. You will stay here."

You swallow thickly. Like some well-tuned machine, you shift immediately to your next course of action. It was the best way—tried and tested—for you to get what you want, though it was the method you liked the least.

Ever since the memory of Thoma's hands had seared itself into your skin, branding you as his and his alone.

"As you wish, my lady," you say, setting the scroll aside. "You are very kind to worry about me."

The Shogun hums in response. Your hands drift towards her shoulders, and she jolts slightly when you finally make contact.

"Your shoulders are tense," you tell her, in the closest thing to a lover's whisper you could muster. "You've been up late again."

"Many things require my attention," she quips.

"Nightmares?"

Her writing stops, and you sense the air for any signs of her displeasure. When you find none, you sigh—to you, it was of relief; to her, you know it sounds exasperated.

"I should have been there," you murmur, stooping ever so slightly to level your mouth with her ear, watching as she shivers when your breath dances over her skin. "I shouldn't have left you last night. I'm sorry."

"You...I…"

You say her name, her real name, and she nearly keens in response. But, ever the consummate fighter, she struggles to keep her composure.

"Let me take over today," you urge. "Get some sleep. You know how it pains me to see you suffer."

"I'm quite alright," she huffs, but you see right through her as she picks up her pen shakily.

You press your lips against the side of her neck, a spot that you've discovered after years of practice was a switch of sorts. It takes one kiss to turn the mighty Raiden Shogun into putty in your hands, and it's evident by the way she drops her pen again and shakily raises her hands to thread through your hair.

You close your eyes as you continue your ministrations up and down her neck. It was a simple, handy trick, to distract you from the pain of being in someone else's arms, instead of the ones you craved the most. Though the scent and the taste were different—for a moment, at least—you could pretend it was Thoma.

Thoma…

You were painfully aware that he would eventually face the Vision Decree one of these days. But you hadn't expected it to be now; now, of all days, when all he had been doing was filling your head with visions of the future, your future with him, in lands far away, where it never rains.

Thoma, who had caught your eye on one of the blessed days you were allowed out on your own. Thoma, whose kindred soul shone brighter than what was allowed in Inazuma. Thoma, the only one who had broken through the invisible wall that the Raiden Shogun had built around you, just to see your face.

You couldn't lose him.

You would not lose him.

"My lady," you whisper. In your mind, you were saying his name. "My sweet lady."

You drag one of your hands down from her shoulders to her breasts, pushing the corset down to fondle her already hard nipples, and listening intently to the moans you pull from her.

Your other hand goes down even further.

"Wait," the Shogun says. "Wait, someone could see—ah—"

"Let them see," you whisper, letting your tongue drag across her bare shoulder as your fingers pull up her skirt, and find its way to her soaking cunt with practiced ease.

The Shogun squirms in her seat, and her head tips back as wanton moans spill from her open mouth. A small part of you found it endearing, and prior to knowing Thoma, you thought that there was no noise sweeter than the Shogun's singing as your fingers scissor her pussy mercilessly. But that had been quickly replaced by the sound of Thoma's laughter, and the sound of his strangled moans whenever he pushed inside you.

When you feel her tighten around your fingers, you pull them out, turning away from her so she doesn't see you wiping it on your hip. "Well, I'll be off to the library—"

"W-wait."

You smile.

“My lady,” the attendant at the door of the Yashiro Commission greets you, bowing as low as if you had been the Raiden Shogun herself. “What can I do for you today?”

“Is Lord Ayato or Lady Ayaka around? I’m afraid it’s rather urgent.”

“Lord Ayato is currently in a meeting, which he mentioned would take precedence over everything else. Lady Ayaka should be resting in her study, but I could have the Chief Retainer relay everything to them…”

You briefly consider going to Thoma directly. The chain of command still follows even with him in the picture, and the target was him after all. But you were terrified; his presence alone would make you lose track of time and all sense of control, both essential if you want to get him out in one piece.

“Someone call my name?”

Your head whips around, and you nearly drop the scroll you’d meticulously written all your plans on, intended only for the sympathetic eyes of the Kamisato siblings. Thoma stands there, his easy smile a beacon of light in the darkest night. Your mind, clouded with misery over the possibility of losing the first person who had dared to even touch your hand, stutters to a stop when he shoots you a look that you dare describe as a look of love and adoration.

You have half a mind to drop everything, grab his hand, and go as far away from this godforsaken place as you could.

“What a nice surprise, my lady,” Thoma says, taking your hand in his and pressing it to his lips. He peers up at you through his lashes and winks, and your head spins. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Thoma, the Almighty Shogun’s Hand has information to pass to the Kamisato heads,” the attendant answers for you.

“Is that so?” He keeps his voice light, though you don’t miss the way his eyes narrow at the mention of your title. “I’d be happy to relay it to them for you. Can’t have the Almighty Shogun’s darling going through all that trouble, hmm?”

You frown, and he only laughs, walking past you towards the doors. “I’m just joking. At least stay for some tea?”

“We can have it brought to the sitting room,” the attendant offers.

“No,” you say, and Thoma looks back at you in surprise. “I...this is a private conversation, so…”

You hope your eyes convey the gravity of the situation; thankfully, Thoma gets it. “We can speak in the room in the east wing,” he decides. “Please give us some privacy, as the lady has requested.”

“Certainly, sir.”

Thoma gestures for you to go on before him, and you oblige. You feel his hand—as if you had your own force of gravity—drift towards your waist, and you slow just long enough for his fingers to brush against your side.

Servants bow as you pass, but you barely spare them a glance as you pick up the pace, your knowledge of the estate’s layout guiding you through the seemingly endless corridors. Thoma follows closely, silent as the grave; you were sure that there were a million questions running in that gorgeous head of his. He was as smart as you, after all.

You practically run into the room he’d mentioned earlier, and he nearly slams the door shut behind him. You drop the scroll you’d cradled so carefully to your person, and, letting out a small sob, you run straight into his arms.

He catches you with a surprised grunt, the confusion in his beautiful face only spurring you on to cover it in kisses.

"Slow down, my darling," he laughs breathlessly. "I know I'm irresistible, but slow down."

Once you had calmed down enough for your breathing to become steady, you wipe your tears away. Thoma cradles your chin and tilts it upwards to meet his gaze. His eyes hold so much warmth, love, and comfort; you weren't sure what you'd do without them.

"What, sweet girl?"

"You…" Your lip trembles violently. "The 100th Vision Hunt Decree Ceremony…"

You've become so accustomed to his every gesture, every expression, that you know the exact moment when he connects the dots just by looking at his face. His brow furrows, and his lips part slightly before he sighs, dropping his hand from your face to grasp sections of your skirt in his hands. "When?"

"A fortnight from today," you whisper.

He nods to the scroll you'd tossed aside. "What's that?"

"We need to get you out of here. Far, far away. Back to Mondstadt, where you belong."

Thoma laughs, and you almost want to hit him from how lightly he's taking all of this. "And how do we do that? The Sakoku Decree is in force, you know."

"I'll take you there," you say, and his smile drops completely. "With my current abilities, I can only teleport short places at a time. And I can't...teleport us to a location that I don't know visually, so there's bound to be some hiccups, but...I'll be willing to try."

"And who are the guards going to arrest once the ceremony begins?"

You pull away from him slightly to pick up the scroll, waving it in his face. "We can come up with something. You came down with a deadly fever and you never recovered. You were mobbed by some samurai and you never returned. They'll take Lord Ayato and Lady Ayaka's word for it, which is why I—"

"No."

Your yammering comes to an abrupt stop, and you stare at Thoma, who barely spares the scroll in your hand a glance.

"What do you mea—"

"I can't ask the Kamisato Clan to do that for me." He shakes his head. "Taking in an outlander...if they had been anyone else, they would have been punished severely. I'm risking their reputation by even being here."

"That's not true," you say in disbelief, grabbing his hands. "You've got a network of people that most native highborn Inazumans can only dream of having. You've helped so many people, so many outlanders...isn't that what the Kamisato clan does best?"

Thoma sighs. "But asking them to lie for me, to help me escape...what happens if I get caught? If the Shogun even gets a whiff of information that I'm still alive...who's going to pay the price?"

"They are the Yashiro Commission," you stress. "No one’s going to question them for fear of irking the people’s wrath. If you're not going to talk to them, I will. I am not losing you too."

You push past him, and he brings you back with a murmur of your name and a hand around your wrist. You don't trust yourself to look back at him; Archons know just what your pitiful heart might do.

He seems to hear your unspoken prayer, and in the true spirit of a defiant child of freedom, he denies it swiftly by spinning you around.

He holds your face in his hands gently, and suddenly, his entire presence is suffocating. But it's not in the way you feel when you're in a similar position with the Raiden Shogun. This one does not feel choking, dominating; this was enveloping, warm. This was a drop of water in a scorching desert, a single musical note echoing in a silent room.

You were so overwhelmed by your love for this man, that the mere thought of losing any part of him would crush you beyond belief. Thoma was your home, your eternity.

"It's going to be okay," he whispers, his breath fanning across your lips.

"It's not," you protest. "Thoma, you know what'll happen if you lose your Vision. You've seen what it does to people. And I can't—I don't—"

"But what'll happen to you?" Thoma asks. "It's no secret to anyone that the Raiden Shogun...well...if something were to happen to you…"

"I've planned for that, too," you say. "We can arrange for you to hide somewhere, and while she's consumed with the thought of finding you...I'll get to you first."

You press your lips to his palm shakily. "Then we can go to Mondstadt, see? You can show me where you grew up, where they serve Dandelion Wine, celebrate the Windboom Festival…"

Thoma smirks. "The Windblume Festival."

"Right," you laugh, feeling the tears well up again. "Then it will never rain again."

Thoma studies your face carefully, before pressing a kiss to your forehead and wrapping you in his arms. You bury your face into his chest.

"I love you," he says, and you feel the weight of the words through the rumbling of his chest. "So, so much. Archons, I do."

You peer up at him again, and it wraps your heart in a vice to see tears of his own adorning the edges of his lashes.

"But I can't."

Your mouth goes dry.

He shakes his head and looks up, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. "I knew what I was getting myself into, falling in love with the Raiden Shogun's Hand. I knew loving you would come back to bite us in the ass someday, and that day is today, it seems."

He looks down at you again, brushing strands of hair away from your face. "But I snuck past the guards and grabbed your hand anyway."

The tears—both his and yours—begin to fall in earnest as he leans down to kiss you. The two of you stand there for what seemed like an eternity, and for a minute, you understand what the Shogun feels, when he finally pulls away.

"You need to go back," he tells you.

"I'm not going to let her take you from me."

Thoma laughs, almost incredulously. "Funny you should say that, my love. I've been wishing that ever since I've met you. But this is how it's going to play out."

He steps back, but keeps sections of your skirt in his hands. "You're going to go back to the Shogun," he begins. "You're safer there. She's not going to let anyone hurt you, let alone touch you."

"But don't you understand?!" You yank yourself away from him, the frustration that had been bubbling up earlier making a reappearance. "She's not going to let you touch me either! I'm not going back there, I'm not going anywhere without you!"

"It's better than the life you'd have with me. Would you want that? Being constantly on the run? Never having a single place to call home, having the fugitive label on your back wherever we go? Having the Raiden Shogun's fury follow you everywhere?'

"She can burn this whole world to the ground. I don't care. As long as I'm with you."

Thoma continues, unperturbed by your response. "You're going to go back to her, and maybe in the future she's going to get pressured to marry you off to some highborn to maintain order. And you're going to have a family, riches beyond your imagination, and most importantly, safety. You don't know what it's like out there."

You shake your head in disbelief. "I can't believe this. And what about you?"

"Me?" He seems momentarily surprised at the thought of you considering him. "Well...Vision or no Vision, I think I can still work as Chief Retainer. I've got mean sweeping skills, you know."

"I mean," you grit your teeth. "Are you okay with all of that? Me going back to the Shogun, getting married to some guy I probably don't even know, having children that aren't yours?"

He opens his mouth to answer, but you beat him to it. "And what I want doesn't matter, either? Do you think I want to go back to her? I see it in your eyes, every night we're together. You hate it. You hate that she gets to touch me whenever she likes, hate that she's on my skin, hate that she wants what's always been yours."

"You know as well as I do what she can do when you pull away." He caresses your cheek, and pulls you into his arms once more. "Just as you are bound to the Raiden Shogun, I am bound to the Kamisato Clan. I can't risk dishonoring them by asking them to lie about me to the people they serve. That's going to pass down to their children, and their children's children. Multiple generations of treachery."

"So...that's it?" you whimper. "Thoma, you could forget everything. Everyone."

"Not true." He sways you gently. "I could never forget a face like yours. Ambition...anyone can want anything, and I'm always going to want you. And even if I lose my memory a million times, I'd still fall in love with you every single time."

It was unfair to you, the way he casually declared his love. You wanted nothing more than to scream it back, that you loved him as much as he loved you, maybe even more. You wanted to sear it into his skin, shake his system to its core, until all he knows is just how much you'd be willing to die for him.

"Don't you worry your pretty little head about me," Thomas murmurs into your hair. "I'll be fine."

You look up at him then, breaking the embrace. You try to imagine the warmth in his eyes dissipating along with the influence of his Vision. You try to imagine a listless, hollow shell of a man walking around with no objective in life, much like the victims of the Vision Hunt Decree. Much like your mother.

You try to imagine a life without him, and it fuels you with a quiet, unbridled rage.

"I don't believe you," you whisper, and you turn on your heels, feeling your skirt slip away from his grasp as you leave him behind.

If not now, when?

You had whispered it to yourself, over and over again  in the mirror, on the morning of the 100th Vision Hunt Decree Ceremony. It was one of your moments of quiet defiance, knowing that you were actively plotting what could be the biggest betrayal to the Raiden Shogun in centuries while she slept in your bed.

The wind whips the hood of your cloak around your face as you stand in front of the statue of the Thousand-Eyed God. You peer up at a sky covered in dark clouds, but you grow nervous when you don't sense a storm coming. There would be no cover for you; no way to disguise your movement as simple lightning strikes, like how you used to sneak out to see Thoma.

Thoma…

The guards had brought him to the area of the ceremony ten minutes ago. Bile had risen in your throat when you saw him tied up and forced to the ground, but to your relief, he was otherwise unharmed. You keep your eyes lowered, as you had been trained to do, your figure mimicking the statue that was just next to you.

The Raiden Shogun crosses your vision, and you bow as she moves towards the statue, gazing upon its face and the Visions that adorn its wings. Your heart begins hammering in your chest when she finally turns around, her arm outstretched and electricity crackled around her fingertips.

You know what part comes next, having seen it many times over, and you know that you had mere seconds to move. There would be a small window of time where confusion would keep everyone rooted in their places, and as long as you concentrated, you would be out of there as planned.

You finally look up, and the wind blows your hood back. Your eyes meet Thoma's, just as the Vision from his belt flies towards the Shogun.

You keep your eyes trained on his Vision and crouch, feeling your elemental magic crawl from your toes up to your head like it had many times before.

But you never get there.

A flash of blonde and a purple light similar to your own crosses your path, and Thoma's Vision is no longer in front of you.

Gasps and murmurs echo from the crowd when a mysterious figure falls to the ground in a combat stance, the Vision in their hand and a strange fairy flying over to their side.

They have no Vision. You couldn't sense any on their person, though they were infused with what was undoubtedly Electro energy. So this was the mysterious Traveler that everyone was talking about; the Honorary Knight of Mondstadt, an honored guest of the Liyue Qixing, who'd fought off an ancient god.

The Shogun looked confused herself, and you watch as the guards run from Thoma towards the Traveler. They strike the three down with bolts of concentrated Electro energy, before dashing over to Thoma to undo his binds.

Your spirits rise, but they are crushed just as quickly as the Shogun zaps their hands away.

"Capable of using elemental magic without a Vision…" she muses, coming down from the statue. "You are an exception, it seems."

There is no mistaking the rage that emanates from the Raiden Shogun—a rage, manifested in the electricity that surrounds her entire figure, that you know is enough to slay gods and tear the heavens asunder.

"Exceptions...the enemy of Eternity."

She stretches her arms, and everyone in the vicinity gets blown back from the sheer force of her power, including you. Through the small window between your arms, you see her retrieve the weapon that she keeps in her soul, triggering another wave of power that is too much for even you to handle.

"You will be inlaid upon this statue," she booms, and just like that, she and the Traveler were gone.

Once you had gotten your footing back, you waste no time, teleporting yourself to where Thoma was.

"What are you doing?" he hisses.

"She's going to administer judgement," you say quickly, tugging at Thoma's restraints.

"Judgement?!" the Traveler's companion squeaked. "You mean...like Kazuha's friend…?"

"I don't know who Kazuha is," you answer. "But once you've challenged the Raiden Shogun, she will deliver judgement."

"Will they make it?"

"Hard to say." You click your tongue in annoyance when you sense that the ropes were imbued with some sort of magic; most likely to keep Thoma's Pyro Vision from burning it off easily. You grab one of the Shogunate's polearms and try to saw the ropes off.

You hear Thoma chuckle as you work. "You're mad," he says breathlessly.

"I've arranged for a temporary hiding spot near Nazuchi Beach," you tell him. "But first we'll go to Komore Teahouse to regroup."

"But, the Traveler…!"

"This is Paimon, by the way," Thoma adds, aiding you by moving his hands in the opposite direction of the blade.

"Paimon, it's going to be okay," you comfort the fairy. "I'll wait for them to come back, then we'll go."

"But how?!" Paimon wails.

“You grab the Traveler, I’ll focus on getting us out of here,” you instruct Thoma. “I’ve never transported more than two at a time, so you need to help me.”

"You idiot, she'll see you!" Thoma snaps. "You need to go now or—"

"If you tell me to go one more time, I will teleport and drop you into the Musoujin Gorge," you growl. "I am not leaving you. Never."

Before Thoma could respond, lightning strikes the ground in front of you, and all the hairs on your body stand up.

The air shimmers and seemingly dissolves, revealing the Raiden Shogun meters away, with the Traveler on the ground closer to you, unconscious. Paimon screams and flies over to them, her little hands grasping their clothes and her distraught voice begging them to wake up.

"Damn!" The rope was nowhere near half cut, and you pick up the pace, knowing your time was running out.

You feel a pair of eyes on you, and you trace them back to the Raiden Shogun.

For the first time, you don't know what expression is on her face. Hurt? Anger? Betrayal? Was there even emotion on her face? You didn't know. It terrified you that you didn't know.

Your eyes lock with hers as you continue to work on Thoma's binds, wondering if she was able to understand them the way he always did. They were telling her—despite everything you had been through with her—that there was some part of you, no matter how miniscule, was telling her one thing: I'm sorry.

She continues walking towards the Traveler, her entire body still flickering with energy.

"Shit," you curse, finally knowing what was happening to the Shogun, turning your attention back to the ropes.

"Come on, come on," Thoma grunts, moving his hands faster.

"Paimon, move!" you scream out to the fairy. To your horror, neither her nor the Shogun listen, confirming your fear that the latter had slipped back into a state where she could not tell between friend or foe—her most war-like state, the one you’d desperately tried to lock away all these years.

"Almost...almost…"

You hear Paimon's squeak of terror, and you look up to see the Shogun motion for her to move away using her weapon.

The rope snags on the blade, and falls to the ground. You don't think.

You grab Thoma's arm and disappear, teleporting mere inches away from the Traveler and Paimon. Just as the Shogun brings her weapon down, Thoma sweeps the Traveler into his arms, and you grab Paimon's leg, before escaping into the heavens in a flash of lightning.

The last thing Thoma hears is a clap of thunder before he crashes to the ground, coughing as the smell of burning fills his nostrils. The Traveler (who had somehow managed to gain consciousness) had tumbled out of his arms and onto the sand, which he realizes is the garden next to the Komore Teahouse.

Relief fills his system when he hears Ayaka's panicked shouts, along with Taroumaru's barking. He decides he isn't a big fan of your teleportation (though being able to disappear and reappear again somewhere in a bolt of lightning was rather cool, he supposes).

He leaves Paimon to fuss over the now-awake and slightly delirious Traveler, and turns to look for you. He finds you face down on the ground, your crumpled form lying meters away from where he had landed.

"Hey," he calls, running over to you. "Hey, we're here. You did it."

Thoma leans down to brush your hair away and press a kiss to your nape, but his heart drops.

A perfectly vertical cut runs down the back of your neck, oozing blood and occasional sparks of electricity. Your Vision is missing, along with the ribbon tied around your neck.

You aren't waking up.

taglist (those in italics, I can’t seem to tag you :<): @izayanna @onigiree​ @thetwinkims​ @cybersnotonline @decaffeinateddragonbananagoth @candyqueen10​ @littlefluffbunz-4208 @xuenn @crushmylimbs​ @axerrri​ @idkwhattonamethis1000​ @foelup​ @rasasvavda​ @themoonalienhere2000​ @catharia-catharsis​ @catboyjesus​ @that-jax​ @xcherriess14 @friend-ofcloud​ @berryunderscore @xiao-chao @flerpdederp​ @bugtim3​ @kelly339 @pinaplemess1

[storytellerofuntoldlegends]

an icarus and his sun: chapter 12

A/N: another shorter chapter here, a bit of an uneasy calm before the storm :)

Warnings: injury, fever, infection/corruption, unconsciousness, talk of possession, talk of death, crying

AO3 Link - Tumblr Masterpost

-

The last few days had been horrendous. Jimmy hardly got any sleep, staying at Scott’s side and comforting him through the horrible fever and corruption. The few times Scott was awake, he wasn’t super coherent- the fact that he kept clinging to Jimmy and borderline whining whenever Jimmy wasn’t right beside him proved that. Everyone was trying their best to come up with solutions for Scott. While Joel, Lizzie, and Pixl hadn’t seemed too keen on helping Scott at first, they quickly changed their tune when they heard about what Fwhip had said about Scott, how he had really cared about Jimmy, and left the Wither Rose Alliance because of it. Joel and Pixl tried offering golden apples and health potions, but Gem and Shelby sadly explained that they hadn’t been doing much good, only somewhat combating the fever and doing absolutely nothing to the corruption. Then they tried to remove the corruption- but Scott woke up screaming in pain, and that was a sound that would haunt Jimmy forever. They stopped trying to remove the corruption pretty much instantly, as it was clear that it was far too intertwined with Scott. They would just find another way, there had to be another way.

With Gem’s magic, they had managed to get the corruption to stop spreading across his skin- and it seemed like it had worked. Even Shelby seemed optimistic- her people were never able to stop the corruption from spreading. Scott’s fever went down, and he woke up, seeming far more coherent than he had been in the past few days. Well, maybe not super coherent, he looked extremely baffled and wondered if he was dead. But he wasn’t, he was awake and for once his icy blue eyes weren’t glazed over with fever or pain… but then just like that, everything went wrong again. Scott started shaking and hyperventilating, babbling out apologies- then he tensed, eyes turning red before they fluttered shut and he went limp.

“What happened?!” Gem asked as she burst in, followed by Pearl, Shelby, Katherine, Pixl, Joel, and Lizzie. Jimmy was still standing at Scott’s side, hand tightly gripping Scott’s.

“I don’t know, he seemed fine and then he wasn’t- and his eyes went red, the same red as the corruption,” Jimmy explained, trying to keep his voice from shaking.

“Oh no,” Shelby gasped, eyes going wide as she scrambled back from Scott’s bed. Jimmy looked at her in confusion.

“Shelby, what’s wrong?” Jimmy asked. Shelby swallowed nervously.

“There- there was something else that could happen to people because of the corruption- but it was rare, not many people lived long enough for it to happen.. but we got it to stop spreading, so why would his eyes…” Shelby’s rambling trailed off as she continued backing away from Scott’s bed, eyes wide with horror.

“Shelby, what aren’t you telling us?” Pixl asked, voice gentle yet firm.

“They would become like puppets, the corruption would control them so it could spread- but Scott shouldn’t just be lying there, if his eyes really went red then he should have killed us all by now,” Shelby explained shakily. Various gasps and shouts of alarm filled the room.

“You knew what the corruption did this whole time and didn’t tell us?!” Jimmy demanded.

“Jimmy, yelling isn’t going to solve anything,” Katherine reprimanded, but it was lost on Jimmy as he glared at Shelby instead.

“Becoming a puppet to the corruption was rare! And I didn’t think it was happening to Scott- most times, before someone got under the corruption’s control, they were in a much better state than Scott. But it was like that was what the corruption wanted sometimes. It would weed out the weak ones and keep the strong ones to spread it. And… well, with how Scott was doing, it seemed like the corruption saw him as weak. But then you said his eyes went red, and that was a surefire sign that the corruption took over someone- but he should have started killing people or trying to spread the corruption… it doesn’t make sense,” Shelby rambled, her terrified expression completely directed at Jimmy now. Jimmy’s shoulders sagged, and he dropped his glare to instead sheepishly grimace at Shelby.

“I… yeah, okay. That- that makes sense. Sort of. Sorry for yelling,” he said, giving her a weak smile. Shelby gave a trembling smile back.

“It’s okay. And who knows! Maybe Scott passing out means that he’s still fighting off the corruption,” Shelby said hopefully.

“I don’t think we can afford to be that optimistic,” Pearl said with a wary glance to Scott’s still form.

“Maybe we should lock him away somewhere, until we find a cure,” Joel pondered.

“I have a secret meeting room- Fwhip and Sausage know about it, but it’s probably the most fortified spot in my empire,” Gem offered.

“We could always set up a guard rotation, maybe have someone stay in the meeting room with Scott as a last resort,” Pixl pointed out.

“I’m staying with Scott,” Jimmy blurted. Everyone’s gazes snapped to Jimmy with varying expressions of fear and concern.

“Jimmy, that’s suicide,” Lizzie said softly, eyes slightly glassy. Jimmy felt his eyes watering as well.

“I don’t care, I’m not abandoning him. Not again. Besides, maybe Shelby’s right, maybe he’s still trying to fight it off. And if anyone can beat it, it’s Scott,” Jimmy said firmly.

“Jimmy, this isn’t your fault,” Lizzie said softly. Jimmy gave her a grim trembling smile.

“If I hadn’t pushed him away, then he wouldn’t have had to deal with Fwhip and Sausage on his own. Then maybe none of this would have happened,” he replied, guilt laced throughout his tone. Lizzie let out a frustrated scoff.

“Then you both would have ended up like this! Jimmy, we can’t lose you either!” she exclaimed, hands gesturing wildly as she began to cry. Jimmy let out a sound that was half laugh, half sob as he reached out to take Lizzie’s hands.

“Lizzie, what if it was Joel in this situation?” he asked softly. A look of understanding came over Lizzie’s face, but she shook her head, still looking like she wanted to protest.

“I- but-”

“So you know why I have to do this. I can’t just… give up on him again,” Jimmy continued. Lizzie let out a sigh of defeat, nodding at Jimmy.

“I told you these land boys were trouble,” she teased weakly.

“Didn’t think it would be this much trouble,” Jimmy said with a nervous laugh. Lizzie gave a watery laugh in response, and hesitated for only half a second before letting go of Jimmy’s hands to hug him tightly.

“You’re not allowed to die,” Lizzie murmured into his shoulder. Jimmy chuckled.

“Understood, Ocean Queen,” he said solemnly, swallowing the lump in his throat before letting go of her to look at the others.

“So you’re sure about this?” Gem asked. Jimmy nodded firmly.

“We should still keep a guard rotation outside too, that way Jimmy can call for help if he needs it,” Pearl added. The others nodded in agreement, and Gem fiddled with something around her neck before taking it off and holding it out to Jimmy. It was one of her amethyst shards on a chain, gently glowing with her magic.

“This should protect you from the corruption. The crystals are what helped me slow the spread of it in Scott, maybe it will help it from spreading to you. I’m sorry I don’t have a more definite solution,” Gem explained, pressing it into Jimmy’s hand. The crystal shimmered in his hand, glowing a bit before going back to its usual purple hue.

“Thank you- it’s better than nothing,” Jimmy replied with a smile as he put on the necklace.

“At the very least it looks nice on you!” Shelby chirped, relieving the tension in the room slightly as the group laughed. But the laughs dissipated quickly, and they began preparations to move Scott to the secret meeting room.

-

The wall closing in front of Jimmy felt like a finality. Realistically he could open it whenever he wanted, but that was only if the situation got dire enough, or if it turned out that Scott was okay. He had hugged each of his friends- even Gem, Pearl and Shelby, even though their friendships were relatively new- and it felt too much like a goodbye. But it wouldn’t be, surely Scott would be alright.

Jimmy looked over to the bed they had set up in the room, where Scott was still peacefully asleep. That was a good sign, right? Unless it wasn’t, and Scott would just… never wake up. Forever trapped in the clutches of the corruption, eternally fighting its control. Jimmy shook his head. He couldn’t think like that. Scott would wake up, eventually. But whether or not Scott would be himself when he woke up was another issue. Would Jimmy really be able to fight him off? Would he even have enough time to call for help? And even if he did, would he want to? If he asked his friends for help, they would have to kill Scott in order to keep the lands safe from corruption. He just had to hope that Gem could figure out a cure before it got to that point. And maybe this worrying was for nothing! Maybe Scott’s willpower was strong enough to fight it… but there was no way of knowing that. Instead, all Jimmy could do was sit at Scott’s side, holding his hand and praying to whoever was listening that Scott would be alright.

-

Taglists below! Let me know if you want to be added/removed!

MCYT General Fic Taglist: @corazon10000 @damiensaidno @franticfandomfanatic @gattonero17 @hetapeep41 @space-ace123 @vyeoh 

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[daisybeewrites]

July — d.j.

for @dreamcxtcherr ‘s 3k writing challenge. congrats lena!!

word count: 1.8k

warnings: mention of car crash/death, mention of alcohol consumption, daisy cries, i think thats it lmk if not!!

ship: R x daisy johnson

okay y’all… first ever anggstttttt!!! i’m way too excited about it. if you want a fully immersive experience, i recommend listening to july by noah cyrus slowed + reverb

(gif uncredited on pinterest (ugh, i hate that. credit a gif if you use it!! im trying to find the owner)) update — found owner

It was another mission. Another nightmarish fire-fight where you almost lost a limb, almost lost a friend, almost lost your life. Twenty-four hours later and you’re back home, safe.

Well, as safe as you can be when your engagement is on the verge of breaking off.

You stare at the simple ring on your left hand. White gold band, a tiny amethyst set to the left of a diamond. There was a nearly identical one lying next to the sink, the only difference being the switched places of the glittering gems.

You know she didn’t do it purposefully. You had both been exhausted after what was supposed to be an in-and-out mission turned into a hostage situation. Daisy did what she always did as soon as you were home — take off her gauntlets, wash her hands in the sink, grab a snack, and hop into a steaming shower.

But you still can’t stop yourself from staring at it, eyes fixed, hands shaking, breath held and mind racing.

You used to join her. You would wash each other’s hair, ease each other’s sore muscles with delicate touches on tender purple-black bruises. She would lean into you, letting you braid her hair and falling asleep in your arms, drifting into a deep slumber. It was intimate, lovely; it was normal and perfect.

Taking a sip of your room-temperature beer, you slide off the cool granite of the kitchen island. You had a new routine after missions now, you just had to get used to it.

You hear the shower shut off, bare feet pad into your cosy bedroom, and the door shut with a loud creak. The minute squeak of the mattress tells you that Daisy flopped into bed.

A ghost of a smile lights your face. It looks more like a grimace, you think, as you check your distorted reflection in the green glass of your beer bottle. Chucking the empty bottle in the recycling, you run a hand through your dirty, salty hair. The comfy sweats you changed into an hour ago would need to be washed, the dirt still adorning your skin rubbing off on the black material. You exhale before heading down the hall towards the bathroom.

The tiled room is filled with steam, the mirror fogged up so that only a blurry outline of your silhouette could be seen. You are unrecognizable.

How fitting.

The quick, cold shower you take does nothing to ease your mind or body. You wipe the mirror in a circle, taking out a first aid kit.

With all your cuts bandaged and the proper creams Jemma had snuck to you and Daisy applied to your fresh bruises, you headed into the hallway in your towel.

Daisy is standing in the kitchen, lilac lounge shorts you bought her last Christmas showing off her tanned and scarred legs. She looks warm and soft, a very different Daisy than the superhero who had broken a mob boss’ legs just hours before. Her hair is wet and in braids. You frown. You always braid her hair.

If she hears you, she doesn’t turn around, so you take a moment to admire her. Ten seconds, that’s all you give yourself. It was a stressful mission, if you stare too long she might snap. From the back, you can’t see the dark circles you know are there, but you can see the tension in her shoulders and the slight tilt of her head as she ponders what to eat.

You say nothing as you go to the bedroom to change. You find a black pair of SHIELD sweats and an old, holey t-shirt you vaguely remember stealing from Fitz. A presence at the doorway catches your attention.

“Hi,” Daisy says tentatively. Your breath caught in your throat, your lungs holding the air captive until Daisy spoke again.

“I missed you.”

Your eyes widened. Maybe tonight wouldn’t end with one of you on the couch, clutching a six pack while the other cried as quietly as possible, tucked into cold, lonely sheets.

“Braiding my hair, I mean,” She clarified. Her fingers twisted together, rigid posture giving away her nerves.

The air felt humid, as if the open window had suddenly sucked all the AC out and let the mid-summer heat in. Your memory flashes to the last time you and Daisy had a normal, happy conversation.

The edges are fuzzy, but the pure joy in Daisy’s chocolate eyes is clear. Fairy lights strung haphazardly around the living room, a movie playing in the background, your lips on hers. Blankets make a ceiling over your head that shut out the rest of the world, this moment was only for you two. You played with the thin metal band on her ring finger, she ran her hands through her hair. Her matching ring scratched your scalp lightly. You both smile as you pull away. You whisper childhood stories, laugh at the funny parts and offer melancholic smiles at the not-so-lighthearted parts. You were happy.

That night you got the call — Lincoln Campbell, yours and Daisy’s best friend, had wrapped his car around a telephone pole coming off of a long shift at the hospital. His blood alcohol was almost .40.

Eggshells littered the house from the time you got back from the funeral. One wrong word, Daisy would snap and spend hours punching a bag until her fingers bled. You would fill those hours with whatever was closer — wine or your car keys. You pulled yourself out of your head, realizing you should answer her.

“I missed it, too,” You breathed.

Daisy made a small, unintelligible noise before collapsing against the door frame. You froze for only a second, your mind racing through possibilities. Was she bleeding internally? Was it her back again? Did she get shot and not notice until now?

You leap over to her, catching her as she crumbles to the hardwood floor.

A quiet sob wracks her chest. Your hands hover over her slouched back, unsure how to comfort her. At this moment, Daisy feels foreign. Her sudden vulnerability alerts you to how she’s been holding her emotions in for god knows how long.

“Daisy…” You start, hesitantly.

Daisy hiccups loudly, another wave of tears washing over her.

“Tell me to leave, I’ll pack my bags,” Daisy cried, “But I don’t, I-I don’t want to lose you!”

Burning tears gather on your lash line, threatening to fall at her words. You never could stand to see Daisy cry.

Your brows furrow slightly in confusion before you realize what Daisy is talking about. After Lincoln’s death, you two had fought increasingly more often until Daisy locked herself away or spent the night at May’s, and you went for drives until your car ran on empty. On those nights, bottles of wine disappeared from the cabinet without a trace.

Daisy sits up, stamping down her sobs, seemingly resigning herself to the fact that you aren’t going to say anything. Her trembling lip and red eyes pierce your heart. The astronomical distance between you two seems atomic now. You reach out quicker than lightning, shushing her cries and rubbing her back.

“Do you want to go?” You asked after a while. Your knees dig uncomfortably into the floor, your shoulder hurts from the ridges in the doorframe.

Daisy sniffles, her hair falling into her face as she looks away. You crane your neck down, carefully tucking her hair behind her ear.

“You know I’m afraid of change, I guess that’s why we’ve stayed the same,” You sigh, your chest constricting and squeezing the broken glass pieces of your heart.

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself to continue, “But if you want to find a new life, someone who loves you better than I do, darling, I understand.”

Daisy is still frozen, stare burning holes in the floor. You’re glad that the two of you are at home, the poly-tectic adaptive materials hidden between the walls keeping the house from collapsing. By the slight groan of the foundation, you can imagine Daisy could bring down a mountain with the amount of pain she’s in.

Which can only mean one thing.

“I’m not enough,” You stated. It wasn’t a question. You glance down, a glint in the low light cast from the lamp on the bedside table catching your eye. She has her ring on…

Daisy finally, finally shakes her head ‘no’. You let go of a breath, guilt building every second that passes. She isn’t happy. You shouldn’t be happy that she’s staying.

“Feels like a lifetime, we’ve been trying to get by while we’re dying inside,” You say, gently.

Daisy snaps her eyes to yours, a desperation in them you recognize as grief.

“So much of the past year has been consumed by grief. We never took time off, we never talked about it. I’ve done a lot of things wrong, loving you being one,” She whispers.

You nod, there is no denying that you each had a part in getting to where you are now. Delicately, you grab her hand. She squeezes it, a rush of small vibrations traveling up your arm. Your chest flutters at the familiar affection.

“So have I,” You assure her. She gradually falls towards you, exhausted. You let her rest her head on your shoulder, her breath evening out as her arms wrap around you. You feel hot tears flow down your face, fall onto her hair. Slowly, you pull Daisy closer to you.

Hours later, the sun peeks over the top of the mountain range in the distance. You had adjusted the two of you sometime around two a.m., no longer able to feel your legs from how the floor cut off your circulation.

Sometime around three, you had gathered the courage to move Daisy to the bed, trying hard not to wake her. She had only turned over and not let go of your hand.

You haven’t slept at all tonight, thoughts spinning until you force yourself to pause and count to ten, only to repeat the pattern.

You know what you have to do. You know what’s best for the both of you. You’ll leave, pack your bags and find a place to stay until you can scrape up enough money to rent an apartment. You’ll go to therapy, learn to live without Lincoln, without Daisy. Eventually, Daisy will heal, too. You both have the team at your backs, no matter what happens. She would be okay.

But you know you won’t. The fear of losing Daisy, of losing your life, your home, yourself stops you. You can’t move on. You can’t move forward.

You know that the big changes it takes to heal could cost you Daisy. So, you stay the same. You give into fear. You’ll never be enough, never love Daisy right, never quite heal fully — and neither will Daisy. But you still stay.

You’ll always stay the same.

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

ahhhh how was it? did you love it? any feedback? want more? put any thoughts/feelings/questions/concerns in the comments or my ask box!! i really enjoyed writing this and i hope you enjoyed reading it even more!!

<<3

[serenscarlett-moved]

ok, some canon divergence idea and headcanons I got about Vaylin for this verse. because I took her away from devs and claimed her as my own oc. [blows raspberry at devs]

- Her fullname is Vaylin Láska. (the last name means "love" in Czech and Slovak, on behind the name site).

- As the name stands... she IS NOT related to Senya, Arcann and Thexan in this verse. Vaylin was pretty much a retconned character-turned-oc like Vowrawn, Eleena, Marr and Tau etc.

- She is a Sith Hybrid (human x red sith). Born with recessive blonde hair that was turned darker apart of her growing up and has unusual glowly green eyes (think like Malora's eyes as example).

She doesn't have those jewel-gem like thing on her forehead (idk what to call them appropriately) and she doesn't have full body tattoos like you see in KotET.

However, she does have some kind of birthmark on her body, which prompted my Wrath OC, Kritanta, to notice and recognise it immediately, questioning the identity on who's her father.

- With that being said above, Vaylin's biological mother is called Malita Tal, who is known as an explicit s*x worker within the Empire coreworld as a way to make a living and survive. Sometime after Vaylin was born, Malita had to gave her up for adoption for both of their protections, which Malita described this as a difficult decision to make.

Also, speaking of relation, she is related to a KOTOR character in this verse. hmu if you curious. 👀

- Relation and bloodlines aside... Vaylin was fostered by a couple who were unable to have children of their own and lived on Alderaan for a few years until the Jedi sought her out due to the strong Force connection.

- She was originally intended to be assigned to Somminick Timmns but Nomen Karr had expressed high interests to train her instead. In this case, Vaylin replaces Jaesa in this verse’s Sith Warrior story.

- Vaylin possesed unique Force abilities such as Force Sight and Battle Meditation, but she was completely unaware that she was being used by Nomen Karr and his dark intentions.

Said dark intentions led to Vowrawn to become angry when found out and regretted the decision in letting Karr alive (for Baras to find) and sent Kritanta to hunt him down again.

- I headcanoned her as a mixture of Sage and Sorcerer due to her bloodlines. Mainly since there was a single bladed hilt ingame. She has a purple crystal colour.

- Vaylin knew Jazz before the start of prologue when they were in their late teens.

- faceclaim is Bendetta Gargari. though, I will design her in the Sims one day.

- Asexual, specifically more in alloromantic asexual spectrum.

- She looks up to Vowrawn and Kritanta as proper father figures that is until she was legally adopted into the family.

Kritanta will find out about her parentage due to the birthmark--prompting him to suggest the idea to Vowrawn about a Sith disguise for Vaylin as a way to protect her from certain individuals.

Namely her canon KotFE outfit was her main Sith outfit. Aris introduced her to makeups and taught her how to use them.

- Vaylin isn’t like her counterpart ingame. I see her more similiar to Jaesa as a Light Sided Jedi in this verse.

- Vaylin likes cats--therefore a cat person. She visually remembered the tiniest detail of her early childhood on Alderaan were house cats roaming the streets on House Organa grounds.

i think that’s all I can muster up before my brain go brrr.

[deltas-writing-corner]

Courtship: Together

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland (Malleus x GN!reader)

Author note: Thank you all for your patience and happy reading!

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol and alcohol consumption.

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AO3 version

“Really, I insist.”

“And I insist you sit down and relax while we finish preparing your party,” Lilia says as he pushes Malleus back down in his seat; the grand stone throne at the top of the double staircase in Diasomnia’s main lounge room. “We’re nearly done, anyway!”

Malleus tries to argue that setting out a few plates of food or lighting a few candles himself is no big issue, but Lilia skips away before he can get another word in. He continues to watch as the rest of his dorm mates decorate and rearrange the lounge into a grand venue befitting a birthday bash. Every so often, he checks his phone and rereads the last few messages you sent to him. You wrote you would arrive soon and would inform him when you were outside. He was getting antsy the longer he waits. There was even a moment where he was unsure if you knew the way to his dorm and panic-offered to escort you just in case. He snuck out for you once, and he’d do it again if you only asked.

The somber doorbell rings, and he immediately shoots up onto his feet. Lilia excuses himself so he can answer the door, but Malleus quickly descends the stairs and catches him by the shoulder before he can leave the room. “I’ll get it,” he says, leaving no room for a rebuttal from his caretaker. He hears several shouts of his name and approaching footsteps, but no one completely follows him into the halls, most likely thanks to Lilia holding them back. Even as he puts more and more distance between him and the venue, he swears he can hear the elder fae’s playful giggles echoing in the distance.

He picks up his already hurried pace at the sound of the bell ringing again. He’s a bit out of breath by the time he reaches the door and takes a few moments to straighten up and calm his pounding heart before welcoming you in. His efforts to appear calm and collected are all for naught, as he feels his breath being taken away when he opens the door and sees you. While you’re always wonderfully dressed, seeing you dressed in attire that is just a smidge more formal and fanciful strikes a carnal chord he didn’t know existed till this very moment. Black and green are the signature colors of Diasomnia. While your dress shirt isn’t the traditional vibrant green, instead it is a dark and rich hue, he can’t help but wonder if it would be too rude or outright ridiculous to ask you to wear it more often.

“Hey!” you greet with a bright smile on your face. “See? I made it here just fine.”

“Thank goodness,” he lets out a relieved sigh. “I thought I may have had to pick you out of a thorn bush.”

You let out a hearty laugh at his comment as he ushers you inside. He observes you as you look around and take in the decor of his dorm. While the architecture of Diasomnia is a typical design within the Valley of Thorns, his own home especially, he knows from a few off-handed comments that some students find the dorm gloomy and even downright unwelcoming. He supposes the green flames that bathe the walls and windows in an ominous glow can be a bit intimidating to those not used to them, but you don’t appear bothered by it at all. In fact, you’re dragging him in the opposite direction of the lounge and insisting that he show you around his dorm.

“I’m not leaving ‘till I see your room,” you firmly state.

“Why would you want to see my room?” he asks.

“Y’know?” You point back and forth between him and yourself. “You’ve seen my room, so now I get to see your room.”

That sounds awfully familiar.

“What is your name, child of man?”

“Depends on who’s asking,” you answer nonchalantly, completely unintimidated or disturbed by his presence. “What’s yours?”

His eyebrows furrow with annoyance. “It is proper to give your name when asked.”

“That isn’t how mutual introductions work where I’m from,” you scoff. “You’re supposed to give me your name, and then I give you mine.” you point back and forth between you and himself to better emphasize your explanation. As if you were trying to make sense of the difference between right and wrong to a child.

He feels the urge to growl in the back of his throat. “You’re rather ill-mannered, human.”

“I don't think any reasonable person would feel safe giving out their name to a tall guy with horns, wandering around an abandoned dorm that’s seen better days,” you bite back. “You aren’t making a great case for yourself either.”

After his mind finishes playing back the very first memory and conversation he has of you, he gently grabs you by the shoulder and leads you in the opposite direction. “Very well,” he concedes.

He guides you down several long halls, past the other standard-sized dorm rooms and other empty rooms. The large double doors of his room eventually come into full view, and when you turn and ask him if that was his room, you give him a giddy smile when he confirms it is. His room is rather plain. The only personal items he has are a few pennants above his desk given to him by Lilia many decades ago, and a giant statue shaped as the Witch of Thorn’s dragon form. While there isn’t anything in particular that he’s embarrassed by you seeing, he worries you might find the lack of personal decor boring, upsetting even. You have little else in your room as well, but compared to his it may as well be a treasure trove.

“Huh,” you step in and look back and forth, taking in his private space in all its unassuming glory. “So this is what a dorm leader’s room is like!”

The first place that catches your interest is the bed, which you unashamedly fall back on, arms spread out to bask in the space underneath you. If seeing you on his bed wasn’t enough to stir his heart, it would be the fact that another one of your shirt buttons came undone, exposing more of your collarbones and the middle of your chest to his obsessive gaze.

“Damn, I’d kill for a bed this big,” you grumble. “Do you know how much of a pain it is, sleeping with a bunch of full-grown wolves, four newborn pups, and a steadily growing deer?”

“You can always order them out of your room at night,” he suggests.

You fall back on his bed again with a groan. “Believe me, I’ve tried! They nearly scratched my door off and kept me up all night with their loud howling.”

You and your deep, unspoken love for animals. It seems it’s coming back to bite you in small ways. “You’re much more pliable than I thought!” he says, laughing behind his palm.

“Whatever,” you lift yourself and give a dismissive wave with your hand. Something catches your eye, as you look him up and down before tilting your head inquisitively. “Aren’t you supposed to have a sash with your outfit?”

He is, but what you don’t know is that he purposely left it in his closet, hoping you would notice and bring it up as you did just now. The reason and overall style of this birthday suit perplexed Malleus, but he’ll admit that it wasn’t an unwelcome surprise when the headmaster dropped it off the other day. He was actually hoping it would be you that presented it to him as you did with Lilia’s identical outfit on his birthday. However, that one time was because the headmaster had another obligation and handed the task to you last minute. It was the first time Malleus saw you since the end of the winter break, when his love confession went awry. It was awkward and nerve-racking, as to be expected considering how things went. But when you smiled and called him “tsunotarou” (much to Sebek’s disdain), it helped affirm the words the two of you had been exchanging over the phone, that you and he are still friends and that you still cared about him.

As he had hoped, you quickly offer to put the sash on for him when he mentions it still being somewhere in his wooden wardrobe. Your movements are swift and unassuming, but he can’t help the way his shoulders tense up when you put your arm around him to wrap the sash around his torso. Once the strip of fabric is properly secured, you run your hands over his clothes to smooth out the small wrinkles and bunched-up fabric. Your actions feel like a burst of electricity against his skin, even though there were several layers of clothes separating your bare flesh from his.

You casually wipe your thumb over the purple gem on his lapel pin before saying, “White suits you.”

“Is that so?” He timidly raises his hands to button up your dress shirt, just the one button that was undone earlier. He knows you hate having it buttoned up all the way. “I thought you said red suited me best?”

“I still think it does!” you chuckle. “But I’ve never considered you in something white until now. I guess I have to make you a white coat now.”

“You don’t have to,” he insists. “The one you made for me is fine as it is.”

“That’s good,” you smile. “All those years of helping my aunt sew and mend clothes for my cousins finally came in handy.”

“That would be your second aunt, correct?”

You’re visibly surprised at his comment, but you quickly give him a rather adorable smile. “That’s right!” you chant. When he asks you why you’re smiling so sincerely, you answer, “You’re the first person who’s been able to tell which of my aunts I’m talking about without naming them.”

“You speak of them often, so it’s expected that I’d be able to distinguish who you’re referring to after some time.”

“Well, shut me up if I mention them one too many times,” you insist, eyes averted from his own as you fidget with the ribbon tails of his celebratory bow near his breast pocket, his birth month and day were written with shimmering gold foil.

“Nonsense,” he frowns, redirecting your gaze to him so he can look you in the eyes. “They’re your family. If they’re important to you, then they are to me as well.”

While it’s true that you speak or make a frequent mention of your aunts during your many late-night strolls with him, Malleus’s ability to tell which one you’re referring to is mostly due to him carefully listening to each of your stories like they were gospels, writing seemingly rudimentary information down in his private journal to later read back by himself. Initially, he kept a record because your stories about the life you’ve lived alongside your rather rambunctious human family intrigued him. As his infatuation for you grew, he hoped that by showing you he remembers these moments of your life that you’ve shared with him, it would be a clear sign that he deeply cared not just about you, but also the family you deeply care for.

“Honestly,” you sigh and give him a playful look. “You really know how to tug on my heartstrings, don’t you?”

Malleus has done his best to remain calm and composed in your presence ever since he came to terms with his feelings towards you. As always, you shatter his efforts completely just by being your genuine self, open and honest with your thoughts. You seem to relish his red-faced meltdown, pulling him into a comforting hug while also laughing at him. He hopes you don’t think it strange, the way he seamlessly leans against you and melts in your arms. There’s a pleasant fragrant he picks up in your hair, fresh and floral, specifically like roses. He knows you like to make and use rose water every once in a while to keep your skin moisturized and your hair healthy. His heart is on the verge of bursting through his chest, thinking about you using it specifically with him in mind.

Is this your way of enticing him? It’s not much, but it’s working.

You pull away from him when your phone briefly rings. “Looks like they finished,” you announce as you skim over the newly received message, most likely from Lilia. “We should probably head there now before Sebek gets impatient and hunts you down like a rabbit.”

At the mention of his well-meaning, but loud retainer, Malleus and you leave his room and walk back to the venue together. Along the way, he acts bold and grabs your hand as you hurriedly walk side by side. You don’t pull away when his fingers interlock with yours. Instead, you squeeze and swipe the callus pad of your thumb over his knuckles, a silent assertion that his gesture is okay with you. A shy smile adorns his face. When he spares a glance over at you, he sees one as well.

“I know it’s only been 5 days,” he nervously mentions aloud. “But is it safe for me to presume that you already have an answer?”

“Pretty much,” you casually answer, but you still sounding quite sure of yourself. It sends his heart, mind, and body into a hopeful frenzy. “But as you said, it’s only been 5 days. I still have 2 more days left before my deadline hits and I’m taking all the time I’ve given myself.”

That cheeky tone of yours doesn’t go amiss. In normal Ramshackle fashion, you’re going to keep him at his wits’ end for your own amusement. He doesn’t know if he should feel more annoyed or more enchanted by you. Perhaps a mix of both? Truly, only you can make him feel this way.

“Honestly,” he shakes his head in disbelief. “You are by far the most troublesome human I’ve ever met.”

He halts his hurried pace. And you do as well. He grasps your still intertwined hands together with his other hand, holding it carefully like they were as fragile as glass. Your skin is covered in scars, both recent and old, that came from years of foraging and enduring the natural difficulties of mother nature. However, to him, these permanent markings are more precious than the rarest gem or the finest silk. Your hand is neither too large nor too small within his. It sits just right within his grasp like they were made for him to hold and caress as he is doing now.

“I suppose that makes you the person that you are,” he smiles down at you after letting out a curt laugh. “and it is you who I love and cherish immensely, with all that I am and ever will be.”

Perhaps it is in poor taste to repeat the same words he first told you during his initial confession, but there are no other words he could weave together that can equally convey to you the extent of his feelings other than these. He knows he’s getting ahead of himself. He knows that he’s agreed to abide by the time you’ve asked of him. His words are his bond, literally and figuratively.

He’s just so damn in love with you. He’s willing to act a bit more reckless than he usually is just to expedite the days where he can have you by his side and be together with you at last.

He barely catches it, but thanks to the quiet halls, he’s able to pick up the mumbled words you speak. “You’re making me lose my sense of patience, dammit.”

“Young master!” Sebek’s booming voice echoes down the hallways before Malleus can press your comment further on. His impending presence is enough to make you let go of one of him and take a step back to set some space between you and him. “Where are you?!”

He was much closer than he sounded, as you and Sebek nearly topple over each other when you both turn down the same corner. Thankfully, Malleus acts quickly enough and catches you before you could fall to the ground, and you thank him shortly after you’ve righted yourself up.

Malleus looks up at Sebek and asks, “Why on earth are you sprinting down the halls?”

“The human has failed to respond to Sir Lilia’s message, so he sent me to retrieve you both!” Sebek states, a bit too loudly for your liking as you click your tongue and rub your temples to relieve the growing headache. Malleus has assured you that Sebek’s volume is something you’ll grow accustomed to. It seems the day has yet to come.

“Well, we’re here,” you halfheartedly try to reassure the boy. “So can you please use your inside voice?”

“You!” now it was Sebek’s eyes nearly pop out of their sockets. “Did I not give you an hour-long lecture on proper attire for the occasion?! Today is Master Malleus’s birthday, and you look no different from what you look like any other day!”

“What?!” you look at his retainer with utter bewilderment. “I am dressed up! I even went out and bought a damn blazer just to fall in line with your strict rules!”

“You’re not wearing it properly!” Sebek gestures to your rolled-up sleeves and the two undone buttons of your dress shirt. “Honestly, I expected better conduct from you, prefect!”

“Just shut up and walk, Zigvolt!” you fume and push the young fae down the hall, ignoring his continuous strings of scoldings and high expectations of you. “I’m not in the mood!”

You turn back to Malleus, who silently follows a few steps behind Sebek and you ahead of him. Malleus has to bite his tongue as you make a choking gesture, most likely directed towards Sebek, with one of your hands. He puts his hand up in defense, not wanting to get involved in your ongoing argument with his retainer. Whenever you and Sebek are together, willingly or otherwise, the two of you often butt heads. Your arguments are never too serious. Malleus knows that if he gives you two some space, you’ll both work out whatever it is you’re arguing about and go back to respectfully tolerating each other as per usual.

He wants to ask you about this supposed lecture Sebek gave you about how you should dress. It sounds equally intriguing as it does ridiculous. Unlike Sebek, he thinks you’re dressed rather well tonight.

The scent of roses in your hair is proof enough that you’ve taken some of Sebek’s words to heart, even if he says otherwise.

The food is delicious despite its unusual colors. The cake, although baked by Lilia, was fluffy and not overly sweet like you expected it to be. Your biggest fear of the night was walking into a dorm full of faes who are just as headache-inducing and strict as Sebek is, but thankfully there’s only one of him in the entire dorm! Some students were still standoffish and threw you a few too many nasty looks than you would normally tolerate. Thankfully, there were some students you remember helping out of their dubious contract with Azul during exams week and welcomed you with open arms. They followed you around like a bunch of ducklings, eagerly insisting you try some dishes they specifically made for tonight’s festivities. Whether they genuinely admired you or simply wanted to make even with you for your help, they are a pleasant distraction from your interactions with Malleus earlier.

Love is a strange thing. Unlike a deer, you can’t predict its next movements or manipulate it to a point of disadvantage. Whether you love someone poorly or properly, love isn’t the same across the board. The love you have for your ghostly dorm mates back in ramshackle is comparable to the love you have for your family, precious and irreplaceable. You can share the same sentiments for your flourishing entourage of forest animals you take care of. You even have a bit of love for Grim, even if he wears your patience thin every other day with his dim-witted cockiness.

You’ve been in a few relationships before, but they went nowhere meaningful. They were relationships built upon a foundation of opportunity and convenience, not of mutual affection and a desire for lifelong companionship. You’re also a creature of habit, so the idea of breaking your hard-fought routines puts you on edge, even if it’s for someone you care about. There’s also the fact that you’ve sworn to yourself to not get too involved with the people in this strange world. You don’t want anyone, or even yourself, to feel saddened or at a loss when it comes time for you to depart. You don’t want to inconvenience anyone if you can avoid it. When you return home, you just want to brush this entire experience off as a long and complex dream.

But how can you brush someone like Malleus off as a figment of your imagination? How can you simply forget all those nights you spent talking with him, laughing with him, genuinely connecting and bonding with another person outside your immediate family for the first time in a long while? How can you continue to tell yourself that you won’t get too involved or become attached to anyone in this twisted world after you’ve gone and fallen in love with one of its inhabitants?

You love Malleus, truly, wholeheartedly, and for far longer than you initially thought. You love him, but not to a blind point where you cannot realize that loving him isn’t as simple as acting upon your innermost desire. Even if the feelings you have for one another are mutual, what then? What will a relationship with a fae, a royal fae, entail? Few think highly of humans. Sebek is a living example that there are even faes who actively dislike and look down upon humans. Malleus is at the very top of the social hierarchy, while you are on the very bottom; a magicless human from a completely different world. That’s another problem! What happens once the way back to your home is finally unearthed?

You love Malleus, but no matter how you look at it, a relationship with him sounds nothing more than an outlandish fairytale. Your friendship with him is still a rather delicate issue. You aren’t particular about what others think of your involvement with him, but he can’t exercise the same amount of dismissal of public opinion as you do. He  has  to worry about what others think of him, because eventually he’s going to be king, and a king can’t flourish if his people think ill of him.

It makes you wonder why he fell in love with you, the most perilous person he could have ever met and involved in his delicate lifestyle.

“Having fun over here?” A playful voice interrupts your deep thinking. Lilia has one of his arms thrown over your shoulder, a gloved hand firmly squeezing you for comfort and bringing you closer to his side.

Despite his petite stature and his boyish looks, you knew from the moment you locked eyes with him on the first day of the school year that he was much older and wiser than he let on. In fact, he’s old enough that he’s been mentioned in a few footnotes in a history book or two. You even cited him as a source for a thesis essay just for a few laughs. He even has a copy in his room. It wouldn’t surprise you if he has it framed and hung on his wall. He’s a very sentimental man.

“Do you need a moment to breathe?” he asks, concern discernible in his voice.

“If it’s not too much trouble,” you plead.

“Not at all,” he nods assuringly before excusing him and yourself from the small group of boys you’ve been entertaining for the past hour. He leads you out to a quiet balcony and you bask in the cool night air once the doors behind you are closed. Once outside, you take in a much-needed deep breath and lean yourself against the balustrade railing. He quickly excuses himself again and returns with two flutes filled with a bubbly drink.

“What is this?” you ask, swirling the contents around with caution.

“It’s champagne,” he answers.

You give a quick sniff. It certainly smells like it. “Isn’t everyone here too young to drink?”

“Yes.” He clinks his glass against yours before throwing you a cheeky wink. “But we aren’t.”

That’s good enough of an explanation to have you down the much-needed alcohol in one shot. Lilia takes careful sips instead, but once he finishes his drink, he heads back and brings the entire bottle of bubbly wine for you to finish with him. It’s been a while since the two of you drank together. Lilia has an expensive palette, so you’ve quickly learned to cherish each selection he brings for these monthly get-togethers.

You gesture to the dark bottle. “How old is this?”

“Half a decade. Nothing too fancy,” he tells you while pouring himself another glass. “It’s certainly better than whatever it is you brought last time we got together.”

“Unlike you, I like a little kick in my drinks,” you explain.

“Well, I’m not exactly fond of the sensation of my throat burning up with searing pain,” As if you emphasize his point, he massages around his small Adam’s apple. “No wonder you’re so rough around the edges.”

“That’s a low blow and you know it Vanrouge,” you pour the last bit of champagne in your glass before setting the bottle down by your feet.

“How low?”

”Right in my gut.”

“Then I suppose I’ll need to make it up to you over another bottle,” he subtlety suggests. “Are you in the mood for anything in particular?”

“Not really,” you shrug. “Nothing too strong. I’d rather not get hammered in front of a bunch of teenagers.”

He offers a bottle of red wine he’s been meaning to pop open for a while and you accept without a fuss. He takes the empty bottle of wine and tells you to hang tight while he gets the next one. You’re left alone for a few minutes before someone enters the area and settles right next to you. It’s Malleus, who looks just as out of sorts as you certainly look and feel.

“Needed a moment to breathe?” you ask.

“Yes, but I also noticed you were missing and came to find you,” he admits. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you smile reassuringly at him. “Just out of my element a bit.”

“I’m sorry,” he looks so downtrodden that it makes your heart sink. “I had every intention of being close by you for most of the evening, but I’ve been busy speaking with the others that I-“

“Hey, relax!” you stop him before he can devolve any further. “Today’s your day, not mine. Besides,” you lift your empty glass for him to see. “Lilia is keeping me company.”

“Why is it that whenever I see you two together, there’s alcohol involved?”

“In my defense, he’s the one who offered,” you explain, but he doesn’t seem that convinced or assured. “It’s been a while since I’ve had champagne! And it’s a special occasion!”

“I’m not opposed to you drinking, but after what happened last time, I can’t exactly trust you two to pace yourselves or get your hands on something far too potent than either of you can handle.”

He’s talking about the last time you and Lilia drank. You’re not sure what it is the old man brought, but whatever it was, neither of you could stop drinking it even after you two were well past your limits. You both blacked out early in the evening and woke up with one of the worst hangovers in your life. Malleus knew well beforehand that you and his caretaker drank together. He’s even joined a few of your drinking sessions, despite not being fond of alcohol himself. But he certainly did not expect to deal with not only one, but two easily agitated and out of touch individuals the next day.

You still don’t know what was in that bottle.

“Malleus!” A newly arrived Lilia perks up when he sees the man of the hour next to you. “Have you come to drink with us?”

“I’m afraid not,” he answers, immediately followed by the two of you whining in disappointment. “Seriously, what is it with you two and alcohol?”

“You make it sound like we’re alcoholics. Which we aren’t!” you protest, eagerly watching as Lilia opens the bottle and pours you both the first glass of many more to come. “We only get together like this once a month.”

“We used to share a few glasses once a week at some point,” Lilia says as he hands your drink. “But that’s a bit too frequent for these old bones.”

“Says the man that downed half a dozen bottles of beer back in September,” you purposely bring up.

“I didn’t know it was alcohol!” Lilia shrills. “If I did, I would have paced myself better.”

You look over to Malleus and shake your head in disapproval. Your action makes him chuckle, and the urge to fidget with the stem of your glass comes down on you. He really does a great laugh. You’re not sure if it’s your genuine feelings or the alcohol that’s making your heartbeat faster after hearing it. For the sake of your sanity, you’re just going to blame the wine for making you feel more infatuated than usual.

As you and Lilia steadily empty another bottle together, the older fae feels compelled to tell you a story or two about Malleus when he was younger. Despite the latter’s protests, you insist and listen intently about the many times Malleus singed Lilia’s hair as a baby with his fire hiccups or the few instances he’s gotten lost on his quest to sightsee every single gargoyle around the castle. It’s never a proper birthday party without a relative sharing embarrassing baby stories with random guests.

After the second battle goes empty, Malleus suddenly asks you if you would like to walk around the dorm grounds for some much-needed air, Since he’s the birthday boy, you agree right off the bat, only after you get a glass of water in you to help stave off the wine a bit. Lilia gently reminds you both not to stay out for too long, otherwise, Sebek’s worrisome nature might get the better of him and he’ll put together a makeshift search party. If you hadn’t had a few glasses of wine, you wouldn’t have found Lilia’s comment as funny as you did at the moment. You’re a tad tipsy, but not drunk enough that you feel yourself acting or thinking too out of character or lose your sense of balance and trip over your own two feet.

“So, where are we going birthday boy?” you nudge him with your elbow. “Are you going to push me into that thorn bush now?”

“But of course,” he laughs. “I just wish for further respite, that’s all.”

Just as you’re about to mention that people usually like to step away from a crowd by themselves, you feel his smooth fingers interlock with your hand once again. He takes you around the back of the dorm where the expansive and well-attended hedge garden is located. The dark-colored bushes are blanketed in blankets of snow, and more green fires are flickering atop the lantern poles lined along the stone pathways. It’s been a while since the two of you went on a nightly stroll like this. They started out as either you or Malleus running into each other by pure chance and just going along with the lucky encounters. Soon your run-ins became much more intentional and a regular part of your schedules.

He’s the first to break the silence. “May I ask you a strange question?”

“Of course you can,” you nod your head, admiring the wooden gazebo the two of you have now settled underneath for a moment. “Isn’t that why we go on these walks, to ask each other a bunch of odd questions?”

It goes without saying that, due to your racial differences, there were a lot of questions burning in each of your minds about your differing ways of life and upbringings. Most of your questions were innocent and came from a place of wanting to learn and take into consideration his boundaries as a fae. As you grew more comfortable with each other, thus more open and honest, the more comfortable you felt to ask him more personable questions. However, you usually have to answer your own question first before he gives his response in return. You find that this is usually the case when conversing with a Fae. They won’t give until you give back something of equal value.

“In my defense, your blunt answers are refreshing,” he admits, almost gratefully. “No one other than Lilia speaks to me with such genuine honesty. Yet even then, he tends to shroud his words in some layer of vagueness.”

“My aunts were like that when I first moved in with them. Something about ‘learning things on your own,” you recollect. “But I was really quiet and withdrawn when I first moved in with them. They had to lead me by the hand and pummel me with lots of encouragement just to get me to do basic things.”

“You and the concept of quietness don’t mix well together,” Malleus laughs. “In fact, much of how you describe yourself as a child doesn’t seem to match up to how you behave now.”

His comment, while true and most likely just a casual observation, is treading into somewhat dangerous territory for you. “You really pay attention to everything I say, don’t you?” you comment in an attempt to divert the conversation elsewhere.

“I do,” he admits with an unashamed expression “But seeing as you now know of all of my embarrassing mishaps as a child, I think it’s only fair that I get to hear a story or two about yours.”

He leans closer to you, something you normally do to him whenever he gets all quiet and reluctant to say what’s on his mind. You don’t exactly mind telling Malleus about your early childhood, but it’s not as grandiose or as pleasant as he may think it is. What’s a friendship without revealing a few stories about your crappy childhood to each other? What happened to you is unfortunate, and you’re not ashamed to talk about it, not anymore at least. Considering the state of your friendship with him and the ongoing issue about whether you’re going to pursue something more with him or not, you’re not too sure if sharing stories of your past should be preserved for later or if doing so now is alright.

“Can I ask you something first?” you hesitantly ask.

“Anything.”

You turn your body towards him more, easily noticing the way he sits up a little more straight. The faint chirps of crickets and windswept leaves fill the silent void you’ve set in place. He remains quiet, tightening his grip around your hand, still interlocked with his, brushing the back of it with the thumb of his other. The gesture is small, but it’s obviously his way of letting you know that he’s patiently waiting and encouraging you to take all the time you need to sort your thoughts out. He’s looking at you with that concerned expression of his. The one he makes when he feels as though he’s made some sort of mistake or said something that was ill-spoken against you.

He tends to critical of himself, only because there is a lot of expectation set upon his shoulders for someone of his station. It is during moments like this that you understand what Lilia meant when he says Malleus still has much to learn and experience before he can truly take on the mantle of a king. He may be many decades older than you, but his maturity is probably not too far from your own; well put together than most, but still in need of opportunities to grow and learn some more.

That’s the purpose of these walks, to learn and grow from each other. All it takes is a question. But your question, the one that has been swirling in your mind for days, isn’t as innocent as wondering if his horns have nerve endings or not.

Your teeth are on the verge of biting your tongue hard enough to draw blood when finally, you will yourself to ask the burning question on your mind.

“What do you plan to get out of a relationship with me?”

He’s visibly taken aback by your question. If you squint really hard, your question is almost an affirmation that his feelings towards you are mutual, but it is only a minuscule part of a much greater whole. There can not, will not, be any do-overs for either of you. Before you pass a point where there is no return, you need to make sure neither of you is setting yourself up for disaster later down the line. You love Malleus, but you will not tell him what your genuine feelings are just to make him feel better. If word gets out about your relationship and it’s ill-received by his family or, heaven forbid, his own people, you’d never forgive yourself. Becoming King of the Valley of Thorns is his only desire in life. You couldn’t possibly understand why he would want to put himself into such a demanding position. You still don’t understand, but he remains firm that becoming king is what he truly desires in the entire world.

You’d rather die with these unpursued feelings of yours than to allow yourself to be the reason he loses his unwavering purpose in life.

“A relationship, with you,” he tests the words, the very concept, out loud. As if he’s trying to gauge the reaction of the world itself. “It certainly wouldn’t be a dull one.”

That look he gives you, the one that is so painstakingly painted in so much love and affection that can give you several tooth-rotting cavities, directed to none other than you, makes your heart do all sorts of acrobatic twirls and lunges. Your hands seek out the nearest object to fidget with, a piece of hair that fell out of place from your hairstyle. There’s a moment of panic that overcomes him and he goes to pull his hand out of your firm grip, but you tighten it just before his hand can slip away. You like holding his hand, you realize.

“Something’s troubling you,” he remarks. “Whatever it is, tell me.”

“This isn’t the best time to bring it up,” you argue. It really isn’t. Not when there’s alcohol in your body that makes you incredibly pessimistic and impulsive. And it’s his birthday. You really don’t want to make this day suddenly about you. You’re slowly regretting having that second bottle.

“Perhaps not, but it’s going to be brought up eventually, I imagine.” He gently cups the side of your face and forces you to look up at him, right into those green eyes that have always mesmerized you. “Speak to me,” he insists once more.

“I…” you start, but the words die in your mouth before you can speak them. There’s an instance where you nearly pull away from him and are ready to just book it back to your dorm and forget this ever happened, but he keeps you in place almost desperately. He wants you to speak your mind. He wants to know what’s eating up inside you. He wants you, all of you.

But like his desire to become king, you can’t understand why it’s you sitting across from him.

The edges of your vision wobble, and you know that if you’re pushed over the edge enough, you’re going to start sobbing. You hate crying, especially when you feel you don’t deserve to. Who are you to get all emotional when you’re the one who’s overcomplicating things? You’re the one who kick-started this conversation, so why are you the one getting all emotional? Shouldn’t Malleus be the one on the verge of breaking down? He’s the one with the most to lose. The most suffering you’ll likely be subjected to is a bunch of scrutinization and disapproval.

“You know this isn’t going to be easy, right?”

He reaches up with a folded handkerchief in hand, dabbing the corners of your tear-stricken eyes. “I know.”

“I can take a judgemental comment or two. I just don’t want you to be on that receiving end of it because of me.”

“People will always find something to pin blame on or direct their judgment towards, even if the detail is as insignificant as my decision to be with a human.” he calmly explains. It almost pisses you off that he’s remaining calm through all this while you’re going through many ranges of emotions. Malleus is a prince, and it's fragile moments like these that he’s been carefully taught how to navigate and work through. Now you’re just mad at yourself for forgetting something so obvious and vital. Damn that second bottle of wine!

“I’m the worst human you could have picked,” you proclaimed with utmost certainty. “I’m not even from the same world as you. What the hell can I possibly offer you?”

“Well,” He leans even closer to you, closer than he’s ever purposely been and you’re almost compelled to move away from him due to your nervousness. There was a brief moment where you thought that he might kiss you, that’s how little space there is between you and him. While a kiss from him sounds both amazing and absolutely terrifying, you let out an audible sigh of relief when he stops at pressing his forehead against yours. “What are you willing to give me?”

Oh, he’s slick and he knows it. The answer is so obvious now. You’ve made it obvious well before your first glass of champagne. You’re practically wearing your heart on your sleeves, but it’s not enough for him. He wants you to say it out loud so that what he assumes is mutual is in fact irrefutable. He won’t settle for anything less, you’re sure of it.

“All I can give you is my love,” you offer, in a hushed, almost embarrassed manner. “If you’ll have it. If it’s what you want.”

“It is,” he answers immediately, without a shred of doubt or hesitancy. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted from you.”

If this is truly all he wants from you, then he can have it. He can have every bit of it.

“Are you sure you can make it back to Ramshackle without issue?”

“I’ll be fine,” you reassure him for likely the 20th time. “I’m not that buzzed, and you look just as tired as I am.”

You’re right. Malleus is well beyond himself now. His social batteries are thoroughly drained. He needs a nice, long rest to fully process this long evening.

As he thinks about his conversation with you under the gazebo, he reaches out and tenderly caresses the side of your face. Your hands immediately reach up to tug and twist one of your shirt buttons. He once thought your habit to fidget with the nearest object meant you were uncomfortable. A dainty smile etches into his face now that he knows that this habit of yours was a sign that you were flustered by his actions.

He thinks it’s an adorable habit and very befitting of your person.

“What?” you look up at him with a nervous gaze. “Is there something on my face?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “Your face is all clean.”

Despite his statement, you wipe at your puffy eyes to ensure there are no visible tears left. Would you think him strange if he told you he finds you endearing like this, your eyes somewhat droopy and your voice hushed despite the lack of need to control your volume? You probably would, but your presumed disdain wouldn’t stop him even if you told him off. He can’t help it. He’s drunk as well, though not because of any wine.

“Are you busy this weekend?” you say into his open palm.

“Not particularly.”

“Good,” you smile against his skin. “I have a surprise for you.”

“Do you now?” He looks at you, intrigued by the sudden presentation of a surprise for him. “Is it safe to assume this surprise is my present?”

“Yup, it’s your birthday present,” you admit. “I found something on the island that you’ll absolutely love. The walk is long, but trust me, it’ll be worth it.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” he says, beaming as he thinks about where exactly you’re going to take him. You have a knack for finding interesting spots on the island. Whatever this hidden wonder is, you seem quite confident that it’ll trump all the others.

“Meet me early in the morning, and dress warmly. It’s going to snow a bit.” you disclose before regrettably pulling away from him. “Goodnight, and happy birthday!” you call out to him one last time.

“Thank you! Please be careful on your way back!” he pleads, but you’ve already passed through the mirror back to the college’s main campus. Hopefully, you heard him. If not, he can always send you a letter through his charmed envelope or message you over the phone.

When he returns to his room to dress down and ready himself for bed, he finds that his desk is occupied by a hefty pile of presents that he had yet to open. While they vary in size, most are wrapped in identical gift wrapping and bows. Presents on the larger scale are fully exposed and have a card set over top of it or tucked in between the gift wherever possible.

He opens some gifts before calling it a night, specifically the smaller-sized ones. Most of them are centered on his skill for stringed instruments; new violin strings, fresh rosin for his bow, and even some sheet music for songs he’s never played before. If it weren’t so late, he’d practice a few stanzas. It’s probably best if he saves his awkward first time playing for another day.

Perhaps he can play for you someday? However, the mere thought of more physical activity causes a surge of tiredness throughout his body and he lets out a deep, bellowing yawn. Playing as host for his own party required much more listening than conversing than he had initially expected. He was also juggling his attention from his guests to you, who was always across the room from where he found himself. There’s a great divide in opinions regarding your friendship with him that, unfortunately, skews more negatively rather than positively. He cannot speak for all faes, but he did not want you to develop any poor opinions or experiences with his people, especially his dorm mates. Seeing the small group of first years keeping you company and even show a bit of reverence towards you was assuring.

You deserve as much praise and admiration as he receives, for you are someone who has well earned his respect and his love.

You weren’t exaggerating when you told him to dress warmly. Malleus doesn’t hate the cold, but he can’t say he likes the way it bites and numbs his minimally exposed skin. Thankfully, the coat you made for him helps stave off the cold rather well. Now if only his gloves could do the same for his needle-pricking fingers.

“Your master sure has the gall to leave me waiting outside in this weather.” He looks down at Gunter, the pack leader of your small bunch of wolves. He doesn’t seem bothered by the snow at all, what with his thick winter coat protecting him from the cold air and the scarf he wears around his neck. Not only did you think to make and put on a scarf for the rugged canine, you even secured it by tying the ends into a neat bow. “I wonder where exactly they’re taking me. Perhaps you have a clue?”

Gunter turns away from Malleus, as if to tell him he’s sworn to total secrecy on your behalf. Malleus can’t help but reach down and pat him on the top of his head. Loyal without a fault. He can see why you keep the wild dog around.

“Are you trying to interrogate my wolf?” He jumps a bit at your unannounced and undetected arrival. He didn’t even hear the crunching of snow and rocks from your heavy boots as you snuck up behind him. If he were wild game, he’d likely have a bullet lodged in his heart by now. “Whatever you promise him, it won’t work. He’s pretty tight-lipped.”

“I can see that,” he quips back. “Are the others staying behind?”

“They can’t stand the cold. Not like this one can,” you explain to him while proudly scratching behind the wolf’s fluffy ears. “The woods are still dangerous, even during the winter. He’ll scout ahead and let us know if we need to change directions and chase off any predators. I also promised I’d share some of our food if he came along, so there’s that.”

“You prepared food for us?”

“Of course I did!” you jostle your pack basket to reiterate your statement. “Did you really think I wouldn’t feed you?”

“You never fail to stuff me with food, so no, I didn’t think you wouldn’t,” he laughs. “Besides, without me, you’d end up with more leftovers than you’d know what to do with.”

“I lived with 11 people back home,” you grunt as you push open the metal gates that enclose the front of the Ramshackle dorm. “So what if I make too much food? You’re really pushing it for someone who gobbles it up all the same.”

“I rather enjoy the way you flavor your meals,” he remarks. “And you know that I’m very particular about my food.”

“Is that why you want me around?” you inquire with a cheeky grin. “So I can satisfy that silver-spooned appetite of yours?”

“What about you?” he questions back with just as much playfulness. “Without me, you’d have no gardening partner.”

“Damn,” you kick a twig and it tumbles down a small incline and into the half-frozen stream at the bottom. “and I thought I was being stealthy about it too.”

Malleus erupts into a loud fit of laughter, with you joining him as he sputters out how strange your shared senses of humor are. This right here. This is why he loves you. You just make him so damn happy! Your companionship and the bond you and him have built with each other is all he’s ever wanted, all he’s ever dreamed of since he was a young boy. There was a point in his life where he had nearly resigned himself to a life of loneliness. Now, look at him, out on a stroll with one of his closest friends. Although now you are not only his friend, you are now his partner as well.

His partner. His.

He involuntarily reaches over and squeezes your hand in his small bout of prideful possession. His enamored smile must have caught your attention as you reach out and poke the side of his face with your free hand.

“And just what are you thinking about, your highness ?"

He has to hold back the snort that he nearly lets out. How kind of you to layout the perfect opportunity to tease you. “Why, I’m thinking about you, of course,” he says, throwing a wink in for added measure.

You let out a huff of air that turns misty as your warm breath mixes and condenses in the cool air. “You should think of something else,” you retort, pulling the hood of your dark cloak closer to your face to cover the side that Malleus can see without strain.

“You seem a bit flustered,” Malleus continues to tease you.

“And you sure are talkative this morning,” you harshly say, but he knows it’s only because he’s “pushing your buttons" as you would say. You do it plenty of times towards him and your friends. This is nothing but well-deserved revenge for all those times you push him and get him all flustered. He’ll need to watch his back in the future. You won’t let him get away with this, not without avenging yourself first.

Oh, if only humans and Faes could get along as well as you two have. Malleus was born right at the end of the last war between his people and many defunct human nobility houses. Relations with the remaining human nobility are better with passaging time, but there is much room for improvement before there can ever truly be a declared peace between both species. A relationship between a human and fae is hardly anything new, the interaction between the two races as old as time itself. As overly optimistic and opportunistic as it surely sounds, he hopes that his relationship with you, no matter how it works out in the end, can be a proper example to his people and onlookers of any other kind than the harmony they once had with humans is still obtainable.

“What you said the other day,” he suddenly mentions. “I feel it would be in poor taste if I didn’t fully address the concerns you clearly have about us regarding my status as a member of the nobility.”

At the mention of your conversation a couple of days ago, your hand grips around tight around him for a moment. “I don’t like facing too many uncertainties,” you admit. “It probably sounds weird, but I do better in situations I have some control over. Being with you. Well, for lack of better words, it scares the living daylight out of me the more I think about it. I don’t even think you know what’s in store for both of us the further we get into this.”

“I have some idea, but to say that I fully understand what’s at stake would be untruthful,” he admits as well. When the court eventually finds out about who he has taken as his partner, he will receive some amount of scrutiny and his decision will be heavily questioned. "However, that would happened no matter who I chose to be with, so long as the person was not someone the court saw as diplomatically advantageous."

“Have you even told anyone about us yet?”

“No. Not even Lilia knows, but I'm sure he has an inkling by now,” he expresses. “As childish as this may sound, but I’d like to keep our relationship a secret as long as possible.”

“And when people start to connect the dots, what then?”

“The only way they’ll confirm their suspicions is to confront either one of us,” he answers matter-of-factly. “But whatever difficulties may be lined up for me in the future. So long as you’re by my side to support me, I'll endure whatever it is that is put forth in front of me."

“You’re right, you sound really childish,” you sigh. “But you also sound so damn sure yourself,” you grumble under your breath, but his pointed ears pick up on your comment despite your hushed volume. “I can’t say I feel the same way just yet. But I hope that, whatever comes up, we can do what we always do and just… talk it out.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he smiles. “After all, isn’t that the purpose for these walks of ours? So we may work through these difficult conversations with each other?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, a clear lopsided smile on your lips despite you not facing directly towards him. “I guess they are.”

Just as Malleus is about to say something else, you suddenly stop when a distant howl sounds. “We’re close,” you tell him.

“Now, where exactly are you taking me?” he finally asks you.

“Sorry,” you shake your head. “I can’t tell you just yet.”

“Not even after I asked so politely?”

“Nope!” you beam.

Still curious about this supposed wonder you’re escorting to, he continues to pester you with questions, trying to pull some sort of hint out of you. You’re not usually as tight-lipped as you are now. Your persistent secrecy only excites him the further you two travel.

Apparently, what you constitute as nearby is much further than what he would consider close. While still within the woods, he can faintly hear ocean waves crashing and a few seabirds cawing about. You’re taking him towards the southern part of the isle, clear by his now unbutton coat because of the warmer temperatures and the tuffs of green grass poking out through the half-melted snow the further you take him. The place finally appears before him, with tall brick walls and a metal gate, both of which are covered in thick, frosted ivy leaves. He can make out of a few shapes past the gate, but not enough to confidently guess what they are exactly.

“Will you tell me now?” Malleus asks once more while you busy yourself by giving Gunter some well-deserved ear scratches.

“What do you think?” you look down and ask Gunter. He makes a deep grunting sound in response to your question. “I guess you’re right,” you nod in understanding before looking up towards Malleus and saying, “The locals call it a gargoyle graveyard.”

“Gargoyles?” he says with clear excitement, like a young boy being told that a pile of candies and toys awaits him in the other room. "You took me out to see gargoyles?"

“Yes, but also no,” you say. “They would have been if they weren’t sculpted incorrectly.”

“So it’s a place where inoperable gargoyles are put?” he asks, still intruiged.

“The family who owns this piece of land mentioned that they also put gargoyles in here that were made purely for art’s sake,” you added. “But can it really be called a gargoyle if they weren’t made to act as a gutter in the first place?”

Malleus’s heart always skips and beats faster whenever he’s around you. That last comment you made nearly stopped his heart altogether. He once had a conversation with Silver regarding the stark difference between gargoyles and statues. The boy couldn’t fully grasp the difference, but it seems you can right out of the blue. By the Great Seven, is your ability to tell the difference between a purposeful gargoyle and a mere decorative grotesque really what’s making him go red in the face?

Yes. Yes, it is.

You easily notice this as well, as you comment how his complexion is almost the shade of a ripe tomato, although you’ve been busying yourself with undoing the many locks and chains secured around the front gate and didn’t even look over to him since. “I can see the tips of your ears getting all pink in my peripheral,” you explain with a hint of laughter arising in your voice. You’re clearly amused by all this. “Who knew my basic understanding of gargoyles is enough to set a fire in your loins!”

“Must you tease me at every opportunity?” he groans. "And so crudely too."

“What? Are you having second thoughts about me?” you jokingly ask.

“Somewhat,” he answers back, though it’s only a half-serious answer.

You toss aside the last chainlink and rusted lock keeping the front gate secured before saying, “I won’t be mad if you bail out now. It’ll save Sebek the future anguish when he finds out.”

“Sebek is already at odds with our friendship as it is,” Malleus clarifies. “Besides, I think the boy is rather endearing when he’s upset.”

“Endearing,” you mockingly repeat. “More like a pain in my ass.”

“Give him some time. He’ll grow on you,” Malleus encourages.

“For your sake, he better,” you glare at him for a moment. “Alright, that’s enough relationship talk for the day. These gargoyles won’t ogle themselves!”

No, they won’t, and it’s music to his ears that you want to appreciate them together.

Together, with him.

[mythicaldemigoddess-of-deltarune]

Crossover Yandere Delta Warriors And Kris’s Three Souls

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

Credit for Steven Universe Series goes to Rebecca Sugar

Credit for Deltarune & Undertale goes to Toby Fox

Credit for Hazbin Hotel & Helluva Boss goes to Vivienne “Vivziepop” Medrano & Spindlehorse

Credit for Yandere Simulator goes to YandereDev

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

I do plan to post this drawing at the other place I post fan art at.

also the reason why Ayano has different color eyes,

has to do with the Genocide Route, Neutral Route and True Pacifist Route of Yandere Simulator.

like depending how we play, if we go full Geno-Route

our eyes, well Ayano’s eyes....become Red.

but if we befriend a rival and help other students, and not kill anyone in yandere simulator.....

Ayano’s eyes will become blue.

why Sans is wearing Steven Universe’s clothes and Pink Steven being right next to him should be obvious.

it has to do with Sans and Steven being one in the same.

and when the Human Half of Steven died, he was reborn as Sans

but the gem half that makes “Pink-Steven” reforms but Human-Steven is not close by and most likely left to maybe to go live with his new family, his new Dad that speaks in hands and his new little brother Papyrus.

the dark purple soul belongs to Knight, the light turquoise blue soul belongs to Kris, and the Red Soul belongs to the Player.

I believe that before the Player’s Red Soul ends up in Deltarune (in Chapter 1), the Knight who is the Dark Purple Soul had made Kris’s life miserable by pulling dark pranks on others, even if Kris could pull some pranks....they would not willingly cross the line, that would be the Knight’s doing.

yeah I have a theory that the Knight had done dark pranks by making Kris do them and making everyone believe it was Kris, while technically it was but at the same time it was against Kris’s will.

think about it, we never did any of those dark pranks that those in Deltarune mention.

so it makes sense that it is the work of the Knight, who’s soul has been controlling Kris before we got there.

and the only time Knight does take control,

is when they are about to do something sneaky and they rip our soul from Kris’s body and the reason why Kris doesn’t fight back is because the Knight is much stronger than them.

it is possible that the only time we are stronger than the Knight, is during the day time in the Lightner’s World and when we are in the Dark World.

but once Nighttime happens, the Knight has the power to control Kris and pull us the Players.

so if this is true, this means that Kris has two souls in them trying to fight for control.....one being the villain known as the “Knight”

and the other being us the Player, the Red Soul.

I see that as fan headcanon.

in theory if the Crystal Gems and Connie, didn’t know that Steven died and became Sans.....

like it happen some time after the end of Steven Universe Future.

Sans might have Alphys help with that, by cloning a homunculus steven body, that the Pink-Steven will be put in and make it so that no one knows Steven had died and became a Magical Talking Skeleton.

well that could be one way to keep the Crystal Gems, Connie, Greg and everyone else from Beach City from finding out what happen to Steven....if he had died off-screen and was brought back to life by Gaster as Sans.

I would like to see a crossover fan art with the meme

Gaster: *hugging Sans* stay away from my Son. 

Greg Universe: but he’s my Son!!

Gaster:.........Stay Away From YOUR Ex-Son......who is now MY Son.

even if we love Steven Universe

(and some of us do love Steven Universe Future)

at least we now know now that the Steven Universe Future,

was NOT the start of Steven’s problems......it was just the boiling point.         

Greg was not a great dad, something we should of seen from the start of the first Season but couldn’t.

I plan to re-watch the first series of Steven Universe, to really watch it

and notice the stuff that we never truly notice before....

like even if the Crystal Gems did make some mistakes with how they treated Steven most of the time during his childhood.

and Amethyst did start to become a better big sister to Steven,

like with the whole finding out his Mom is Pink Diamond.

even if not a lot of fans liked Steven Universe Future, because of different reasons....

but we have to acknowledge the problem Steven was having didn’t start in the Steven Universe Future.....it started in the first series.

even if Steven had his good days, he did end up with trauma and he didn’t see a doctor until Steven Universe Future....

which you can thank his “Ex-Dad Greg” for that.

most families have excuses for not being able to go to a doctor.

after becoming rich, Greg could of hired Steven a tutor

and send him to school.....though I don’t think you have to be rich to do that.....at least I don’t think so.

but we can’t place the blame on Steven, even if his Human and Gem Family loves him dearly....

it doesn’t help that Greg and Connie form a “Human Beings Club”

kind of excluding Steven and making him feel a type of negative emotion.

I believe what Steven was feeling when he also says “human beings.”

was a type of negative feeling, but like still wanting to be included in the human bonding that his Dad and Best Friend (Future Girlfriend) were having.

Greg was a bit disappointing in the episode where he took Steven to where his parents lived.....

just when Steven was becoming more better and even enjoyed finding out about his Dad’s past.....Greg only made things worse again,

when he couldn’t understand why his own son was upset with him.

 there might of been more to the story of Greg’s Parents than what Greg told so far.....it is possible that one of Greg’s parents had very sensitive hearing and couldn’t handle really loud music.

and Greg could of broke that rule many times and that is why his parents don’t allow any music in the house.

even if that episode tried to play that Greg was a victim, it might not be 100% true.....

yes Pink’s punishments were unjust at times, but we have to remember how bad she was before she given Earth.

so most of her punishments were just, meaning she deserved them.

while other times she didn’t deserve them at all.

the problem might be that both Greg’s Parents

and Blue & Yellow Diamond, would punish Greg and Pink even at times when they didn’t deserve it.....

but it could be that before they did start punishing them,

they let them get away with so much and one point both of them crossed a line that it became too much for Greg’s Parents and even Yellow & Blue, and they had no choice but to ground them

to Greg’s Room and Pink’s Tower.

once again the problem with Steven

didn’t start in Steven Universe Future,

it started at the very beginning in Steven Universe.

the the boiling point maybe started in the Steven Universe Movie,

then the breaking point started in the Steven Universe Future.

not all fans of Steven Universe, have to like Steven Universe Future.

I happen to love Steven Universe, Steven Universe Future and the Movie.

but we have to try to come to terms that the problems Steven was having, didn’t start in Steven Universe Future.

it started in Steven Universe, and even if not a lot of fans will accept that.....well it is their choice, and they should accept it by their own free will to.

I do plan to re-watch the first series to see if Steven had more than one bad experience which would of been one of the first problems he had before his breaking point in Steven Universe Future.

I know at first I thought of the Steven Universe Future

as the time he had his boiling point, but in correction it would be his breaking point that would get worse over time.

the boiling point would be the first stage, which would start in Steven Universe Future.....when more of his mother’s past misdeeds would come to light.

 the breaking point would slowly consume and get stronger for Steven, to the point where he would end up becoming Monster-Steven.

Steven becomes a gem monster because of all the negative emotions,

he only gets better once everyone realize what they didn’t do for him.

being there for him when he needs it.

at times we could pretend that everything is fine for others,

like acting like we are only a little sad but doing pretty okay now.

but that might not be for the best....even if we might think it is.

          Sans might be a future version of Steven,

who had gotten better and learned from his past, but could still hold on to some form of bitter memories.

like what if the one calling Connie, when Steven proposed to her...

wasn’t Connie’s Mom but was a Boy that Connie was Dating.

and she still liked Steven, but couldn’t bring herself to tell Steven.

well hopefully that isn’t true and that was just Connie’s Mom.

we know that a lot of fans were worried for their ship.

well the Sadie and Lars Ship had became the Friend Zone Ship.

meaning it went from “I Ship It” to “I Bud It”

Shep seems nice though, when I did first see them on the opening I didn’t know if they were a boy or a girl.....

but it turns out they are nonbinary, so it’s nice that the episode where they officially appeared on (as well as their bio.) had confirmed Shep’s identity.

I think I still need to figure out the whole Gyno-Agender

or Feminine-Nonbinary thing.....

I wonder how many fans of both Yandere Simulator and Undertale/Deltarune.....

would think that Fun-Girl from Yandere Simulator,

reminds them of Gaster....?

well Fun-Girl does remind me of Gaster, it be nice if both games did canon crossovers.

well there is that Yanderetale,

but maybe that is only Semi-Canon.....maybe?

there is another crossover drawing I did, that has to do with Undertale/Deltarune and even another game....

but I will wait until tomorrow to post it.

hope some of you like this drawing.

I wonder if it be weird to Crossover ship Sans x Collin....?  

I will think about it, but it might leave me a little sheepish. lol       

[spacecadetal]

fireworks

kakashi hatake/fem!reader

word count: 2774 warnings: descriptions of violence, descriptions of blood, descriptions of killing, alcohol use author notes: i wanted to write something a little different than i usually would i kinda got a little tired of my wips lol

the first time i saw him, i was eight years old with a shy curiosity about the world. long story short, his shoulder collided with my own. he wasn’t watching where he was going and neither was i, the hard jolt gave me such a fright that i yelled at him to watch where he was going. i had too much pride to admit i was at fault, lost in a daydream once again. he shared my reaction and my sentiment. saying i should watch myself too with great annoyance in his tone. i scoffed, he huffed, we went our separate ways.

i had always heard his name but never connected the dots until i was much older but still not much wiser. he was a prodigy, i was painfully just above average. as a bright eyed genin, i was out in the world and only starting to understand the true meaning of the path i chose at the naive age of six. his squad was babysitting my own on a mission. his mentor stands next to mine and introduces us and my face sours immediately. unlike him i don’t have a mask to hide it. he avoids me for the whole mission but his teammates are nice.

his red eye was making waves around the world, he was a myth and enemies across the land waited in anticipation for the day to come where they could finally see it in the flesh. great gain had come with great loss, i’m sure he wishes the second hand eye was back with its original owner. i remember the first time i saw him lift up his headband and expose it to the world. the blood red eye and it’s black swirls, chills shoot down my spine like pins and needles. engaging with an enemy was pure violence, animalistic and messy yet he made it seem so graceful. 

the pines and the dark forest disappear before my eyes; now he stands on a wooden stage with his foe, dancing under a spotlight. every dodge and weave is smooth and flawless. his strikes felt as natural and as quick as a snake striking at its prey. i watch his performance with a disregard for my own safety and when the last of our enemies hit the dirt, i wait for him to bow. instead he shakes the blood off his kunai and the famous eye is tucked away under his headband. i think i fell in love with him that afternoon.

the girl who died, her name was rin and that one time her team babysat mine, she braided my hair by a campfire and said i had a pretty name. she didn't deserve to die. they whisper about him when he walks by, terrible nasty things. but i smile at him, wave to him when i see him and hope it makes him feel less alone in the world. he sees it and he averts his gaze without reply or acknowledgement. rejection makes my chest tighten, if only slightly. naturally i assume he doesn’t like me, maybe he doesn’t like anyone. 

i'm in a village with my squad for a mission, it’s small but the green tea in the wooden cup and the smell of rabbit stew on the stovetop makes me feel at home. the excited teenage boy asks me about the things i've seen. the only thing he knows is chopping wood and shearing sheep. he asks me about a rumour he’s heard by a traveller about the boy that conjures lightning in his hand, he asks me if i've seen it before in the flesh. i smile and nod and confirm that i have. he asks me to describe it. i don't know how to at first.

first, you hear the static snapping and popping and it captures your attention instantly. then the pale blue light grows bigger and bigger in his hand, it takes on a life of its own and i won’t lie and say that it doesn’t make my heart beat out of my chest but he tames it like a wild beast, he has complete control. if you stand off to the side, you can watch the show. lightning surrounds him but he is never burnt. he’s like a god when he strikes, i've never seen something so terrifying but beautiful. he's beautiful. but i don’t tell the teenage boy that and i dont tell him that sometimes the loud crackle of his chidori haunts me when im alone. 

when i'm a chunnin, i feel much older than i am. it's not due to the title of my rank but because i keep plunging my kunai into grown men’s hearts and have to pretend it doesn’t faze me to see blood squirting from punctured arteries. i don't see him around the village much anymore. he lives in the darkness, in the shadows but sometimes he comes out into the light. he's grown so much older and taller and i think he looks handsome in his gear. toned arms and biceps and that tattoo on his left upper arm, the one that tells the world where his loyalties lie. walking past him, i prepare to feel the chill of his icy demeanor but i say his name, wave and smile. the only one of his eyes that sees the world widens and the veins of his arms bulge at my greeting, i can’t see his hands because they’re stuffed in his pockets. he always looks away but this time, for the smallest of seconds, he nods in my direction and then he is gone.

when the nine tailed beast attacks the village, i am kept away from the battle in a forest with the rest of the ninja around my age. he’s there, standing by his friend who talks and talks. i like his friend, he always greets me with enthusiasm. i try to ignore the sounds of my village being destroyed and the screams of the unfortunate dying people as i am powerless to do anything. my eyes move on their own in his direction only to find he has the same idea. for a moment, air leaves my lungs and i nod politely before i look away. his eyes meet mine one, two, three times. that night my home was buried under a mountain of rock and rubble and he lost the last person that knew the true extent of the damage this world had inflicted on him. 

the elderly lady at the stall with the hair clips told me i've grown into a beautiful young lady and i blush at her comment and insist it isn’t so. she tells me i must have a lot of boys' attention and i buy the deep blue hair clip with the faux sapphire gem. it stands out in my dark hair. it's been a long time since my house was crushed and a long time since he’s sat in the dango store with his friends but here’s there when i walk by. the compliment has me on cloud nine and i'm glad he’s not alone anymore. i smile at the group, say ‘ hey guys ’ and wave. for a millisecond my eye catches his as i'm walking by and my mind plays tricks on me. i think i see his cheeks tinge red.

kurenai came up to me one summer's morning and asked if i was attending the festival. i told her i was but likely alone. maybe i wasn’t such a pretty girl, no fish ever nibbled on the hook of the fishing pole i cast into the waters. her boyfriend looked bored as we spoke and her crimson eyes smile when she brings up the boy with the silver hair’s name, pretending she doesn’t notice my breath hitch for the slightest of moments. ‘ you should ask him, he’s not going with anyone either ’ she tells me and then she drags her boyfriend away. i sit alone on the cliffs for an hour thinking it through, my knees up to my chin as i wonder why she would suggest such a thing. iwashi is pissed that i'm twenty minutes late to meet up with them.

his group joins up with mine hours later and i greet him as i always do. he stands off to the side and plays with his hands and every time i catch his eye he looks as if he wants to say something to me. they say love feels like butterflies but when my eyes meets his, those butterflies turn into angry bees. i want to say something to him too, ask him where his friend got the idea that i should ask him to go with me but the bees within me sting and their venom prevents me from opening my mouth. i avert my gaze and pretend to listen to genma when he talks about his favourite order of ramen. 

we all part ways but we’re together again within the hour and i'm waiting nervously at the spot kurenai told me to come back to. my yukata is the colour of lapis and white periwinkles decorate the sleeves and i wonder if i look plain compared to the girls around me dressed in passionate pinks, gentle purples, and bold reds. he doesn’t see me at first but i see him. his yukata is dark grey with light thin stripes and it compliments his bright silver hair wonderfully. it’s the first time i've seen his hair down and his long strands are wild and stick out all over the place, i think i fall in love with him all over again. hes alone and i don’t dare to approach but he finally sees me. he waves, i nod. he's so handsome that i can’t stand to look at him so i don’t.

it’s dark and explosions of many colours light up the sky. i'm so distracted by the loud boom echoing off the hills and the blue, red, white and green lights on a black landscape that i don’t notice he's standing right beside me watching it too. knuckles lightly brush against my own, my chest tightens at the sensation. it’s distracting enough that i tear my eyes away from the sky show. they’re as wide as a possum when i meet his gaze. he doesn’t say anything, he just stares for a moment before he looks back at the fireworks. it was an accident and i forgive and forget but then his fingers awkwardly hook around my own, clinging for dear life. i cannot look, i cannot think nor speak. i hold my breath and blink rapidly while i cling onto his fingers just as tightly. when the fireworks are finished, we consider each other in silence for a minute. his hand leaves mine and we part ways without a word.

every time i see him, i see fireworks and feel the ghost of his fingers wrap around my own. he acknowledges me and we’re rarely left alone around each other; when we are we do not speak of it. we lean against a railing side by side and watch our friends fool around. courageously i say to him that the weather is nice today and he nods in agreement before his friend calls him over. when he leaves my side, his knuckles brush past mine once more. i jump in surprise and tell myself it was another forgivable accident but then he glances back at me as he walks away and i can’t be too sure. 

i am frozen still in a shrub waiting for the enemy to pass by. the sound of my heartbeat in my ears is so loud but suddenly it is replaced with the familiar crackle of electricity that haunted my dreams for the longest of times. when i turn around i see a man gasping for life, holding on tightly to the kunai i imagined would have been plunged into the nape of my neck if it wasn’t for the ball of lightning sizzling away in his chest. the man’s body drops to the ground and i finally see him standing there in the man’s place, his lower arm is soaked with blood from the fatal strike. he takes my hand and helps me onto my feet. that famous red eye is hiding behind a porcelain hound mask and he asks me if i'm okay. i assure him i am and thank him, he nods his head in reply and walks away. i don’t mind that he’s left my hand stained with our enemy’s blood. 

when i am given the rank of jonin i am months away from being twenty. i’m not allowed to drink just yet but my older friends buy bottles of sake to share in the park and i accept the invitation without giving it much thought. it’s sweet on my tongue and goes down smoothly, the aftertaste reminds me of potatoes for some strange reason i can’t put my finger on. i drink and i drink until half a bottle is gone and my cheeks are red and i laugh too loudly at asuma’s lame jokes. the stars are beautiful tonight but they just look like streaks of light in my blurry vision. i lay in the grass, my head feels light and my stomach slightly churns. out of nowhere he is in my line of sight, standing over me with a touch of concern on the features that aren’t hidden away. he asks me if i'm okay and i say i'm just fine and i think to myself that i'm glad to see him. 

when he takes me home, he lectures his friends that i'm too young to get drunk and they reply that i'll be old enough in a couple of months and it doesn’t make that much of a difference. he doesn’t mind my drunken babbling and how my head leans on his shoulder as we walk slowly through the dimly lit streets. his grip around my waist is tight and i try not to say something foolish like the way he fights is a form of art or that i want him to hold my hand again. he drops me off at the door and leaves once i am inside safely. i pass out that night thinking of the ways i want to be his.

i am twenty one when he leaves the anbu and i see him on the streets alone. his nose is in a book and he doesn’t notice as i walk by. i fight the urge to turn around and ask him how he’s going, i’ll be late to meet up with my old squad to train if i do. later when i walk home, i stare off into the distance and think about making dinner and sharpening my collection of kunai when i collide with something hard. i jump out of fright at the impact, ready to snap when two hands land on my shoulders to secure me in place. we’re not kids anymore and he smiles at me and apologises even when i'm at fault. i ask him how he’s been and he says he’s been just fine. he walks me home and we talk about missions and his new role as a squad leader. on my doorstep he says he’ll see me around and then he is gone and i am left greedily wanting more of his time.

one day when we are standing alone he tells me he is in love with me. it is is out of the blue and i brush it off with laugher, telling him he couldn’t possibly be; he takes my hand in his and insists it’s true. he tells me that he has been since the moment i collided with him in the street when he was ten years old. that when the world was unkind to him, i provided enough kindness to keep him going, all in a smile and a greeting. it is everything i have wanted to hear and more. the angry swarm of bees are back and i am stung over and over again. he can tell that i'm paralysed so his lips fall gently onto mine and it allows me to say the things i cannot utter out loud. my eyes are closed and i can see the very same fireworks from the night our fingers touched. when he breaks away from me he says we should get out of here and wordlessly i agree. we walk in the streets of the village and i am unsure of the destination he has in mind. his fingers are wrapped around mine.

[rosyfingereddawnn]

only the black rose (chapter 8)

pairing: jimmy page x layla porter (oc)

warnings: big nsfw warning, drinking, jimmy being himself, fluff

words: 3.6k

summary: in the blink of an eye, it’s 1975 and layla’s suddenly joining led zeppelin for their north american tour. throughout the chaos, the band take a liking to her, she builds friendships with the boys, and love blossoms. but all good things must come to an end.

author’s note: so. layla’s a freak in the... well... not necessarily the sheets, i guess? more stressy hands because they're my weakness, and just... please savour the last bit of happiness you get here. that is all. (two more chappies to go!!!) hope you enjoy :) feedback as always is so very welcome!

masterlist

playlist

chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

———

As she’s checking over the stage, ensuring the lights and speakers are set to do their job, Layla’s thoughts roam. After the chaos at the hotel pool, while everyone was asleep, Layla had been anything but. Her tossing and turning had disturbed Jimmy, who had pulled her further into his arms with a tired grunt. She lay there for another hour, her conversation with Jonesy running through her mind over and over. It was obvious she’d have to go back to her own time, and she missed her friends. She missed her mom. She missed everything.

Layla couldn't help, though, but think that maybe she didn’t want to leave.

 She had made friends that meant the world to her, and… she’d found Jimmy. The guitarist had changed her life, and had shown her what it meant to love. She’s falling for him, and it’s not long before she hits the ground. It’ll be worth it, she thinks, for someone like him. Jimmy Page is a rare gem, precious, and she knows that she would spend her life trying to find her way back to him.

A throat clears from behind her, and, looking over her shoulder, Layla spots Peter Grant standing a few feet away. Soft smile resting upon his lips, he steps closer, placing a large hand on Layla’s shoulder.

“Layla, I trust everything’s going well?”

“Yep! Lights and sound are looking good, and the stage is set up. Anything else you need me to do?”

“No, this is perfect, dear,” Peter shakes his head, smile morphing into a smirk as he continues. “Though, you’ve been requested elsewhere. Follow me, Layla.” Leading her through the venue, Peter stops in front of a closed door, a laminated sign next to it reading, “Dressing Room: Led Zeppelin”. Turning to Layla, he holds out an arm, beckoning her to take it.

“Shall we?”

“We shall, Peter.”

Arm in arm, they walk into the room. Robert, lying elegantly across the comfortable couch pressed against the wall, has his eyes closed. He hasn’t thrown up yet, but his voice is hoarse, and he has a terrible cough. Knowing these boys as well as she does, Layla suspects that nothing will bring them down. The show must go on, after all. Bonzo is next to him, Robert’s feet in his lap. The drummer speaks quietly to the sick man, who answers in the voice of a 20-year smoker. Jonesy speaks in hushed tones to Jimmy, eyebrows pinched in worry. Jimmy, Layla realizes, has his finger in a bowl of what looks to be ice water, if the cubes of ice scattered across the table are anything to go by. From the doorway, Layla can’t hear what’s being said, but by the downwards tilt of Jonesy’s lips, she can assume Jimmy’s stubbornness is on full display again. Her entrance with Peter hadn’t been noticed, until Robert’s eyes open to slits and he sits up, a smile breaking out on his face.

“Peter! Ah, look, if it isn’t my favourite little dove…”

“Hey, Robert. How are you feeling?”

“Better, better,” Robert smiles, and stands up to pull Layla into a hug, hands splayed across her back. “All thanks to you, Layla. Seriously, thank you for taking care of me.”

Layla grins in response, waving at Bonzo as she passes. He lifts up a hand, as if to splash the woman, and her face lights up, a giggle flying out past her lips. Layla walks over to Jonesy, and he gives her an uncertain look, beckoning her closer. Leaning close, he whispers into the woman’s ear, a worried glance at the guitarist beside him following.

“He was in a lot of pain, even with the meds, so he, uh… found a bottle of Jack’s and… Layla, he won’t listen.”

As if on cue, Jimmy takes a pull from the large bottle of whiskey that rested next to him on the table. Layla hadn’t noticed it, walking in, but it stuck out like a sore thumb now.

“Hey, petal,” Jimmy slurs slightly, bottle in hand as he sends the woman a lazy smile. Injured finger in plain view now, Layla can see how the nail is completely black, the skin around it still dyed purple from the force applied to it. Layla shakes her head, eyes downcast, as she walks closer to Jimmy. She grasps the bottle of alcohol in his hand, replacing it with her own, a warm palm meeting his.

“Jimmy… you can’t just…” Layla drifts off, not wanting to argue with him this close to showtime. They can always talk about this later, after all. Jimmy, noticing her internal battle even through his alcohol-fueled haze, pulls her into his lap. Jonesy, confident that Jimmy is in good hands, nods at Layla before giving the couple a moment to themselves. Jimmy brings a finger to the apple of Layla’s cheek, stroking it almost hesitantly, as though she would break under a stronger touch. Layla’s eyes, once meeting his, drift to his plump, pink lips. They shine in the artificial light, as he swipes his tongue across to wet them.

“Layla,” Jimmy starts, snapping her out of her trance. Her eyes meet his, and he smirks at her dilated pupils. She knew he had caught her staring, she wasn’t exactly subtle about it. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot.”

“What is the meaning of life? Please, answer seriously. This is important.”

“Jimmy, I didn’t peg you as someone who indulges in drunk philosophical discussions.”

Jimmy huffs a sigh, and leans in closer, pressing a quick kiss against her lips. Pulling back, he looks at their joined hands, before meeting her eye once more.

“Humour me.”

“Well—”

Before she could answer, Peter floats back into the room, telling the boys to follow him backstage. It’s showtime, and Layla doesn’t want her guitarist to leave yet. Jimmy looks at her expectantly, green eyes searching her face as though the answer to his question was written in the curve of her lips.

“It’s okay, Jimmy,” she says, squeezing the hand in hers, passing courage from one to the other. “We can continue this after the show.”

Jimmy nods, and releases her hand slowly, not wanting to break the contact. Layla hops out of his lap, and helps him stand. Her lips meet his in a soft kiss, as she presses their foreheads together. Their eyelashes flutter against each other, and the scent of citrus, tobacco and pine was ever-present, invading all of Layla’s senses. Jimmy pulls away first, and walks to the door, glancing back at her over his shoulder. She smiles at him, adrift in the empty dressing room, and he smiles back, walking out the door.

“Good luck, angel.” Layla whispers, voice swallowed up by the silence of the deserted dressing room.

Making her way to the familiar lip of the backstage area, Layla’s hands wring together, her lips bitten red. Robert hadn’t sounded well at all earlier, and Jimmy… It seemed like he was deteriorating right before her eyes. The mixture of codeine and Jack Daniels killed the pain, sure, but he was no longer the sharp, pragmatic man she was falling for. He was too caught up in the burn of the drink down his throat, a way to forget the agony rushing through his hand like a current. Bringing her attention back to the stage, she spots the boys, who share a loaded glance. Robert takes a deep breath, and launches right in. ‘Rock and Roll’ passes without a hitch, save for some voice cracks. If anything though, they add to the authentic performance, the crowd electric as usual. ‘Sick Again’ stuns, followed by ‘Over the Hills and Far Away’, and all is well, until ‘How Many More Times’ rolls around.

It was small. Insignificant, really. If Layla hadn’t been searching Jimmy’s face, entranced by the way his brow furrowed as he got lost in the music, she wouldn't have noticed. Breaking apart from the rest of the band to complete a complicated lick, Jimmy’s fingers trip up on the fretboard. To the audience, the only consequence is a slight dead note in the midst of heavenly riffs. Gazing over at Jimmy, however, Layla could see the discomfort in the downwards tilt of his lips, and the pain stiffening his shoulders. She could see the anger flaming in his dark eyes. Jimmy recovers well, delivering attack after attack, though his solos, from that point on, tended to go a little off-track. Whether from nerves or self-doubt, Layla didn't know. But she knows him. She knows the guitarist will let it cloud the entire night. She knows he’s gonna pick the show apart, minute after exhilarating minute, looking for the smallest flaw. Layla knows that she’ll be there for him through it all.

No matter what.

----------

With a hoarse thank you and a flourish directed at the audience, Robert finally leads the band off-stage to voltaic cheers. Robert, ecstatic as ever during the concert, seems to deflate the second he gets off. With a nod and a soft smile at Layla, he disappears into the depths of the backstage area. Jonesy and Bonzo pass by with tight-lipped smiles, clapping her on the shoulder as they follow Robert. Jimmy is the last to appear, and the reason for the rhythm section’s warning glances becomes apparent immediately.

Jimmy scowls as he approaches, eyes glassy, as though she were looking into a clear stream. Layla can see herself reflected in them; can see the worry reflected in her own gaze. Slipping a hand around his bicep, she steers Jimmy into a corner. He refuses to look at her, even as her hand tilts his face upwards softly.

“Jimmy, love, that was—”

“Shit.”

“No, not at all,” Layla steps closer, a hand finding the familiar spot on his cheek. “It was a great show. You saw the audience, Jim. They loved you guys!”

“It was shit, and everyone knows it. If I could just—”

“Jimmy, come on…”

“—be good enough, this would have gone differently.”

Layla’s breath catches, eyes as wide as saucers as she steps closer to the guitarist, who turns away. His gaze at the floor never wavers as he paces, muttering to himself.

“Jimmy, look at me,” Layla stops him in his tracks with a hand at his back. His shoulders heave with deep breaths as he tries to calm himself down. “You played a good gig. It doesn’t matter if you missed a note or two. You came to play a great show, and you did.”

“But it isn't enough. These people came here for an extraordinary show and we couldn't deliver. I couldn't deliver, and—”

“Hey—”

“—if my finger wasn’t broken, we would have been as good as we’ve always been. This is my fault.”

“Jimmy, this isn’t on you. You did nothing wrong.”

Jimmy’s hands fly up to land in his hair, as he pulls at it almost unconsciously. Layla grips his cheek lightly, as the other hand comes to rest at a thin wrist, pulling it away from the dark locks it had latched onto. Jimmy averts his eyes from the woman’s earnest gaze and turns his back once more, treading a hole in the wooden floor of the backstage area. Layla’s palm rubs soft circles into the fabric of his cardigan, patches of whispering dandelions catching on her fingers. From her place behind him, she can see the way he’s beating a fist into the palm of his injured hand repeatedly, perhaps a way to atone for a mistake that hasn’t been committed.

“I fucked up this tour. It’s my fault. I can’t do everything I know I can do, and that’s on me. I just…”

“Jimmy…”

“I can’t do this anymore!”

Layla shrinks back slightly at the exclamation form the man, who is shaking like a leaf. His head drops, long hair hiding his face once again. Recovering quickly, she spins him around carefully to face her. Hands cupping his cheeks, she presses her lips to his. His eyes flutter closed and he immediately reciprocates, a hand pressed to Layla's hips; his new favourite spot for them. Jimmy lets out a whine of pleasure, and Layla pulls away, looking into his tired eyes.

“Jimmy, listen to me. You did play well. I am so, so proud of you. Okay?”

“...Okay. I’ll… work on trying to believe you.”

“That’s all I can ask for.”

If Layla sees the sparkle and shine of tears on the man’s cheeks, she doesn't mention it as she grabs his hand, leading him to an empty room, locking the door immediately.

Finally away from prying eyes, Layla unfurls the guitarist’s hands from their clenched position, bringing the injured one up near her mouth. Gazing up at him, eyes shining in the dim light of the room, she presses a chaste kiss to each finger, slowing as she reaches the one painted shades of purple and black and blue. Jimmy nods, exhale shaky, and she presses the softest of kisses to the tip, hoping to cause pleasure rather than pain.

Jimmy’s hands slide lower from their place on her hips to cup her bum lightly, in case she was uncomfortable and wanted to slip out of his grasp. Her lips find his again as he pushes her against the large table in the middle of the room. Layla lets out a whimper, swallowed by the mouth against hers, as Jimmy’s tongue laps at her bottom lip, asking for entrance. He’s always been soft with her, but this new side of the dark-haired guitarist excited her. The kiss was over as soon as it began, Jimmy pulling away to stare at her, close enough still that their noses touched.

“Petal, I… We were gonna take it slow, and we will, but if you're ready…”

“I’m ready.”

Jimmy smiles, crashing his lips against her quickly, passionately. Pulling back once more, Jimmy smirks as Layla chases the high the feel of his lips gave her. Pressing into his space again, she frowns, which makes Jimmy chuckle. Layla’s hand reaches up, twisting in his hair.

“Angel,” Layla starts, a light tug on a mussed ebony ringlet following the nickname. His mossy eyes were dark with desire, and he placed his lips on her neck, kissing a trail down her jaw, stopping at her collarbone. Slipping the sweat-soaked cardigan off his shoulders, she traces a line down his cheek, eyes glued to his blush-red lips. “Can you lie down on the table for me? Please do try not to break any other body parts.”

“Haven’t I told you I’m afraid of heights?”  Jimmy laughs, and with a small smile thrown over his shoulder, he hops up onto the table.

“You overlooked that, love,” Layla says, unbuttoning her blouse ever-so-slowly, surely teasing the guitarist, who leans back on his elbows. His eyes follow her every move as she takes off the rest of her clothing. “Now, I feel like you might have too many clothes on, Jim. We need to be even, after all.”

Slipping his pants and underwear off in record time, he reclines back, already hard. Fully exposed now, Layla climbs up onto the table as well, straddling the man’s lap, before sinking herself onto him. A calloused hand lands on her hips, helping her find the perfect position, until a soft groan rang through the near-empty room. Jimmy’s hands move up to her breasts, toying with the woman’s nipples, much to her delight. Layla grabs onto his chest for support, craning her head back in pure euphoria at the sensation, the hollow of her neck exposed as Jimmy raises up to nip at it. Grinding her hips to the rhythm of the man’s soft groans, she trails hickies up his chest and neck.

“Something to remember me by.” she says, looking at him with dark eyes, a haze of lust filling them. Hand gripping Layla’s ass tightly, he brings her ever-closer, a mumbled “fuck” leaving the woman’s kiss-bitten lips. The guitarist’s face is creased with absolute exhilaration, as he rocks back and forth to the movement of Layla’s body on his. The couple didn’t know where one ended and the other began. Ecstasy fills the room, and whispers of praise flow like music from lips bruised and bitten.

“You did so well today, angel. You’re incredible.”

Jimmy raises up once more to capture her lips in a bruising kiss, a hand raking through the woman’s hair roughly, landing on her throat. Jimmy squeezes it lightly, warningly, and presses his lips to Layla’s once more, swallowing the shriek of pleasure she gasps out.

“You liked that, petal?” Jimmy’s hoarse voice reaches Layla’s ears almost belatedly, too caught up in the pleasure of his hands on her, though she nods as if her life depended on it. Panting hard now, Layla quickens her pace, noises of pleasure growing louder. With the friction of his hand on her, roaming everywhere it could reach, Layla felt divine; heavenly in this embrace. Leaning down for a heavy, passionate kiss, Jimmy’s hand finds her hair again, and he tugs on it hard. The pain elicits a moan from Layla, as she reaches her peak.

With a stuttered breath, Jimmy releases as well, gasps leaving his lips as he looks at Layla reverently. The wetness from her core rushes over him as she lays back down beside him, spent. Back arching as she pants, her head turns to face him, faces painted with bliss.

In a post-coitus haze, Jimmy has his arms wrapped securely around Layla’s shoulders, as her head rests on his chest. Layla giggles tiredly, as her breaths ruffle the dark hair on Jimmy’s chest. Looking up at him, she’s pleased to see him looking right back at her.

“That certainly cheered you up, didn’t it?”

“You’re the best at cheering me up after all. This, of course, was just a bonus.” Jimmy noses at her messy hair, smelling a combination of fresh linen, sweat and her shampoo; hints of strawberry and mango tickling his nose.

“We should get up, the boys are probably looking for us,” Layla says, dragging light fingers across his stomach, watching goosebumps appear on the pale skin. Whether it’s from the sensation or the chill of the table, Layla didn't know, but she’s comfortable in his embrace, in danger of drifting off.

“What if we just… stayed here forever. They can find another guitarist.”

“You’re pretty irreplaceable, Page,” Layla whispers, reaching up to press her lips to his jaw. “I mean, who would the boys chaperone if you were gone?”

“Chaperone? I’m not that bad. I can take care of myself just fine.”

“Right, so Robert was lying about the time you refused to sleep for 5 days out of pure adrenaline? New York, 1973, I believe it was?”

“...”

“That’s what I thought. We need to have a serious talk about your habits, Jimmy.”

With a chuckle from the guitarist, the two lapse into a comfortable silence, as Jimmy presses a kiss to the top of Layla’s head, nuzzling it with his cheek.

“Hey,” Layla shifts to look up at him, eyes filled with adoration. She felt as though she were looking at a star. Beautiful and shining, but out of reach, as much as she wished for the opposite. She knew this couldn’t last, though she’d savour every last minute of it that she could. “I need to… tell you something.”

“What’s wrong, Layla?”

“Nothing’s wrong, really. It’s… kind of the opposite, actually.”

Jimmy tilts his head in confusion, turning on his side to face her. He looked like a puppy, hair wild about his head, and Layla couldn’t help but giggle at the sight.

“S-So,” Layla shifts, nervous all of a sudden. Jimmy grips her hand in his, and nods when their eyes finally meet. “Do you remember what you asked me earlier? About the… meaning of life. You might not remember, you were a little out of it, and—”

“I remember. You’re rambling, petal. What’s going on?”

“Well, it’s… it’s love. The meaning of life is… love. Jimmy, I…um…”

“What is it? You know you can tell me anything, right?”

“I’m… I guess... What I’m trying to say is,” Layla says, taking a deep breath as she looks into the eyes that captivate her, and make her smile, and set her on fire. “I’m falling in love with you, and I just… Yeah.”

Jimmy grins brightly, surging forward to capture her lips in a kiss bursting with joy. He laughs into it, as their noses brush together, his finger tracing nonsensical designs across her side.

“Very eloquently put, Porter.”

“Oh my God, I just confessed that I’m falling for you, and you focus on—”

“I’m falling in love with you too. I thought that may have been obvious, considering the state of this poor table.”

“W-Well,” Layla stutters, blushing crimson as Jimmy’s plush lips tilt up in a picture-perfect smirk. “Put your clothes on, Page. The boys are probably waiting for us.”

Jimmy laughs, but redresses in his stage clothes, turning to stare at Layla as she slips her jeans back on. Buttoning up her shirt and flattening her hair, which frizzed up like a halo around her flushed face, she gazes over at Jimmy. Crowding into his space, she put a hand to the back of his neck, up on her tiptoes to peck at his lips once more. He slips a hand to her cheek, and deepens the kiss. Pulling away to glimpse the golden smile that rests on Layla’s lips, he feels like his heart is going to beat right out of his chest. Arm in arm, they walk out of the room, twin smiles nearly splitting their faces. Jimmy glances over at Layla, and can’t believe just how lucky he is.

Screw falling in love, he thinks.

This is love, and he knows it for sure, now.

------

taglist: @jimmys-zeppelin @salixfragilis @timetraveller4 @earthfire-75 @thatiloveyouso (let me know if you want to be added!)

[novantinuum]

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: Teen Audiences

Words: 6.3K~

Summary: In another world, he doesn’t have his mother’s sword or shield to hide behind when Bismuth lands her strike. The bubble pops.

Steven falls apart.

Chapter summary: In which freedom is a future worth fighting for.

Finally finished this chapter, yay! I promise I throw canon off a ravine entirely next chapter, I just needed to set up some stuff. Hopefully the Ruby POV makes things somewhat fresh.

If you read this and enjoy, I’d greatly appreciate your support through reblogs here, or kudos/comments on AO3. Thank you! <3

____

Chapter 13: system/REBOOT, Part 1

The whole mission is Garnet’s idea. 

By this point, they’ve known about Homeworld’s rushed Beta Kindergarten project for about fifty years. Frankly, its composition leaves much to be desired. The area is rich in the iron and silicon deposits necessary to produce a strong batch of quartzes, but the foundation they incubated all their new soldiers within is red clay cemented sandstone; it’s soft, and in constant danger of erosion. According to all the rebellion’s peridots, many of them top Homeworld kindergarteners before their eventual defection, this type of stone is critically unfit for Gem production. It can’t compress the inclusions of injector fluid at the correct pressure, can’t reliably bar the excess from draining through the porous material. As a result many of the individually incubated sites are predicted to ‘weep’ and lose critical volume, which will inevitably cause the emergent quartzes to be ‘off-color’ in some fashion. Some may be under regulation height, some may exhibit crystal twinning, some may be incapable of standard abilities like shapeshifting or weapon summoning, so on and so forth.

As a fellow off-color herself, Garnet carries a deep empathy for all those who are forsaken and unwanted. She can foresee the dire fate of these Beta Gems creeping over the dawning horizon even without the benefit of future vision, can foresee that despite all of these soldiers’ loyal programming, they’re ultimately cursed to be eliminated within the cruel machine of Homeworld. One day beyond the battlefield, the so-called Great Diamond Authority will see no further use in their existence, and then they’ll be purged. Harvested for scrap. Trapped within a myriad of Gem-powered objects. Crushed and used within their drop ships for fuel. 

It’s pure tyranny. 

Thus, she refuses to let their cruelty stand without a just fight. They have to give these Gems a chance beyond Homeworld’s rule, because abandoning them would be abandoning everything that their brave rebellion stands for, that she stands for. She refuses to stand powerless and idle in the face of a Diamond’s commands like the Sapphire and Ruby she once was, refuses to let another tragedy slip by without at least attempting to mend its damage. She is Garnet, she is freedom, and she is love.

And deep within her core, she believes these soon-to-emerge soldiers deserve the same opportunity for renewal and hope as any other Crystal Gem.

 __

For all Ruby’s aware, a whole geological era could have passed between that fateful moment she first set eyes on Jasper and the shards-late arrival of Amethyst and the others. All three of them duck behind the low rock formations she’s hiding in the shade of, Steven still breathing heavily from the no-doubt harried and concerned exertion of their sprint towards her. Hard light coursing from the gem in her palm to all other extremities at random intervals amidst crackling cinders of immobilizing terror, (she’s almost surprised her form isn’t flickering at this point), she desperately attempts to babble an explanation. She’ll admit— it’s not a particularly coherent one. Ask her mere minutes later, and there’s little chance she’ll be able to repeat what she said. Heck, she’s not confident about her words now, in the heat of the moment. It’s probably something about holes, something about injector scrap, about all those Gem monsters, a-and—

"Whoa, what the heck!” Amethyst blessedly interrupts, raising her head above the rocks and pointing across the clearing at the orange and red striped quartz diligently prowling the area like a true squadron leader. “Jasper’s here, too? Did everyone decide to skip on over to Beta today, or somethin’?!”

Peridot’s face scrunches in confusion as she regards her former mission partner.  “What is she doing?”

“She’s got all those corrupted Gems in cages,” Steven murmurs with realization, a tiny spark of outrage lighting up behind his eyes on those creatures’ behalf. “They’re not even bubbled, they’re just… trapped, and scared!”

Ruby brings her fist to her mouth, nervously nibbling at her fingers for a moment to anchor herself back to this present. Above all else, ignoring every thread of trepidation and insecurity she bears, there’s one burning question that pulses at her core with an unmatched luminosity about this whole scenario:

“B-but why would she want so many corrupted Gems in the first place? Doesn’t she know she can’t tame them?”

The purple quartz growls, the fringe of her hair casting a dark and menacing shadow over her features as she tilts her head down and glares at her self-proclaimed rival. “I don’t think she knows nothin’.”

And as— instinctively, mistakenly, running off of over five thousand years of deep engrained habit— she attempts to open her third eye towards the winding tributaries of potential futures they may soon find themselves wading through and fails, it slowly dawns on her just how isolated and lost they all are, without Sapphire’s sight. Without her love.

“Neither do I…” she says softly, her stature shrinking in the throes of that suffocating inadequacy. Riding an abrupt wave of frustration, she slams her foot into the coarse dirt, gripping thick chunks of her coily hair between her fingers. “Aughhh, this is a terrible time to not have future vision!” she huffs, spitting out each word staccato.

“Pipe down!” Jasper hollers at the poor corrupted Gem cornered in the distance as she kicks one of the bars of its cage, her booming voice easily reverberating off the cliffs’ curvature.

All four of them can’t help but bite back their gasps upon this clamoring startle. Peeking her head just above the rim of the rocky outcropping, Ruby watches the fur covered quartz visibly shrink back at the soldier’s command. Jasper continues, her unwavering act of confidence currently undeterred by this reaction. 

“You take orders from me now. You used to be a quartz too, didn’t you? What happened to you?”

Utterly failing to comprehend any of her words in this vulnerable, animalistic state, the corrupted Gem merely snaps its fangs at the bars, and then tilts its head sideways to begin chewing on one of them. Jasper scoffs, her lips rising in a mild sneer. Taking the risk to edge closer, she continues to verbally berate the poor thing, talking the same sort of smack Ruby’s former Homeworld commanding officer, Condor Agate, used to dish out. Ruby grinds her teeth together so hard as she watches this display that the pressure and heat alone might be enough to form a brand new batch of Gems. Jasper even finds a moment to rope Amethyst into her insults, which almost has the stone in question summoning her whip in pure unfiltered fury. It’s only Steven and Peridot’s quick clutch on her shoulders that holds her back from steamrolling into the clearing with zero preparation and potentially making a terrible mistake. Still, she’s gotta admit, the temptation to whoop this Homeworld brute’s butt right this minute is devilishly hard to resist.

Ruby growls, one of her gauntlets emerging into existence on her clenched fist with a burst of light. “Oh-hoh, do I wanna launch this baby right into her dumb, chalky face…!”

“But maybe first we should go back to the temple and grab reinforcements?” Peridot whispers hastily, whirling around to face her. Panic visibly tightens its grip on her form with each passing second. 

She pauses a moment to let the logic of this suggestion sink in, gaze hardened, and self-consciously aware of how her fellow Gems are (wrongfully) looking towards her as their leader in this chaos. What options do they even have? They can choose to fight, that’s one. They could disengage. They could retreat to Beach City and seek backup. If they were truly desperate, they could surrender. (Although she’s not confident Jasper would gracefully accept anyone’s defeat, not until it ended with their poofed— maybe even shattered— gemstones littering the coarse sand.)

As the gears are still pirouetting in her mind, she turns towards Steven, who nods in vehement agreement of Peridot’s strategy, his mouth stretched thin.

Sighing with frustration, she loosens her grip, recalling how even Garnet was barely able to match up with Jasper’s might. “Yeah, you’re right. She’d beat us into the dirt without Pearl or Sapphire.”

“Okay, so far we got three votes for retreat,” he says, holding up the appropriate number of digits as a visual. “Amethyst?”

In sync, the trio turn towards where the quartz just stood and find nothing but faint granules of recently upended dust filtering through a beam of sunlight. Both Peridot and Steven let out a fearful squeak at her absence.

“W-where is she?” the former Homeworld technician cries, craning her neck over the top of the rock formation to try and secure a visual.

“Up there!” Steven exclaims under his breath, pointing at a ridge a good ten feet above them that crosses from the arched entrance of this natural amphitheater all the way to the other side where Jasper stands, her back still turned to them.

Following the path of his index finger, Ruby catches a flash of purple, black and lavender stealthily advancing along the narrow rim towards the very soldier who reportedly poofed her with a single strike about a week back. The light sustaining her form nearly drains from all her limbs and rushes back to her gem. 

“Oh, shards no…”

Stars above, what the hell is her problem? she thinks, her mind riding in a narrow track between exacerbated vexation and dread. Does she have a death wish, or something?? Surely the last place a rational person would choose to run is directly into the arms of the Gem who clobbered them into a senseless cloud at their last meeting. Surely a rational person would instead choose to retreat and regroup. However, as she glumly reflects upon the dour happenings of the past few days, Amethyst’s actions prove she’s currently unable to think rationally about Jasper or any other kind of conflict. She’s been markedly sullen at everyone around her ever since she first got her butt whooped. Obsessed with her private training sprees. Emotionally stand-offish. Prone to making rash decisions, like letting her mouth run off at poor hapless Steven about matters that aren’t his fault, or slashing her whip right at people’s feet to push them away, or… or rushing directly towards Jasper in an enclosed space with little to no backup just because she’s desperate to show her up for the sake of her own self-worth, or whatever.

And Ruby gets it, to an extent. She understands how cripplingly powerless it can feel to be written off as ‘the weak one,’ as nothing but an expendable. She understands the vivid temptation to let one’s anger drive such antagonistic confrontations. However, she’d also like to believe that she carries enough self respect in this gem to not throw herself right on an enemy’s anvil. Whether or not Amethyst possesses the same level of restraint is another question entirely. She flexes nervous, twitchy fingers at her side as she watches her dear friend creep further along the rim, ever closer to what she fears will be her unquestionable demise. 

With the corrupted Gem’s racket still occupying Jasper’s undivided attention, Amethyst leaps from the cliff’s edge and into the clearing, pulling her whip from her gem in midair. The moment her toes touch the ground again, she slashes its barbed ends at the bars of the cage, right next to the quartz soldier’s hand. Jasper yanks her digits back. Her entire body snaps tense upon this disruption. Watching from behind their rocky cover, Ruby, Steven, and Peridot bite back the urge to gasp in shock. 

“HEY!” Amethyst yells, lowering on her haunches right behind her opponent. 

Now, there’s obviously no way to prove it without somehow obtaining intimate knowledge of her headspace, but upon external observation, Ruby swears that this big, buff Beta Kindergarten quartz is masking surprise. The sentiment is visible in the alignment of her shoulders, lifted high and tight against her neck. It’s visible in her narrow stance, light years away from the proper form of a soldier expecting battle. Flexing her thick, dexterous fingers at her side, she makes a blatant show of puffing out her chest before she turns to face her challenger, an almost predatory smile curving upwards on her lips as she regards her.

“You back away from her,” Amethyst hisses, nodding towards the Gem in the cage.

Jasper lets out a hearty chuckle. “Oh-hoh, what do we have here? You finally decide to crawl back for a rematch, runt?”

She grits her teeth, tightening her fist around the pommel of her weapon. “That’s right. I’m back, and I’mma wipe you all over these cliffs!”

“Perfect,” her opponent practically purrs, cracking her knuckles in anticipation. “I’ve been needing a light warmup.”

 __

Rose approves her mission without question, when she first brings her the idea. Of course she would, in retrospect— the hidden diamond she was. 

Garnet takes forty of her fellow soldiers and friends with her to the Beta Kindergarten. They don’t wield any weapons. These Gems are brand new, stepping into the light for the very first time. There’s no need to threaten them; all she wants is to peacefully talk, to introduce them to the concept of freedom, of choosing their own path beyond the Diamonds’ rule. 

At the time, all she wanted was to follow her beloved leader’s example and choose peace and harmony over subjugation and brutality.

But with the bitter truths they know now, and reflecting upon the horrid atrocities they themselves participated in amidst the war… despite Rose’s self-proclaimed ‘pacifism,’ despite the shaky justifications of their cause being different than Homeworld’s brand of violence... she’s increasingly unsure if any of them ever had a choice.

 __

Tragically, it only takes mere seconds for the initial triumphant beats of Amethyst’s war against Jasper to devolve into a one-sided thrashing. 

With a mighty, almost frenzied yell, Amethyst moves one foot forward for counterbalance and slings the weighted, barbed tip of her weapon directly at her opponent’s face. Jasper catches it midair, mere inches from her gem. An arrogant smile paints her visage. After winding the whip’s end around her hand, she yanks its user towards her with a snap of her wrist, swings her in a wide arc, and effortlessly slams her into the nearest cliff wall, blowing up a huge plume of pulverized rock and dust. It all happens so fast that the rest of the party barely has any time to react. As the rubble settles, Ruby finally spots her friend amidst the chaos, collapsed on hands and knees in the dirt. The poor Gem’s hands are nearly trembling as she vies to rise to her feet again, vies to stand her ground and keep fighting. 

There’s only one thing she knows for sure, watching all this: if hard light were consumable rather than indelible, she would quite literally be chipping away at her knuckles with her teeth by now.

His expression blown wide with fear, Steven breaks their communal silence to holler Amethyst’s name. Hands flexing in and out of fists, he darts away from their hiding spot. And they tried to stop him, they really did— it’s simply that he’s far too nimble for either of them to catch in time.

“Steven!” Peridot cries, trying and failing to grab his hand to hold him back.

“Steven, no!” Ruby yells, arms outstretched, as he sprints into the clearing— entirely blowing any remaining amount of cover the three of them had, placing his gem at Jasper’s mercy, and causing a thousand living nightmares to flood into her consciousness in but a millisecond. “Come back!!”

“Wait! Wait,” he gasps, waving his arms wildly to catch the larger quartz’s attention as he passes into the center of this natural coliseum, firmly planting himself at Amethyst’s side. “Stop! We don’t need to do this!”

Giving a growl that would rival that of a corrupted Gem’s, Ruby clenches her fingers around thick coils of her hair at either side of her head and yanks. “Aughh, why does nobody listen to me when I’m short??” 

A faint trail of glowing embers marks a record of her path as she leaves Peridot by their rocky outcropping and storms right into the open after him. Oh, hoh, hoh— that boy can disobey her clear, simple orders all he wants, but in his folly he’s forgetting one very important fact: rubies are stubborn Gems. And she’ll fight to protect him from the crossfire of Jasper’s hubris and Amethyst’s self-destruction even if that means braving her deepest terrors to run out there and drag him back to safety herself.

(Ideally, she’d be able to drag Amethyst with her out of the thunderdome as well, but she’s also quite the stubborn one. So try as she may, that’s not likely to happen.)

Ruby strides towards the middle of the clearing and defiantly plants her feet in the sterile soil right in front of Steven, and adjacent to Amethyst. She summons her gauntlets, her features twisting in a scowl. “Stand down and let them go!” she shouts up at that bulky orange quartz with all the Garnet-like confidence she can muster. “This is not a Homeworld controlled planet!”

“Steven, Ruby, get out of here!” Amethyst hisses under her breath, her battle-ready stance solidifying with a strange mixture of apprehension and anger as she regards the two of them.

“No!” she shoots back, tugging at her arm. “Come on, you know I can’t just leave you here.”

Jasper’s molten amber eyes narrow, her steely gaze colliding right into her.

“ You,” she says, enunciated as sharp as a dagger. “One half of that vile war machine.”

“War machine?!” Steven cries, distraught by the very implication. “She’s not a war machine! Garnet fuses for love!”

“Yeah!” Ruby jabs her fist in the air loud and proud.

The Homeworld warrior scoffs, seemingly not impressed by their display of solidarity. She folds her arms solid across the Yellow Diamond insignia emblazoned upon her chest and steps closer to address her directly. “And where’s this love now?” she spits, mockingly stooping to her level.

And despite the faint, triumphant memories of her last incursion with this quartz, (well… Garnet’s last incursion), she can’t help but cower in her presence, can’t help but crumble like the deficient sandstone of this very kindergarten under the cruel, personalized precision of her blunt words. Because... she’s right. Because that’s the whole problem, the pulsing heart of life’s cruel game. Fusion offered her a tantalizing taste of freedom, a glimpse of a reality where, together, a lowly guard and her sapphire could achieve literally anything through the strength of their love!— but that world feels like nothing more but an unobtainable mirage now. She’s absolutely useless on her own, just some pathetic waste of resources! No authority, no power, no wisdom of foresight— she brings nothing to the Crystal Gems’ cause. She never did. It was always her. Tears bead at her widening eyes, her gauntleted fists already beginning to tremble at her sides. 

“I-I…”

“Where’s any of your power now?” Jasper continues as she raises back to her full height, lifting both open hands towards the empty, cloud-streaked skies. She throws her head back as she offers them all a bright, boastful chuckle. “To think I used to view you traitors as a threat, but now even your disgraceful cause is falling apart, isn’t it… Rose?”

Still standing a step behind her, Steven’s immediate reply brims with tones of frustration. “I’m not—“

“But you’re wrong!” a high, familiar voice urgently calls out from behind them all. 

This whole messy confrontation breaks to a halt as everyone turns to gape at the lone Gem poking her head out above the rocky outcropping. Peridot gasps at the sudden influx of attention, and hastily ducks for cover again. 

“What are YOU doing here?” Jasper growls with annoyance, grinding one of her feet in the dirt as if inwardly hoping she could shift the very earth they stand on and finally gain the advantage of surprise once more.

“I-I…” the green Gem stammers, slowly creeping out from her hiding spot, summoning newfound confidence as she lays her eyes on each and every one of her friends. “I’m here because our cause hasn’t fallen apart! We live on Earth to be free, to learn new things about ourselves. Like how I can bend metal to my bidding!” she exclaims, tossing enthusiastic fists into the air.

On the cliff face over twenty feet away, a skinny length of metal from one of the injector’s legs slips from the device, falls straight down, and noisily clatters as it collides against the rocky soil. Amethyst facepalms. Meanwhile, Jasper appears so underwhelmed by this display that in any other circumstance, her glazed-over expression could be comedic.

Peridot briefly scowls at her botched handiwork. “And sure,” she shrugs, nodding towards that shard of metal, “nothing’s ever perfect here, but together, we work to help and support each other, just like we’re supporting Amethyst now. Isn’t that freedom worth fighting for?”

A few beats pass as the heart of this proclamation sinks in, the ticking seconds seeing Steven beam in pride at his friend’s progression since the beginning of her stay on Earth, and Jasper’s features scrunch inwards in an almost sour manner. Between the stifling roots of her own despair, even Ruby herself can’t help but feel a little uplifted by this hopeful sentiment. It’s a well-timed salve to an old burn, a naive yet ultimately truthful promise of lighthearted days to come. After all, hasn’t her time as a Crystal Gem taught her by now that no circumstance is permanent? That a single unifying cause can collapse empires like a wildfire, can continually reshape one’s entire understanding of existence? Her gauntleted hands shift at her side as a new spark of timid confidence ignites at her core. What was she thinking, letting this brute of a quartz tower over her and define the very pillars of her own story? She’s better than this. For the very sake of her friends she has to be!

But alas, before this newfound bravery can see its hour of triumph on this secluded battlefield, she finds herself once again cast aside by one of the very friends she’s vying to protect.

Amethyst growls in frustration at their continued presence, and summons her weapon. “UGH, you GUYS!” She slashes its barbed tips against the cliff face right above Peridot, not close enough to hit her, but certainly with enough force that it spooks her into diving behind the low rock formation again. Scowling, she then turns and plucks an actively protesting Steven right off the ground. “Get out of here!” she yells, tossing him back towards the clearing’s entrance. “This isn’t your fight!”

Ruby gives a sharp yelp as she just barely leaps backwards to dodge the business end of her whip, swinging low in a vain attempt to tangle up her feet. “Hey—!”

“It’s just you and me, Jasper,” the purple quartz breathes heavily, and abruptly whirls around to jab her finger towards her opponent. “ONE-ON-ONE!”

Silently, a consenting smirk riding over her lips, the taller Gem summons her ramming helmet in a glittering flash of light.

 __

The mission is— in the terms of the brave humans they sometimes fight alongside— a bloodbath. 

When they first warped in, Garnet only expected to find a small handful of disoriented jaspers, citrines, and carnelians roaming about. Gems they could talk to. Gems they could reason with, just as Rose reasoned with her fellow quartzes at the very start of this bold rebellion. Instead, what emerges soon after their arrival is more shocking and unpredictable than any future Garnet could’ve ever visualized.

Bursting from the very heart of this slapdash, rushed Kindergarten, despite every single locational and structural disadvantage this place stacks against one’s favor, is Her.

The strongest, most perfectly formed jasper she’s ever laid eyes on. She’s seven feet tall, built as solid as diamond, her flawlessly faceted gemstone gleaming bright and proud in the rising sun. She wastes no time in following the miserable orders the Great Diamond Authority cruelly embedded deep within her soul, immediately calling the hundreds of scattered and confused off-color Gems surrounding her to action.

Garnet and her squadron simply don’t have enough time to intervene, to try and settle this skirmish halfway peacefully. They don’t have the numbers. 

Twenty three Crystal Gems are shattered that day. Numerous more on both sides are cracked or poofed.

And yet one of the greatest tragedies, in her mind… is that these emergent Gems never got the proper chance to consider any purpose beyond their assigned station. Never got a chance to glimpse the promise of their own freedom. 

Everything happened so fast. 

She took this place for granted— thanks to her own preconceived notions about the kinds of Gems that could emerge here, utterly failed to foresee this potential turn of events— and in the end it cost lives. Both those of her fellow Crystal Gems, her friends … and those of the Beta quartzes she failed to save from Homeworld’s damaging influence.

That night, as she bitterly weeps for the recovered shards of the beloved they lost, clenches her gauntleted fists tight around her gemstones, she vows to never let such a harrowing tragedy escape her vision again. No more.

A leader like her is not allowed to fail.

 __

With the mighty roar of a lion, Amethyst stamps her leading foot to the ground to center her balance and rears her weapon-wielding arm back, wholly intending to defend her pride from this boorish bully. The first and second slashes are fruitful, one striking Jasper in the face, and the next hitting her chest with such intense force that it slams her into the cliff wall a few feet back, but Ruby can’t help but dread the litany of unknown possibilities haunting their future as she watches, powerless in her lack of second sight to influence their present. Could Amethyst win this fight? Sure. There’s gotta be at least one river of time where that occurs, where Jasper is so wrapped up within that facade of insufferable hubris that she fails to take her seriously as an opponent and pays the price. But on the other hand, she senses so many chinks in Amethyst’s armor that she can’t help but fear the opposite. She’s blinded by her anger, unable to consider consequence rationally. Her form in battle— compared to her usual performance— is notably sloppy, as if she’s throwing herself at this fight with such an explosion of tangled, raw emotion that her years of training and refinement have all but melted away in the inferno. Her fingers are trembling as she tightens her grasp on the whip’s pommel.

All of this stated, Ruby may not possess the gift of Sapphire’s future vision, but she has more than enough experience on patrol and on the battlefield to recognize a soldier who is woefully unprepared for a fight. Something terrible is about to happen, she can just feel it.

“Be careful!!” she cries, cupping her hands around her mouth.

“It’s fine, she’s totally rocking this!” Steven says with a huge grin, seeming uncharacteristically calm, given the circumstances. He whoops, and punches his fist in the air. “Go Amethyst!”

Ruby and Peridot briefly match eyes, the noted concern in their gazes pointing towards the fact that they both think that Amethyst’s insistence to fight is reckless and naive. In retrospect, of course her friend would agree with her. She spent a lot of time cohabiting with Jasper on their journey to Earth, so she’s bound to be well aware of her fundamental nature.

At the moment however, given the shorter quartz’s tunnel vision, she’s certain that any of their valid concerns would fall upon deaf ears. 

“Who’s weak now, huh?” Amethyst spits from across the clearing, flicking her wrist to activate the triplet spiked balls at the ends of her whip, an upgrade gifted by Bismuth she surprisingly hasn’t seemed to have abandoned. With a holler, she swings her leading arm back and around to build up momentum and then slashes at Jasper’s chest three times in succession. The last hit comes with enough force to push her backwards in the dirt a few feet. “Who’s powerless NOW?!”

Then, just as Ruby fearfully predicted, the winds shift. 

The firestorm doubles back upon them, Jasper merely swatting the flail ends away like they were nothing more but a momentary nuisance. Her expression narrows into a scowl. Emergent shock mingles alongside the dark cloud of Amethyst’s anger like wayward lightning bolts as she growls in frustration, the side-swept fringe of her hair shadowing her features. In retaliation she summons a second whip and immediately slashes them both against the soil, endowing them with a crackling, purple-tinged energy, almost a fire of her own making. She tucks into a ball and literally hurls herself at the quartz warrior, her form only recognizable in the heat of that moment via a dazzling blaze of light.

The resulting collision throws up so much dirt and smoke that Ruby has to throw her small body in front of Steven’s to shield him from the worst of the debris. 

When the thick curtains of dust finally part, the consequences of this overly-impulsive move are revealed. Jasper still stands proud and tall, her mettle unaffected by this attempted show of strength. Barely a scuff even marrs her uniform. Meanwhile, Amethyst lays hunched over on hands and knees, hacking up fragmented remnants of sandstone she likely swallowed amidst the impact. (Alas, that’s the price she pays for choosing to always reform with an semi-operational digestive system.)

“Is it sinking in yet?” Jasper queries pointedly, advancing towards the trembling Gem on the ground.

Amethyst is so exhausted she can’t even muster the strength to respond, her arms quivering beneath her as she vies to hold up the simulated weight of her hard light form.

Her foe roughly kicks her in the chest, her foot striking mere inches under her gem. Ruby visibly cringes at both the shallow huff of distress that this hit elicits from her, and Steven’s cries of fear in response. 

“It doesn’t matter how long or hard you fight,” Jasper boasts, her imposing figure hovering like a bad omen over her quartz sibling’s, “because I’ll always be stronger! Runts like you never had a chance. Runts like you are worthless.”

Angrily, she grinds her teeth together, cradling the vulnerable gemstone on her hand. 

Worthless.

Worthless.

Who the hell does this square hunk of stone think she is, slinging such heavy-handed words around like the blunt end of a mallet?

“Get your worthless, sorry forms back in formation!” wretched old Condor Agate used to scream at her and the others in her squad, back when she spent eternity guarding empty corridors, back before she was eventually reassigned to Sapphire’s personal guard. “You’re an embarrassment to your commanding agates, all of you!”

Ruby growls, finding her resolve. That’s it. No more. She can’t bear to stand at the sidelines gripped in fear while some bully is literally beating her friend into the ground, both physically and emotionally. She can’t bear for Amethyst to fall prey to the same type of unwavering torment she herself experienced all those years ago on Homeworld, torment that utterly deformed her sense of self-worth until recognizing any ounce of good in herself became a gargantuan, near-impossible task. Admittedly, she still hasn’t healed from those days. Not entirely. Sometimes she’s unsure she ever will. But it’s her duty to put an end to this, to what’s happening in the here and now. After all, what’s the point of being a Crystal Gem if you don’t look after the people you love?

“We have to separate them,” she says firmly, turning towards Steven and Peridot. “She’s gonna get clobbered!”

The former kindergartener’s expression warps to despair under her visor. “But how? She doesn’t even want us to be here! And none of us are strong enough to face Jasper…”

“Could we make a distraction?” Steven suggests, his voice tinged with the same sort of urgency she feels thrumming like a frantic drum line at the depths of her core.

Humming in thought, Ruby considers the status quo. To no success, she attempts to ignore her friends’ expectant gazes, trustingly falling upon her exactly like all those fellow rebellion soldiers used to look at Garnet… as their de facto leader. But she’s no leader, far from it. Garnet would barely have to think before coming up with a genius, foolproof plan, but she’s going into everything blind. She can’t weigh out potential consequences before rushing into action. She has no ability to pinpoint the most ideal outcome and work backwards from there. With all this in mind, it’s really no wonder that Garnet passed command of the group to Pearl instead of her. At least Pearl has experience leading missions solo.

And yet desperate times call for desperate measures.

She scans their surroundings for inspiration, considering what options may be open to them. At this point there’s no time to double back to the barn or the temple for reinforcements. (And she strongly doubts Lapis would care to so much as match eyes with Jasper, anyways.) One or more of them could always charge into the fray to attempt and break up this small skirmish by force, but that would risk their safety, too. The last thing she wants is to knowingly throw her friends into harm’s way. No, the best option would be breaking the two quartzes up using something in their immediate environment, something large and heavy but capable of being quickly moved, something like...

Her eyes snap wide. “That injector!” she whispers excitedly, pointing to the hulking piece of junked equipment precariously hanging from the cliff wall, only stabilized by a few legs that still penetrate the cracked sandstone. “It’s right above them. If we knocked it down, then maybe…”

Peridot flashes a hopeful smile, and nods.

“We’re on it,” Steven says, summoning his shield. The two of them glance at each other, perhaps silently coordinating their plan, and then leap into action.  

“Metal powers activate!” she exclaims, and throws her hands up in the direction of that rusted injector. 

Subtly but noticeable, its legs begin to shift and creak under the force of her ferrokinesis, loosening from the eroding stone. Licking his lips, Steven aims his weapon and hurls. It strikes the device directly at its center, clanging against solid metal. The injector wobbles for a moment, its delicate balance obviously destabilized by this force, and then begins to slide free from the porous kindergarten wall. One still-impacted leg snaps under the torque as the cylinder’s immense weight plummets towards the ground.

“Heads up!” Steven calls out, causing a bemused Jasper to flick her gaze skyward, towards the falling object staining the soil with an ever-growing shadow.

The collision of the junky old injector almost appears like a small explosion, flinging dirt a good ten feet into the air and resolutely separating the two quartzes. But Ruby barely has time to high five Peridot and celebrate their success before the kid she’s supposed to be keeping safe darts off into the clearing once more. She hisses a small curse under her breath. Drat, of course he’d run straight to Amethyst’s side again at his first opportunity! She should’ve seen that coming a whole star system away. At least Jasper’s been temporarily marooned on the other side of that busted Gem tech, though.

The real question is, for how long? 

Nibbling at her lip, she hastily sprints towards the edge of the injector to keep a watchful eye on their opponent as Steven attempts to have a mid-battlefield heart-to-heart. (At least, that’s what she assumes he’s doing. Admittedly, they kinda failed to hammer out the fine details of their plan before sprinting into action. Her fault.) Thankfully though, at first glimpse it seems the impact’s force has effortlessly knocked Jasper clear off her feet. She seems slightly dazed, but beyond that remains unscathed. Time will only tell if this strategy was a beneficial one. Briefly turning back towards the group, Ruby watches Steven crouch next to Amethyst. She’s muttering something to him, she thinks— her expression raw with fresh tears— but her words are far too hushed to make out. Whatever she shares, however, it’s clearly enough to elicit a strong emotional reaction from her companion.

“No, no!”  he pleads, hurt painting his features. “My mom- Rose, she doesn’t matter. Whatever Jasper thinks doesn’t matter. She's the only one who thinks you should be like her!”

“But-”

“Stop trying to be like Jasper. You're nothing like Jasper! You're like me!”

“But even you’re different!” she explodes at first, but any anger present in her form immediately evaporates into something more innately hesitant, more self-conscious. Her fingers claw thick troughs into the reddened soil as she curls them inwards. “I’m not like you at all, I’m not some di—��

“No, that’s not the point!” he says, tears of his own budding at the corners of his eyes. “You’re like me because we’re both not like anybody. And yeah, it sucks. Everyone always expects us to be someone we’re not, but you know what? At least I've always got you. And you've got me! So stop leaving me out of this!”

Slowly pushing herself to her feet behind the junked injector, Jasper groans, her voice strained with newfound exhaustion Ruby never imagined she possessed. 

“Y’guys, she’s getting up!” she calls out to her friends behind her, equally a warning as it is a call to action. After all, if this bold stunt finally managed to crack through the first layer of their opponent’s armor, then they might genuinely stand a chance now.

She’ll never know if they heard her, though— because in the same split second she turns back to check on them, the now embracing pair is engulfed in a blinding white light.

Even in the absence of a soldier's fire, everything turns to smoke.

[beewolfwrites]

And When I am Formulated, Sprawling on a Pin - Chapter Ten: A Train Whistle

A slightly shorter chapter this time, but hopefully short means sweet, maybe? 

You can find the full chapter (along with all the others) on AO3 here :)

Thanks for reading!!

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I couldn’t keep my eyes from the red stain on Chishiya’s hoodie as we entered the deserted shopping mall. He was walking and behaving just as usual, and his expression gave nothing away. Even when we had backed back to the park gates to collect the Two of Spades card, he hadn’t complained. But I knew he was in pain. He had to be.

‘We don’t have to do this,’ I repeated for the umpteenth time. My voice echoed through the empty mall. ‘I’ll go with someone else in my next game.’

He was strolling beside me, regarding the stores around us with boredom. ‘It doesn’t matter, since we’re already here.’  

‘There might be a pharmacy in here somewhere.’ I chewed on my lip, struggling not to let my anxiety get the best of me. ‘Maybe if I find some medical supplies, I could bandage it up.’

‘I wouldn’t trust you to bandage up anything,’ he replied. ‘I’ve seen the state of your arm.’

Any offence I felt at that comment was pushed aside, as I chalked it up to him being irritable. My arm wasn’t too bad, was it? No matter. I had to find some way of keeping him from moving too much and aggravating his wound.

Spotting a bench between two large artificial flower beds, I suggested, ‘why don’t you sit over there? I’ll be super-duper quick.’

His eyes slid over to mine, with a look that told me he knew exactly what I was thinking. ‘Fine, but there’s no point in rushing.’ Then pulling out his headphones, he took a seat on the bench, leaned back and closed his eyes.

Leaving him there, I nervously flitted about between stores. Most of them had been plundered and looted by players, and others had been turned into hideouts, soon abandoned after their owners had died. But some were untouched, and it was these stores that I visited first. I snagged two hoodies for myself, one pale purple and the other a sea green, along with several t-shirts, socks, jean shorts, and a new pair of trainers, as mine were stained with algae and squelched with every step.

It was strange. In the previous world, I had never been able to justify spending money on branded clothes. In fact, I never would have even touched the sportswear section. But now, I never knew who or what I might have to outrun, and it seemed like the obvious choice.

I was on my way to leave, when I drifted past the menswear section and suddenly remembered that the soggy hoodie I was wearing was tinged brown by the pond water.

‘I want that one back.’

‘Sorry, Chishiya,’ I muttered, picturing his disapproval. ‘I’ll get you a new one anyway.’

I began sifting through the men’s clothing section, searching for one just like what I was wearing. Only I couldn’t find it.

Come on, there has to be something he would wear in here.

Then I spied a flash of white hidden in the rails and picked out a clean white hoodie, very similar to the one he usually wore. He didn’t strike me as someone who would go for bright colours.

Something like this would do, right?

Swiping two bags from behind the till, I tipped the clothes into them, taking care that Chishiya’s new hoodie was folded up neatly.

And then there was the question of swimwear. Hatter’s rule was both disgusting and ridiculous, but I couldn’t exactly refuse.

Slipping into another sportswear shop, I managed to find a few one-piece swimsuits that could function as a t-shirt if I wore them with shorts. But for good measure, I grabbed a bikini, too. One that wasn’t quite as stringy as some of the options at the Beach.

Right, that’s it! I was finally done. He’s probably wondering where I’ve gotten to.

I left the store and started back to where I had left Chishiya. As I passed by the deadened shopfronts and frozen mannequins, my mind drifted back to his behavior in the park. I understood that he followed me because he was an executive, and he was technically supposed to keep an eye on my performance. But the way he had grabbed me when we encountered the hunter… the way his arms had squeezed me painfully close. I just couldn’t figure him out. The man was like a closed book, with front and back covers that looked the same, even upside down. I didn’t even know where to begin reading him.

Yet my skin still tingled where it had been pressed against his own. I could still feel the ghost of his body heat, and every shudder that passed through him in the cold. It was disconcerting. Chishiya almost seemed like a god, but he was so very, very human.

Don’t think too hard about it, I told myself. He was probably just toying with me back there.

As I walked past a window, something caught my eye. A sparkle from a jewellery store. It was only small, but it was like a treasure trove filled with gems, gold and silver.

I glanced down the mall. A few minutes is fine, right? Just a few minutes.

This wasn’t just any jewellery store; it was the expensive kind. The kind I used to covet in the real world for all its gemstones and silverwork. Exploring the glass cabinets, I peered at the spectrum of crystals until one ring caught my eye. A pear-shaped drop of labradorite, set on either side by sterling silver flowers.

‘I see you’re enjoying your freedom away from the Beach.’

Chishiya’s voice sounded from the entrance. He was eyeing the jewellery around him with skepticism.

‘Sorry,’ I said, sheepish. ‘I got a bit distracted.’

He shrugged. ‘I don’t care. Get whatever you want.’ He nodded at the ring. ‘Even that.’

‘I… I couldn’t.’

‘Suit yourself,’ he said, leaning against the wall, ‘though I didn’t take you for the materialistic type.’

Scowling at him, I mumbled, ‘it’s not like that at all.’

‘If it’s the idea of stealing that’s bothering you, it doesn’t make a difference. People murder each other every day.’

I felt the drip of blood tapping against my cheeks, and briefly closed my eyes. When I opened them again, the sensation had disappeared. ‘Has it ever occurred to you that jewellery isn’t just about the sparkly stuff?’

His eyes were focused on me with a quiet curiosity, although it no longer made me squirm.

When did I stop being bothered by it?

Looking at the labradorite ring, I tried to find the words to explain to him.

‘Back in the old world, I knew all about gemstones, the meanings of them, their histories, the legends,’ I told him, knowing he probably didn’t care. ‘Obviously, I’ve never really believed they cure illness or bring luck. I know it’s not possible, but they still felt pretty magical. I always hated diamonds though, since they just seem kind of soulless. But I always imagined…’ I trailed off, embarrassed. ‘It’s stupid, I know, but I always had this idea that if someone ever wanted to marry me, they’d choose a ring like this one, with a stone that has a meaning.’

I thought back to the teenage girl. Perhaps she had similar dreams. Maybe she had wanted to meet someone, get married, have children, grow old. And there was me, the murderer who wanted to fall in love. It was pathetic. When I glanced back to Chishiya, his eyes were closed as he rested against the wall.

Typical.

But just when I thought he hadn’t been listening to a word of what I’d said, he cracked an eye open. ‘It’s that level of naivety that’ll get you killed. I suppose you’ve got even more romantic ideas running around too.’

His words left me exposed. Vulnerable. But then I knew he was wrong about some things. I wasn’t completely naive, at least not in the way he was imagining.

‘Romance isn’t the same as love. Love is different.’

‘Love is for idiots with too much time on their hands,’ he said lazily.

‘No, romance is for idiots with too much time on their hands. Love isn’t nearly as obvious.’ I paused, thinking hard. ‘Have you read much by Haruki Murakami?’

‘He’s called Murakami Haruki over here, but no,’ he replied. ‘I haven’t. He’s not considered much of a literary figure in Japan. At least not by the critics.’

I smiled. ‘Perhaps not here, but the rest of the world thinks so.’

Thinking back over what I had read, I fished around for a specific title, but the name escaped me. ‘There’s a short story of his,’ I explained. ‘He compares the feeling of being in love to a train whistle.’

Chishiya looked at me with disinterest, but I could see something in his gaze. He was following along.

Even though it had been years since I first read it, I recalled the story vividly. ‘Imagine at night, you wake up and you have this sudden, horrible feeling that you could disappear at any moment. But at the same time, you feel you could explode. It’s that kind of emptiness that swallows you up. There’s no meaning to anything, and you no longer care whether you live or die. In fact, you don’t even know whether you’re really alive or dead at all. You’re just suffocating in nothingness.’

Chishiya turned fully toward me. ‘And?’

I gave him a smile. ‘And then you hear a train whistle. It’s far away, and the sound is so tiny you can hardly hear it. But it cuts through the isolation. You’re no longer floating as long as you can hear that whistle.’ I nodded to myself. ‘That’s love, at least to me. It sort of creeps up behind you, and by the time you realise it’s there, it’s too late. You’re already trapped.’

There was a moment of silence where he didn’t respond. Then he said, in the quietest voice possible, ‘how unpleasant.’

Things became awkward after that, and every attempt I made to strike up conversation was met with stiffness on Chishiya’s part. Slowly and silently, we began to head back to the Beach. The bags were uncomfortable to carry, but I didn’t want to ask Chishiya for a hand. Not with his injury. Even now, the blood stain on his clothes had grown bigger.

I suggested again that he should see An, but he dismissed the comment entirely. It was as if his mood had flipped, the amusement having drained out of him, leaving nothing but the cold.

We passed through derelict streets decorated with unlit signs and empty windows, until the Beach finally came into view in a cacophony of music, screams and spotlights. As I shuffled through a back entrance to avoid the crowds, I found that Chishiya had disappeared without a word, probably to his room, or perhaps even to find An. I still had the replacement hoodie I’d found for him, but it could wait until after he’d received medical aid.

I passed through the hotel halls, and turned a corner, almost bumping into Kuina. She was holding a drink in one hand, and her mouth stretched into a wide smile when she saw me.

‘I see you made it! How did it go?’ Leaning back, she assessed me from head to toe. ‘You look like you’ve been thrown into a swamp.’

‘Two of Spades, and you’re close. Chishiya made me swim in a pond.’ I said, stifling a yawn. ‘Where are you heading?’

She shook her glass, the ice tinkling. ‘The pool. Thought I’d live a little. Why don’t you join me? You look like you could use a drink.’

I shivered in my still-damp clothes. ‘Ah, it’s okay. I’ll pass for tonight,’ I said. ‘I’m really tired after the game. Plus, these clothes are icky.’

Kuina snickered. ‘You don’t say. Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find me.’ With that, she disappeared down the hall, waving to me as she went.

Ducking away from the chaotic drunks in the hallways, I crawled all the way up to my room, before realising I had forgotten to ask Kuina about the hoodie, about why she never told me it belonged to Chishiya.

I’ll do it next time I see her. I’m too tired now.

Sighing, I didn’t even bother to turn on the lights as I dumped the bags of clothes onto the floor. After being drenched in pond water, I definitely needed a shower. But the combination of the Hunting Season game and the walk back through Tokyo had sapped all my energy.

Tomorrow, I can take a shower and wash the bed linen and Chishiya’s hoodie tomorrow. For now…

I curled up, still in my clothes, and slipped away into a quiet sleep. And for the first time since the Hearts game, I dreamt of nothing. Not the businessman’s starched collar… nor the cool twinge of gunmetal… or even the drip of blood against my eyelids; just blackness.

Outside, the shadows of hollow buildings blurred together into a vacant grey space. A cool wind blew through the alleyways, catching the edges of roof tiles, and slipping into a gentle whistle that rang through Tokyo at midnight.

[pearlplusau]

Pearlplusau Chapter 7 Part 3 – Tower of mistakes I

Back to the kindergarten, where earth life failed to re-take what was theirs, preserved its gloominess even after the only living being that left came back a few moments ago.

The Crystal Gems, Rose, Garnet, Pearl and Coral materialized from the temple and on to the shiny warp pad. The four commenced their search in the vast range of the kindergarten.

The eerie and unsettling kindergarten had seen better days, with the abducted nutrients and life of the place, it seemed to be getting worse and worse every time they visited.

The gems considered checking the holes one by one, just to see if Amethyst was hiding in any of them.

As Pearl leaped onto one of the holes on the wall, she encountered the hole filled with a cloud of dust blown into her face. She quickly retreated and exclaimed, “Gah! *cough cough* Ughh!” as she jumped back down with the others covered in dust.

As Pearl dusted herself off, she informed her findings to the group, “Look at all these *cough* dust, they’re everywhere! How can you even see with all this smoke everywhere? It didn’t use to look like this when we came here last time-”

Coral thought about it and suggested, “Well, it has been a very long time since we’ve visited this place. The situation became worse with time, look! All the life from this land got sucked away-

The gem leader interrupted the pearl’s observation, “And it’s all our fault, those diamonds knew about it too. We weren’t creating life from nothing, we were taking life from this beautiful land, and leaving nothing behind…

The fusion approached the closest wall and brushed it with her fingers. Dusts and grime were removed where Garnet interceded. “This is not a safe place for gems, especially gems without training, there could be gem monsters lurking around, and if they find her at the end, things will not go well for anyone.”

Just the thought of Amethyst being at risk and exposed to this place, this root of all their problems, this place where it all started. The giant pink gem couldn’t bear to imagine the dangers lurking around this place, much less how the little gem would have kept herself safe for much longer!

“Come on gems,” Rose led the way deeper into the kindergarten, “Let’s find Amethyst and get out of here.”

As the gems ventured, they did a quick review on the Injectors, making sure none of them were activated since the entire operation was shut down. Most of them were immediately deemed as untouched as evident by the layers of dust accumulated on the machines themselves.

While they searched, Rose asked the fusion for any possible outcomes from her future vision. “Do you see anything regarding us finding Amethyst? Preferably being very quick and easy?”

The fusion was trying her best, but she was unable to search for a possibility of them finding the gem without knowing the gem.

“Unfortunately, no. I can’t exactly predict someone’s future if I have no clue what she’s like. If you can let me know what her way of thinking is, then maybe there might be a chance to get to her faster.” The fusion suggested.

“Her way of thinking?” Rose echoed and took some time to properly consider and recall her interactions with the little gem, “To be completely honest with you Garnet, I’ve only found her for less than a day. I got so caught up in trying to protect her and have her join the Crystal Gems, I wasn’t exactly paying much attention to what she was trying to show me, not to mention the things she was trying to tell me!”

“Then this search party,” Garnet informed, “Might take a while.”

The four gems looked around the first few segments of the kindergarten, until Rose led them to where she found her.

The pink figure peeked around into the hole, but saw no Amethyst inside.

“This is where I found her, it’s the only hole that can be easily differentiated from the others.” She backed out from the hole and tried to think, “She did show me a bunch of other places, pretty sure there was this… rock collection? Something about a sitting rock?”

As the leader wracked her brain, trying to figure out the possible hiding places the little gem could be. A boulder appeared on the edge of the wall above them, slowly it was pushed off the edge of the wall, and it was about to land right on top of the gems.

As the boulder’s shadow grew, Garnet immediately noticed the upcoming danger and shouted to the group, “Gems! Scatter!”

Just as the boulder was about to come in contact with Rose’s scalp, the four gems leaped into all directions away from the boulder as it crashed into the space in front of Amethyst’s hole.

Coral tumbled and landed the furthest away from the boulder, and saw a figure on top of the wall, along with multiple boulders lined up along the edge. “Look! Someone’s pushing boulders off the edge of the wall!”

The gems immediately gathered to see who it was, Rose was the first to realize and gasped, “I-its Amethyst! What is she doing up there!?”

Just as she questioned it, the purple gem was attempting to push another boulder directing to the gems once more, her expression filled with rage and anguish, with no showcase of sympathy for the gems she was about to injure.

“Amethyst No!” Rose shouted as she shook her arms, hoping to get her attention before her next push. “Stop this! What are you doing!? You’re gonna get hurt!”

On top of the wall, Amethyst was grunting and using all her might to shove the boulder over the edge, trying to ignore Rose’s pleads.

When the boulder finally reached the edge of the wall, it plummeted straight down but failed to land further than the previous rock. The giant stone landed right next to boulder number 1 and made no more attempts to move after the fall.

Amethyst saw the little impact of the second boulder and stomped at the edge, proceeding with boulder number 3.

“No! Amethyst! Stop! “Amethyst please! This isn’t a safe place for you! We have to leave, let’s get out of the kindergarten and go back home!”

Rose was pulling out all the stops, but it only made things worse.

Amethyst heard the plea this time, but she made no effort in stopping as she grumbled loud enough for Rose to hear, “Nononononono! Stopstopstopstop!”

As Rose was trying to get through the little gem, Garnet quickly gathered the two pearls and tried to come up with ideas for their situation. “Something’s not right.”

Pearl threw her arms to the sky and exclaimed, “Of course something’s not right! That little twerp is causing mayhem by trying to crush us with giant boulders! How did she even get them up there?!”

Coral was looking back and forth between Rose and Amethyst, “We have to do something! One of them could get hurt! Do you guys understand anything she’s screaming about?”

On que, Amethyst cried out even louder than before, “No! No go back! Kindergarten home! KINDERGARTEN HOME!”

“Ahh, guess someone’s not ready for change in her life.” She commented before the trio got back to their leader.

-

A few miles away from the kindergarten, existed a burrow with a giant slumbering red snake gem taking residence. The snake was as large as a typical gem monster (about the size of the centipeetle) with red scales and something attached to its end that makes a rattling sound ever so often. A bright red gem was located on the chest area, as well as a pale yellow rattle at the end of its tail.

Unfortunately for the untimely contraptions caused by a stubborn purple gem in the distance, the borrow shook from every boulder that crashed into the ground, causing dirt and dust to splatter onto the snake monster, which rudely woke up the monster from its slumber. Additionally, the repetitive protests of the purple gem became louder and louder, and ultimately it became so loud that even beings underground were unable to tune it off.

The combination of the shaking burrow and loud screaming got the snake gem enraged, it snapped its bright yellow eyes open and directly slithered towards the kindergarten.

Above the slithering snake monster, Rose was trying her best to discourage the purple gem’s choice of action. Unfortunately, either the gem above didn’t want to listen, or there was something else that’s overpowering her.

Pearl stood next to her leader, trying to get her out of harm's way. “Rose, she’s not listening. This is a really dangerous situation we’re in, maybe we should let it out of her system and come back later!”

Rose refused to leave her, not again. “No! We can’t give up yet! I just need to get through her! That’s all!”

As the four gems evaded all the boulders that could potentially crush them if not paid attention, they failed to register the idea that the contraptions would attract a nearby corrupted gem monster.

Garnet was the only one feeling something moving beneath her. She noticed the being travelling from the ground level and slowly making its way upwards towards Amethyst and her row of boulders.

“There’s something going after her.” The fusion concluded.

The snake reached to the top of the wall, it cautiously broke out of the dirt and approached the purple gem with no more than a peep. The monster sneaked up on the unaware gem and readied its stance.

The monster loomed over with great height, narrowed its eyes, bared its fangs, and made one last move before it attacked. “You have awakened me from my slumber,” it seemed to say as it rose behind the gem, “and now, you will shatter.”

Hissss-

The purple gem’s next push was interrupted by the unexpecting snake guest. She turned around just in time to see the maw of the snake as it lunged towards her face. On instinct, Amethyst leaped backwards to avoid the snake monster’s bite, but in exchange, she tripped and fell over the edge of the wall.

The momentum of the snake lunging into Amethyst did not stop, therefore it proceeded to fall with the said gem over the cliff.

The gems below screamed in horror as both figures fell right in front of them. Rose summoned a giant protective bubble around her and the gems just in time!

Both Amethyst and the snake monster landed with a loud crash. When the mayhem and cloud dusts subsided, the purple gem looked unhurt, but so was the monster as it shook off the debris on its head and found Amethyst behind!

Amethyst was between the wall and the monster, so the only method of escape was to hide in the hole of the wall.

The small sized hole did not stop the monster’s pursuit as it smacked itself into the wall. The stubborn snake was persistent as it proceeded to smash itself head first into the hole. Fortunately, its head was too big to even fit into the hole. Unfortunately for the wall, its consistent smashing was causing various rocks to fall off, causing more destruction to the wall than it has already endured.

Pearl, being one of the gems to witness the whole thing, turned to her leader and demanded, “Rose! What should we do?”

Unfortunately, Rose was being too fixated on Amethyst to get the question.

The fusion Garnet being logical, suggested their next move, “We have to get that monster's attention! Rose! Any ideas?”

As Rose watches the monster repeatedly slamming itself into Amethyst's hiding, she notices the walls were cracking and were not going to last long, she released the bubble and charged straight into the chaos! “Amethyst! Stay right there! I’ll save you!”

Coral tried to take hold of Rose, but she was out of reach of her grasp, “Rose wait!”

Rose dove into the chaos without taking in the monster’s size. Just when she was at reach of Amethyst’s hiding, the monster swung its rattle tail, smacked the leader and got her flying into the air!

The three gems gasped as their leader flung overhead, who looked to be in shock from the impact.

The pink figure slammed head first into the opposing wall, promptly collapsing from the impact, leaving giant cracks left on the wall as the indication of how much force was in that knockout.

The three gems shrieked in terror of their leader's collapse. They recalled immediate flashbacks to the horrid war and a similar situation such as this.

Garnet took immediate charge, “Coral! Get Rose out of here! Pearl! I hope you’re ready, we need someone with a giant mallet to take care of that thing!”

“Got it!”

“Understood!”

Coral ran towards their leader while Pearl took Garnet’s hands and performed a quick fusion dance of ballet, twirling and mystic hip moves.

The first thing Coral had to check was the gemstone, and sure enough, it was undamaged, which gave out a huge relief. The next thing she had to do was to take her somewhere out of danger. Luckily, there were various walls and rocks to take cover, so Coral did the next best thing: dragged her leader by the arms towards the nearest cover until she woke up, and believe her, Rose was not someone you would want to be passing out or even passing around in a battlefield.

The fusion dance ended in both gems syncing into a single form with a single goal, to take care of the gem monster.

It has only been a few times since the two gems tried fusing, but the fusion was well established on her role and literal character trait. She still retained the round shoulder pads and light blue suit from her respective counterparts, as if she has yet to establish her own outfit.

“Gooooood Evening everyone!” The giant fusion generously announced as she took in the situation. “Looks like we have a little surprise guest! Why don’t you turn your head for a change and pay attention to the cam- to me?”

The entrance did not however, capture the monster’s attention as it persistently focused on the hole that was way too small to fit into.

The fusion was very much offended, but still maintained her showmanship for the audience. “Seriously? Nothing? There was that bright ray of stage light that shouldn’t even be possible under all these gloomy clouds. I even used my loud and charming voice to announce my amazing entrance!”

The corrupted snake monster proceeded to ignore Sardonyx’s demand and presumed to snake its way into Amethyst’s hole at the base of the wall.

The fusion recalled her goal of temporary existence, to save the little gem in the hole and get the monster’s attention.

She summoned Pearl’s spear and Garnet’s gauntlets. She chuckled as she combined the two weapons, forming it into a giant mallet. “Hmm, mayybeee this will get your attention!” She said as she twirled to get that extra spinning hit!

“Hammer time!” she exclaimed as she whooped the monster with her mallet.

With one hit, the monster finally turned its head around and was immediately met with a second hit into the wall. The damage might not be as one might expect but taking it out before it takes out the entire wall seemed like a plan.

While Sardonyx does a number on the gem monster, Amethyst was trembling in her hiding place, trying her best not to cry out of fear. When the monster was repeatedly slamming itself into her hiding, she could see the cracks on the walls getting bigger and bigger, with a few more hits, the hole might not be able to maintain its form and collapse from the effort. Potentially poofing and shattering the gem within.

Amethyst wasn’t sure what would happen next, but the fear made her realize what she might miss if she gets trapped forever.

She would miss her little playground she called home, her officially claimed rock titles, and her rock family she gathered! But what surprised her was that she would also miss the sunshine on the other side of her world, those flowers she pranced over like a baby goat, and most of all, she would miss the nice lady that brought her there! Even if she wasn’t exactly the happiest gem in her place of home, she was still the nicest being she’s ever met!

As the purple gem went through her thoughts, she hugged her legs and curled into a ball within the deepest part of the hole she emerged from. Hoping that if she had to go, she would go back to where she came from…

End of Part 3

(A/N: If you noticed, the title of the chapter is "Tower of Mistakes I", marking it being part 1 of the part 3...chapter...

Tbh I couldnt think of a better name since i had "Tower of Mistakes" as the entire end of the chapter until I had to split it into two parts.

Anyways, one of the artwork up there might look more like a doodle, but its not traced so i guess its still something! Also that snake trace was from my internship, which I'll let you guys check it out later with the references.

I gave some friends of mine early access to the story till the finale and they've loved it and commented it being heartwarming. Hopefully thats gonna be your reaction as well when we reach the finale!

Again, this is mostly a writing blog, so if you have a critique about the story that could make it better, I'll be more than happy to take a look and possibly even adjust the story accordingly! Questions and asks are welcome! Just not about Tripixle again, She's long retired and I've tagged our last interaction together at the pinned post.

If you've read till the end, thank you for reading what I have to say, i respect that!

See you guys next week! )

[storytellerofuntoldlegends]

an icarus and his sun: chapter 10

A/N: y’all ever think about that one empires episode of pearl’s where she helps sausage fight off a raid and that turns into a pvp battle between them, and she absolutely destroys him? yeah me too. also check out this awesome art by @amostfoolishgold​! anyway back to jimmy pov!

Warnings: injury, unconsciousness, fevers, talk of death, violence, corruption/infection, self-blame

AO3 Link - Tumblr Masterpost

-

The sun was nearing the horizon, casting the Overgrown in a golden glow. The castle was beginning to take shape, but they had unfortunately run low on materials, and Joel and Lizzie weren’t back from their gathering trip yet. So for the moment, they all just sat in the half-constructed shell of a castle, having light conversation as they waited for Joel and Lizzie to arrive. But soon enough, the conversation dwindled into an awkward silence. That is, until Gem stood up with a determined look in her eyes and a gentle smile.

“Why don’t we head to my empire for dinner? We’ve been working hard all day and could use a break!” she said brightly. Jimmy wasn’t sure how he felt about Gem quite yet, after everything that had happened- but she and Pearl had been a huge help. Meanwhile Shelby looked intrigued by the offer, and while Katherine first nervously glanced to the horizon, she looked back to Gem with a smile.

“That is very kind of you, Gem. I’d love to- we should probably just leave a note for Joel and Lizzie to let them know where we’ve gone,” Katherine said, standing up as well. Gem looked to Jimmy semi-nervously- and well, Jimmy was always a bit of a softie, wasn’t he? He smiled at Gem and stood up too.

“That does sound nice, thank you for inviting us,” Jimmy said. Gem beamed, and Pearl looked relieved as she stood up next to Gem.

“Well, you definitely won’t see me complaining about free food!” Shelby chimed in, hopping up to her feet. That caused the group to break into laughter, and the air between them felt comfortable again.

Once Katherine had written the note and put it where Lizzie and Joel could easily find it, the five of them (minus Pearl, who had wings) equipped their elytra and flew off to the Crystal Cliffs. When they first arrived there, everything seemed normal. The grand cliffs themselves, the buildings nestled in and around them, the towers- it was a beautiful and mystical place. But there was something blue, white, and gold that stood out in a heap on the ground near one of the buildings- a very familiar something blue, white and gold.

“Oh my god-” Gem started, landing on the ground beside the figure.

“Is that-” Pearl said, unable to finish the thought as she landed just behind Gem.

“Scott?” Jimmy finished, voice shaking as he came in for a bit of an unsteady landing a few feet away from where Scott laid on the ground, breathing shallow and upon a closer look, something red pulsing and spreading beneath his skin like some sort of vine. Jimmy barely registered Katherine and Shelby landing on either side of him, too focused on what was before him.

“This- this red stuff reminds me of the redstone spikes in Fwhip’s empire- or maybe something from the nether?” Gem pondered as she knelt beside Scott, a purple glow coming over her hand as she reached out towards the infection in his arm.

“I’ve seen that before,” Shelby said, voice sounding distant and laced with horror. Everyone turned to look at her, surprised to hear such a terrified tone of voice from the usually enthusiastic gnome.

“The infection?” Pearl asked.

“The corruption. I’ve seen it happen to my people back home, until it consumed them until there was nothing left- it’s why I came here, to try and find a cure or some way to stop it. But nothing worked,” Shelby explained shakily, sounding like she was on the verge of tears. Jimmy felt like he was going to cry too- and some awful part of himself thought that he should be glad that this happened to Scott, that it served him right after betraying Jimmy and breaking his heart- but he couldn’t. Despite everything Scott had done, despite never wanting to see Scott again- none of that meant that Jimmy didn’t want a world where the winged elf wasn’t in it. And what about what Pearl had said? Scott didn’t seem happy with Fwhip either, but now Jimmy would never know the truth. Not if it died with Scott.

Jimmy was so wrapped up in his conflicted mess of emotions that he didn’t even notice that someone else had flown in until Katherine let out a sharp gasp. He tore his gaze away from Scott to see what had caused that reaction from Katherine- and saw Fwhip. A mix of anger and terror boiled in his veins and swirled in his stomach at the sight of him. Fwhip looked baffled to see so many people in Gem’s empire, and plastered on a forced friendly smile. Jimmy’s hand found Katherine’s, and she squeezed it back tightly with no intention of letting go.

“Gem! Hi, so I wanted to smooth things over- I think we left things on a bad note-”

“What did you do to Scott,” Gem demanded, cutting off Fwhip as she stood up from beside Scott. Purple sparks danced in the air around her, and Jimmy swallowed nervously- he didn’t think he had ever seen Gem seem so intimidating before. Jimmy was relieved to see that Fwhip looked nervous too.

“Well, I haven’t seen Scott since our meeting, he seemed upset when he left- weird that he ended up here- y’know I was actually gonna go and talk to him after you-”

“If by talk, you mean do whatever you did to Scott to us?!” Pearl demanded, hand on the hilt of her sword as she took a step forward to stand beside Gem.

“I didn’t-”

“I’ve had enough of your lies, Fwhip. What. Did. You. Do,” Gem said evenly. Fwhip swallowed nervously, before sighing and finally giving in.

“Okay, so I may have set a few traps in his empire and got Sausage to help me with letting a raid infiltrate his village and the surrounding lands- but I figured Scott could handle a few traps and some mobs, it was only meant to be a warning, I never meant to kill him! He must have really gotten soft if he couldn’t deal with it,” Fwhip rambled. Gem and Pearl seemed semi-satisfied with his answer, but Pearl kept her hand on her sword and purple sparks still danced around Gem. But there was something that Fwhip said that bothered Jimmy, and along with what Pearl had said… guilt was beginning to settle in the pit of his stomach.

“What do you mean by that?” Jimmy asked tentatively. Fwhip let out a harsh laugh, turning to Jimmy incredulously.

“The idiot actually fell for you. He was just supposed to be a distraction, a contingency plan to make sure you wouldn’t be trouble. But he got in too deep, and look where that got him,” Fwhip scoffed, looking down at Scott’s deathly still form in disdain. Guilt was crashing on Jimmy in waves now. He had pushed Scott away. Scott had actually cared about him and he pushed him away. And then he had no one to go to for help when Fwhip decided to send a “warning” and got hurt as a result.

“You’re lucky I’m a pacifist,” Katherine spat, more angry than Jimmy had ever heard her. He wished he could have shared her anger, shouted at Fwhip too- but Jimmy just felt numb.

“Well unluckily for Fwhip, I don’t have that problem,” Pearl fumed, drawing her sword. Fwhip started to scramble back as Pearl leapt at him. His backwards stumble turned into a run, and Pearl kept pace with him just fine, using her wings if necessary and brandishing her sword to chase him away.

“Pearl can handle him- can you three help me get Scott to the apothecary? I’d do it by myself, but he’s tall and there’s the bulk of his wings to worry about too,” Gem asked, looking down at Scott worriedly.

“Erm- right, of course,” Jimmy said, letting go of Katherine’s hand to join Gem at Scott’s side.

“Hold on- go to the other side and help me turn him over,” Gem said. Jimmy did as she asked, and being mindful of his wings, the two of them gently rolled Scott over so he was on his back. Scott was feverish to the touch, and even unconscious his expression was contorted with pain.

“He’s hot,” Jimmy said, distant horror in his tone.

“Now isn’t the time for that, Jimmy,” Gem teased, trying to lessen the tension in the air. Jimmy’s face scrunched up in irritation as he half-heartedly glared at her.

“He has a fever, Gem,” Jimmy huffed. Gem laughed nervously.

“I know, I know, just trying to make this less terrible than it is,” Gem sighed. Jimmy gave her a weak smile, and together the two of them gently lifted Scott up. Jimmy ended up mostly holding Scott, while Gem supported his wings. Scott’s head lolled against his shoulder, labored breaths fanning his neck. Jimmy should have felt embarrassed or flustered, cradling Scott like this- but he was too concerned with how limp and unresponsive Scott felt in his arms.

“I’ll get the doors for you!” Shelby offered, quickly making her way over to the apothecary door. Katherine hovered around Jimmy and Gem semi-anxiously, making sure that they had a good hold on Scott as they made their way over to the apothecary. But all went well, and they were able to safely transport Scott into one of the apothecary beds. He had begun to shiver and tremble every so often now, and Jimmy could have sworn the corruption had spread, reaching his fingertips.

“There’s gotta be a way to stop that, or at least slow it down,” Gem murmured in thought, pulling up a chair to sit at Scott’s side. She reached out to the cut where the corruption on Scott’s arm stemmed from, hand glowing purple again. She closed her hand over it, and her eyes began to glow the same purple as her hand. But then the glow flickered, turning red for a moment before it dissipated entirely and Gem drew her hand back with a yelp, stumbling backwards out of her seat beside Scott’s bed. Jimmy scrambled over to help her up, eyes darting nervously between her and Scott.

“Is everything alright? I chased Fwhip off, but I swear if he’s done something in here…” Pearl trailed off as she walked into the apothecary, eyes zeroing on Gem as she rubbed at her temples.

“I’m fine. The corruption- it fought back. It’s… alive, somehow,” Gem said with morbid curiosity in her tone.

“It’s a type of fungus. That’s as much as my people could figure out before I came here to try and find a cure. The red stuff is everywhere in my old home- even if you tried to get rid of it, it would just come back. And in the cases where it latched onto a person… there was no getting it out,” Shelby explained, sounding like she was going to cry. Gem hummed thoughtfully.

“Did you try any sort of magic with it?” she asked.

“No, my people were not magic-users- in fact I’d hardly seen magic before I came here, where the air seems charged with the stuff,” Shelby replied, gesturing around her. A determined expression came over Gem’s face.

“Then I’m not gonna stop trying. I don’t know if I can fully fight off the corruption, but I definitely think I can slow its spread. In the meantime, we’re gonna need to get Scott’s fever down- at this rate, that’ll kill him before the corruption will,” Gem said, resting the back of her hand on Scott’s forehead and frowning.

“He’s probably a little beat-up too- Fwhip did say he trapped his empire,” Katherine added. Gem nodded in agreement.

“We’ll need cool water and cloth to make a compress for his forehead- and I should have some healing potions around here- it couldn’t hurt to brew some more though too, just in case,” Gem rambled, starting to stand up before Pearl put up a hand.

“You two stay here with Scott, I know where you keep things around here. Katherine, Shelby and I can worry about getting things for you,” she soothed. Jimmy tilted his head in confusion.

“Wait, I can help get things too…” Jimmy trailed off uncertainly.

“You can help if you want. I just figured you’d wanna stick by Scott,” Pearl shrugged with a gentle smile. Jimmy flushed slightly as he looked down at the floor, away from Pearl’s knowing stare.

“I… yeah. I’ll stick by Scott,” he said softly, gaze shifting to look at the winged elf who always managed to make his emotions into a muddled mess. Scott was an enemy, a friend, a- a something, then an enemy again- but whatever Scott was to Jimmy now, he knew one thing: he wasn’t letting Scott out of his sight again. Doing so the last time caused this to happen. He had to be there if- no, when Scott woke up. He had to apologize for pushing him away, and hope that maybe Scott still cared about him after everything that had happened to accept it.

-

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[motherfingtitan]

Hi! Big fan of your fics. I have a suggestion for one: the basic idea is that the Lower Decks characters (mainly the Warp Core Four) get involved with the ep. "Trials and Tribble-ations" Meet both DS9 and TOS crew in a subtle/not-so-subtle way (PARADOX!). Bonus: They are drawn and animated in TAS Filmation style, with some of them slightly aware. Maybe a bit of Mariner x Boimler? Hope you have fun with the idea.

Time Tribbles

The Warp Core Four decides to go back in time to the Enterprise to do some not-so-scientific research on Tribbles. They come across not one, but two famous Starfleet Crews

Tendi dragged herself to her bunk. She was absolutely exhausted from pulling double shifts in Medbay to make up for the influx of patients. Earlier today, some of the food replicators were producing food at extreme temperatures. They were also uncontrollably spewing food out, and in the case of ten forward, literally spraying boiling nacho cheese. Crew members had been in and out all day with burns. Just as she sat on her bed, she saw Mariner down the hallway. Both of them waved to each other.

"Yo, Tendi, what's up?" Mariner said as she walked up to her.

"Nothing much; I’m just exhausted from all the activity in Medbay. I did see somebody with a nacho cheese burn in the shape of an Orion continent!" She smiled.

"I have something that will cheer you up!" Mariner held up her finger and ran off, going to get her special piece of contraband.

After a few minutes, she returned with a Tribble in hand. It had brown fur and little white patches. She handed the Tribble to Tendi and sat down next to her. The cooing of the ball of fur filled the room.

"Personally, I would prefer getting drunk, but I thought this might be more up your alley" Beckett smiled as Tendi ran her hand through the fur, her eyes lit up.

"This is the cutest thing ever," Tendi squealed. She then spoke in baby talk to the Tribble, "Yes you are, you are the cutest little Tribble on this ship.”

She continued to pet the Tribble for a couple of minutes before finally speaking, "You know, I've always wanted to see a Tribble reproduce. I know that the ones they sell at the pet stores are neutered."

Beckett thought for a second before finally speaking. "Ok, so I got this really cool piece of contraband from the planet we did second contact with a couple of weeks back. I've been testing it, and I think it opens up portals to different times. We could go back in time to see Tribbles reproduce."

"But isn't that against the rules?”

"Yes, but it's for science, so it's probably ok. Come on, let get Rutherford and Boimler."

…

A few hours later, the four Ensigns were in an empty part of the docking bay. All of them were wearing 2260s uniforms. Tendi messed with her holographic disguise, trying to find the right hairstyle. She felt odd with blonde hair and peachy skin, but there was no way she could go back in time looking like an Orion. Enterprise crew members would ask too many questions.

"Bangs or no Bangs?" She adjusted her holographic remote, letting it flip through different hairstyles.

"Definitely the Bangs," Rutherford gave a thumbs up before continuing his excitement-filled lecture about Constitution-class ships. “Did you know that turbolifts were not completely voice-controlled back then? You had to hold down a bar for them to work.”

"Mariner, are you sure we should be doing this. Time travel is against 253.7-" Boimler began before being cut off Mariner.

"Rules, Schmules. Come on, Boims, this could be your one chance to see Kirk in flesh and blood."

"Fine, but I'm keeping you in check," he spoke.

Beckett then pulled out the small blue stone from her trouser pocket. It glowed softly in her hand. She set it down and stated where she wanted to go "Stardate 4523.3, USS Enterprise 1701."

The store glowed brighter until it flashed, opening up a small portal to the other ship. Its corridors were empty, meaning the Ensigns could slip in undetected.

"Ready to do science stuff?" Mariner asked Tendi.

She bounced in excitement, nodding rapidly. Mariner was the first to step into the portal. She felt slight tingles all over her body as she popped out on the other side. The Enterprise looked much different than the ships of her time. The lights had colored tints, and more equipment was exposed. Rutherford came out of the portal next, slightly dizzy but extremely excited to see such an old ship. Tendi and Boimler followed. Once through the portal, it returned to its original gem form.

Boimler slowly stood up, trying to shake off how dizzy he felt. "I feel so stiff and kinda cheap too,"

"You look different," Rutherford pointed out

"Oh god! Am I phasy again?!?"

"No, but your eyes look smaller," Tendi looked at all of them. "We all look kinda different."

"Probably some stupid time travel stuff, come on, let's got find some Tribbles!" Mariner shoved the gem in her pocket and started down the hallway, followed by the other four.

Soon, they came to the main corridor that was bustling with people. The women styled their hair in extravagant bumps and wore earrings. Most wore minidresses, a popular style in the 2260s, but a couple wore the tunic style uniform, just as Mariner was. The sound of boots tapping filled the hallway, and the gold rank bands on the officer sleeve sparkled among the sea of yellow, red, and blue. Perhaps the most striking thing, however, was the lack of aliens. The vast majority of the officers were human, a stark contrast from how diverse the Cerritos was.

Suddenly, Mariner stopped and motioned to the other three to get against the wall. From just around the corner, two very famous Starfleet officers could be heard.

"Is that Kirk?" Boimler asked

Mariner nodded, feeling just as excited as the rest of them but doing an excellent job of hiding it. Kirk and Spock were speaking with someone through the communication unit.

"Bridge to Captain Kirk." A young man with a Russian accent spoke.

"Kirk here." The captain responded

“Mister Baris is waiting on channel E to speak to you, sir."

Mariners’ heart was beating fast. She may have acted like she didn't care, but she did grow up as a Starfleet brat, and though she may have seen Captain Kirk in a holodeck simulation, it wasn't the same as being a couple of feet away from him.

"Mister Baris is coming on." The young man spoke again.

"Yes, Mister Baris. What can I do for you?" Kirk’s voice was pleasant

"Kirk, this station is swarming with Klingons." A man by the name of Baris replied.

"I was not aware, Mister Baris, that twelve Klingons constitutes a swarm."

"Captain Kirk, I consider your security measures a disgrace. In my opinion, you have taken this entire..."

At this point, Boimler had lost focus on that conversation as his eyes drifted to the other side of the hallway. There, a man with a deeper voice and a tall woman spoke. Both looked as if they were doing routine maintenance. The woman kept glancing back at the captain and the first officer.

"I had no idea." The woman began

"What?" The man replied, fiddling with some machinery.

“He's so much more handsome in person. And those eyes."

"Kirk had quite the reputation as a ladies' man."

"Not him. Spock."

Boimler noticed that, just like him, they looked out of place. He continued to listen.

"I can't believe you don't at least want to meet Captain Kirk."

"That's the last thing on my mind."

"Oh, come on, Benjamin. Are you telling me you're not the tiniest bit interested in meeting one of the most famous men in Starfleet history?"

Benjamin? He thought as he slowly went through all the people he knew named Benjamin in his head.

Benjamin Anderson

Benjamin Taylor

Benjamin Sisko

Sisko!

It was Captain Sisko! And the woman next to him must be one of his crew members. Jadzia Dax, maybe? His face twisted in confusion. What was he doing in this time?

"Guys, look!" Boimler whispered and motioned his head to the other side of the hallway.

"Is that... Sisko?" Rutherford asked. "He looks different," he added, still getting used to how everything looked in this period.

"Two famous Starfleet Captains in one day?!?" Tendi bounced on her heels.

"Why is he here?" Boimler looked at Mariner.

"I don't know, something to do with a Tribble and a bomb,"

"A bomb?!"

She shrugged. "Relax, it's on the space station. We will stay on the ship,"

"How do you even know all this?"

"I have my ways,"

The Ensigns decided that it was time to get moving. They didn't want to create too much suspicion by huddling up against the wall. The halls were so crowded, Constitution-class ships were certainly packed, even without the hallway bedrooms of the Cerritos. The colored lights enthralled Tendi. She was so used to sterile fluorescent lights that the soft blues, purples, and yellows were dazzling. She had read about these types of ships, but reading about it and seeing it were two different things.

"Gosh, I love Constitution-class ships," Tendi said.

But there was no response. She twisted her head back and forth, slightly panicking that she had lost her other three friends. She wanted to yell out their names, but that would raise too many questions. She would have to silently slither through the confusing corridors of the ship to find them, all while looking natural. Looking back and forth one more time, she decided to continue forward. Turning down a hallway, she noticed that there was a turbolift at the end. Inside were two men. One was a bulkier man in a red shirt, while the other man with slicked-back hair wore blue with a single strip of gold on the bottom of his sleeve.

"Deck twenty-one. Deck twenty-one. I said, Deck twenty-one." The man in the red shirt said. He's getting more frustrated every time he spoke.

"Maybe if you said please." The other man replied

Tendi remembered from Rutherford’s conversation earlier that turbolifts were not entirely voice commanded at this time. She continued to walk towards the lift.

"Maybe it's jammed. Help me get this wall panel off." The redshirt was starting to open a panel when the disguised Orion walked in. She put one hand on the wall handle and crossed her fingers, on the other hand, hoping that this would work.

"Deck fifteen." She spoke, and the lift started to move. She breathed a secret sigh of relief.

"I won't tell anyone if you don't." The medical man, with a British accent, spoke.

"My lips are sealed."

"Guys, where's Tendi?" Rutherford asks, trying to find one of his best friends.

"Aw Sh*t, we must have lost her" Mariner looked some more. "Tend-"

Boimler clamped his hand against her mouth. "Are you insane? You wanna mess up history?"

"Ok, then how do you want to find her?"

"Constitution-class ships only held about 300 people, so it shouldn't be too hard to find her, especially compared to a Galaxy-class ship," Rutherford suggested.

All three realize that the only way to find their friend was to just walk through the halls and hope they stumble across her. They started down the aisle, maneuvering their way through the mass amounts of people. At one point, Beckett hit somebody with her elbow.

"Oh, sorry." She said

The woman smiled and replied. She was wearing an operations red dress, and her hair was teased on top of her head. Her sleeves bore lieutenant stripes. "It's ok," she said as she walked away. She was making baby noises at something in her hand.

Mariner craned her neck just enough to see that in the lieutenants’ arms was a small Tribble. "It can't be long now."

Tendi saw the first baby Tribble in one of the turbolifts she was taking back down. She was alerted when she heard soft sweet cooing on the other side of the lift, and she couldn't resist. She picked it up, so happy to see an unneutered baby Tribble. At first, she only saw one every once in a while. Maybe one would be stuck to a wall. Another was in an older doctor's hands, and he was scanning it with a tricorder. However, the amount started to multiply, and before she knew it, Tribbles were lining every single hallway. They came and all shapes and sizes. Some were white with gray spots, and some were a beautiful shiny Brown. They stuck to the walls and the ceiling, and cooing filled the hallway, along with the occasional screech when someone stepped on one.

She tried to resist the temptation and only grab one, but every time she turned around, she found herself face-to-face with another ball of fur, and soon she had an entire armful of Tribbles. Curiously, as she wandered about trying to find her three friends, she saw Sisko and that other female officer scanning Tribbles. Both looked frazzled. She realized that they were scanning for a bomb of sorts and remembered that Mariner said it was on the space station, not on the Enterprise.

Speaking of Mariner, she finally found her friends walking towards her in a hallway. The pep in her step grew as she walked towards them.

"They are so cute!" Tendi showed off her arm full of at least ten Tribbles.

"Let's get to a private room, watch how a Tribble gives birth, and then get back to our own time," Boimler continued. "I don't want any time travel shenanigans on my file. It's not very Captain-like."

"Oh please," Mariner replied, "you realize how much stuff was on Kirk's record?"

The four came across an empty meeting room. They all walked in, Rutherford closed the door, and Tendi set one of her many Tribbles on the table. With her pad on hand, she was ready to take notes.

Tribbles reproduce fast, so it was only a matter of time before the one on the table, which Tendi lovingly named Warpy, gave birth. The ball of fur soon went from cooing to screeching as it tensed up half its body. Soon from underneath the adult Tribble, baby Tribbles emerged. Tendi was so excited, but the other three just watched with confused and uncomfortable faces. After she finished taking notes, Boimler suggested they leave.

"I'm going to miss the blonde hair, but I can't wait to have my old body back," Tendi spoke as Mariner pulled out her blue gem.

"Tell me about it; my eyes are the same color as my skin. That can't be healthy," she replied

"Maybe people look like this because of issues with the older technology," Rutherford suggested.

Mariner spoke to the gem the time she wanted to go back to. The portal opened underneath them.

"No one's got any Tribbles, right?" Mariner asked.

All of them nodded, and Mariner was the first to jump through the portal. Rutherford followed, and then Boimler. Tendi turned around one last time to her Tribbles.

"Bye, Warpy," she spoke as she jumped through the portal.

"Much fu*king better" Mariner cracked her back in the Cerritos’ shuttle bay. Tendi glanced over her notes and deactivated her disguise. Beckett came over to her and wrapped an arm around her.

"You had fun?"

"So much, thanks" Tendi smiled.

"How about we change and get some tacos?" Beckett spoke as she walked towards the doors.

"Okie Dokie" Rutherford and the other two ensigns followed.

As they walked to the mess hall, Mariner spoke to Boimler, “Glad you could join us. Ya know, you actually look confident in that old uniform! And kinda charming.”

“Thank you, I feel confident” He did a cheesy smirk.

“Annnnd now it’s gone.” She said, trying to hide the slightest blush.

They continued to their bunks to change. Unknown to Boimler, however, was a small ball of fur stuck to his vintage uniform boots.

Three days later

Ransom woke up for his morning shift at the sound of his alarm. When he reached over to turn it off, he felt a ball of fur right on his alarm clock. Upon opening his eyes, he saw that Tribbles filled his entire room, all cooing.

"Who brought an unneutered Tribble on board!?"

[sakuratragedy]

Emperors Consort | Chapter 2

Fandom: Genshin Impact Pairing: Zhongli / Childe, #Zhongchi Tags: R18, A/B/O Dynamics, Royalty AU Summary: aka "Emperor's consort doesn't know the difference between being a concubine and being a consort" Tsaritsa wants her child to have a good life after serving her on the battlefield for so long, so she makes a deal with an old friend. In exchange for her military might, he will marry her son. Childe who has no formal omega training has to do his best to cover up the fact he has no idea what he's doing. Do your best to be a good omega Childe!

He remembers the familiar ache in his back and knot in his shoulders from the last time he travelled from the mother country to Liyue. The arrival at the harbour was busy per usual. The sounds of Liutian and foreigners alike moving around the harbour, the voices that speak of trades and exchange greetings merge together creating a mess of noise. His fellow Fatui agents unloading the luggage they brought (limited to a single case per person), dressed in their fatui garb ready to split ways after unloading and receiving orders from the youngest Harbinger.

Tartaglia dressed in his civilian clothing and did a quick scan of the harbour. It didn’t look like much had changed much over the years he had been away. He had been wearing his Harbinger uniform up until he could see the outline of the harbour from the ship, before remembering he was not there for a quick mission.

He was there to potentially get mated (and possibly married).

“I’m sure you know what to do.” Childe says without having to turn to look at his agents, but he knows they were listening. “Independent action until necessary, don’t cause any trouble that I can’t get you out of.” He glanced over his shoulder to watch his agents nod at him. Usually they would disappear by now, going their own separate directions but they stood there behind him. Childe raised his brow when he still felt their presence behind him and fully turned to them.

“Speak.”

“Sir, are you truly going to become the emperor’s omega?” He recalls her name, Ekaterina, who was there during his last stay in Liyue years ago.

“It’s part of Tsaritsa's deal with the emperor. Who am I to disobey her?”

“What about your position as a Harbinger, sir?” a skirmisher asks, timidly rubbing the back of his head for speaking so boldly to his superior. Childe gave a half-glare at the taller male before he rolled his eyes.

“I’m still a Harbinger. This ‘mating with the emperor’ shit isn’t solid.” He does air quotations with his fingers. “What is important right now is the mission. If you find out what the emperor's big dilemma is before I do, please relay it back to me.” His agents clung to every word he uttered as if he spoke the gospel, memorising it down to each syllable to avoid missing anything and honestly, he loved it.

Surely this ‘mating and marriage’ could turn optional if he finishes the mission earlier than intended. Childe starts running through various possibilities that could happen to him when he finally starts living at the palace to prepare himself from being caught off guard. If he revealed himself to be a Harbinger right away, the emperor would put him to work immediately. They would solve the problem faster than usual. -

‘Because I’m talented and strong, it would be done in no time.’ Childe thinks to himself.

And in the end the emperor would have to mate and marry him to uphold the Tsaritsa’s end of the bargain. But… if he pretended he was just a useless omega prince, would the emperor be more willing to let him go?

He smirks at the idea before turning to his agents.

“Do not tell anyone that I’m a Harbinger.” He watches them nod once at his command.

“Dismissed.” He smiles and they disappear in the blink of an eye.

‘This could be fun.’ he thinks, his smile stretching holding more mischief from his clever plan. ‘I’ll be back home in no time.’

“You’re the Tsaritsa’s son.” a voice snapped him out of his devious thoughts. He turned to his left, seeing no one. A little cough in the direction he was looking at made him glance down meeting eyes with a small girl, much shorter than himself that she had to tilt her head upwards to meet his eyes. Her mouth was curled into a distasteful pout, likely irritated at the obvious height difference.

Childe couldn’t hold back the smile that grew on his face. She was so tiny. The girl might have mistaken Childe’s smile as a mocking one and grew more irritated, her brows furrowing together.

‘She’s a fighter.’ he thinks as his eyes travel further down, intrigued by the sword attached at her hip decorated with extravagant carvings. The guard was shaped like a lion's head, beautiful listening gold in the afternoon light and the little eyes seemed to glow fiercely with amber gems. Analysing her figure, he realizes could probably beat her if they fought. He should be nice to her, since fighting weaker people did not bring any pleasure.

“I’m speaking to you.” She doesn’t mask the irritation in her voice when she glares at him. He continues to watch her with curious eyes, eyebrow raised as she moves her light purple hair behind her shoulder in one elegant toss of her hand before crossing her arms at her chest. Without having to look for too long, he knows this confident girl that came to pick him up at the harbour must be associated with the Liyue Qixing from the elegant air that she carries.

“Yes, I heard you.” Childe responds. The corner of his lip turns upward again when she rolls her eyes openly at him before turning her face away. Never in his life had he seen someone so openly irritated at him. This girl did not care the slightest that she was in the presence of one of Snezhnaya’s ruthless fighters, let alone foreign royalty.

“We’re leaving for the palace now. Follow me.” she says quickly before turning on her heels and walking away. She seemed to be in a rush to leave Childe behind, but her plan did not go about the way she planned as Childe has longer legs. He took a few big strides and caught up to her walking pace, which seemed to irritate her further. Either way, it was not hard to keep up with her.

He glanced down at his walking partner, seeing her bite her lip and her gloved hands are little balls at her sides as she walked made him chuckle.

“I hope you know I already don’t like you.” She says as she turns on her heel to open the door to the carriage. While different from Snezhnaya carriages that were fully covered and the cushioning surrounded by velvet to keep the warm, he found it cute how Liyue carriages were open, fancy carvings on the wood let air through the carriage. He traced the red wood, admiring it for a bit too long before the girl behind him made noise.

“Just get in already!” He laughed again when he climbed into the carriage, tears brimming his eyes from the way his stomach hurt.

“You’ve amused me like no other. What is your name, young lady?” Childe smiled bright and wide, feeling actual excitement of having someone openly hate him. He reached out to shake her hand, while his other hand wiped away the stray tear at the corner of his eye.

The girl huffed, her cheeks turning pink from either the humid air or his constant teasing. Her gloved hand grabbed his own.  

“Keqing.”

-

“Good morning Taru…” He sat up from his canopy bed decorated with gorgeous red and gold silks stretching his arms over his head.

His room was heavily decorated in exquisite furnishings such as porcelain vases detailed in gold and little statues of long dragons with clouds surrounding them made of marble would decorate the tables. Soft and expensive furs and fabrics draped on his bed. A single round window made of wood with intricate circle and square motive carvings framed all four sides of the window placed just a little further from the door that led out onto his huge balcony beside his bedroom.

“Good morning Qiqi!” Childe smiled at his attendant. He holds his hand out, waiting for Qiqi to give him the item that she was holding. He felt his heart melt when the little girl approached him at his bed and shyly placed a small purple flower in his palm. Childe pauses to look at the delicate plant in his hands.

“What is this?” He asks curiously. The small flower looked a little rough around its edges, but he can tell from the way Qiqi protectively held it before passing it to him that she tried her very best to be gentle.

“Violetgrass…” She fiddles with the hem of her dress, swaying her body from left to right waiting for him to accept the present she had given him.

“I love it. Thank you Qiqi.” He gently sets the violetgrass by his side before he carefully moves out of bed. He kneels in front of her to hug the smaller girl, which she happily hugs back. He feels her little hands grab the back of his silk pajamas, not being able to fully circle around him just yet.

“Let’s start the day, shall we?” Childe pulls away gently from the hug. Qiqi nods in agreement before she leaves him to find the ladies that will prepare his clothing and accessories for the day. As several sets of hands roam his body, brushing his hair and tying robes onto his clothing, another lady reads aloud the schedule that has been fixed for him by Keqing. He shuts his eyes, feeling his head tilt in one direction as a maid brushes his untamable hair. He can feel her frustration as she brushes before deciding it would be best to place little decorative pins in the shape of beautiful flowers into his hair to compensate for the mess underneath. She clips small flowers into the curls of his hair, twisting as they were little branches for the acrylic flowers to sit upon.

The first three days of Childe’s life in the Liyue Palace were very similar, a blur . Qiqi’s presence was the only consistent thing that happened during his time at the palace. Every morning when Qiqi wakes him up, she would bring something small and interesting she thinks that he would like.

The Qixing (Keqing, specifically) had presented him with Qiqi as his personal attendant while he stayed in the palace. He had discovered through the smaller girl that she works part time for Baizhu, picking herbs for hours on end occasionally never coming back to the palace for three days. But since she now waits on the foreign prince, her herb picking hours have been reduced from twilight till the sun broke through the clouds the next morning.

“Don’t you need sleep?” He asks the first day he met her. She was such a small and young girl, how could anyone make her work her bones off from dusk till dawn. Keqing stands further back from them, letting them introduce themselves before she has to haul him elsewhere.

“Qiqi is okay. Adepti are okay.” Childe didn’t know what that meant and he believed her, but it didn’t stop him from feeling a little guilty. Small kids should be getting proper rest and not scaling the side of dangerous cliffs for herbs that the doctor was capable of getting for himself.

He didn’t think that he had to make a complete 180 change from the last time he was in Liyue. Ever since Childe stepped foot on that harbour three days ago, he hadn’t touched his belongings he brought with him from Snezhnaya. He hadn’t worn any of the clothes he brought, as the attendants would dress him in Liyue’s traditional clothes specifically made for Liutian omegas.

-

“Why do I have to wear a dress?” Childe asks as he looks himself in the mirror, the silks and cotton flowy against his skin. The light blue robes detailed in a darker shade of navy blue and gold stitching complimented his eye colour. Several attendants were surrounding him, taking his measurements not missing out a single inch of his body as Keqing stood before him. She monitored the way the ladies moved gracefully about him as if they were in a dance, fleeting touches not more than 2 seconds, a stretch of tape here and there, a little tug of his clothes once in a while before the touches leave him. He watches the redhead in the mirror through the floor to ceiling mirror, the one that looked like him but he could not recognise from the gorgeous silks and cottons that decorated his imposter.

“All omegas, especially those from noble lines wear hanfus.” Keqing explains as she pulls the skirt down. Golden accessories such as clips and small delicate chains started to decorate his hair, neck and ears, Keqing was presented with different silks by the same attendants. He doesn’t say anything when she holds it up against his face, before giving the fabric back and nodding in approval.

“Plus, it’s pretty. Alphas love pretty omegas.” A beautiful woman walks in wearing her own white and golden hanfu, carrying herself like she was a goddess walking amongst men. The way her skirt flowed as she walked towards the two, the slim and elegant smile on her lips as she walked over to them. She gave a little twirl, her gorgeous skirt flaring out like a dream of silk and cotton as she arrived before the foreign prince and blushing noble.

“Don’t you agree?” She asks, leaning a little towards Keqing.  Keqing took a step back, face colouring as she looked away in embarrassment. Childe watched as the omega teased the purple haired alpha by inching closer as the other backed away. Gorgeous amber eyes gleaming with mirth, her smile hidden behind her paper fan as she basically teased the alpha. She carries a similar paper fan in her hand, wearing a similarly fashioned hanfu and yet, they couldn’t be any more different.

“Yes. You are very pretty.” her voice barely an audible gasp could be heard, but it was a sufficient response for the fair lady.

From the way her presence alone can suffocate a room, begging its attention to be turned to her and the way comfortably glides around the palace. It was safe to assume that this was the emperor's regina.

“I am Ningguang, the Tianquan of the Liyue Qixing. It’s nice to meet you.” She gives a little bow of respect that Childe awkwardly returns back. Those titles that came after her name did not hold any meaning to Childe as he didn’t understand what that meant, it was possible he would forget after this meeting.

“You look pretty as well. I think this colour suits you wonderfully.” Ningguang says as she pulls lightly on the baby blue fabric the attendants had put around his arms not for any particular purpose other than decoration, but Childe being who he is naturally assumed he could turn it into a weapon and strangle someone with it if he was given the chance.

‘No, that’s a bad Ajax.’ He thought to himself. ‘No thinking about strangling.’ The voice in his head speaks in a firm tone as if he were speaking to a naughty child. His face sulks a little. When the attendants pulled away after what felt like hours, he was greeted with a sight he had never seen before. He was dressed in beautiful silks and cottons that could give him the illusion of being beautiful.

The style of hanfu was very similar to the long flowing one Ningguang wore, except the colours of his hanfu were softer in comparison to the dramatic whites, bright reds and golds the other omega wore. He didn’t catch himself in time, accidentally openly gawking at how well the attendants had dressed him. When he caught himself and shut his mouth, his eyes met with the Tianquan. She smiled at him, looking genuinely excited that he looked decent in those clothes. He can’t help but feel out of place. The attendants presented a variety of earrings carefully placed on a tray to Ningguang. She hums and carefully picks up one that she thinks would suit Childe best. A single red gem hanging from slim golden chains, smaller red flowers littering the chain in delicate placements.

“Why do you not wear your pheromones?” She asks as she assists Childe by putting on the earring. “You seem to have many scent blockers upon your neck.” She reaches for them, but with Childe’s fast reflexes, he’s immediately off the chair and covering the back of his neck with his hand. He leans against the vanity, trying not to look as uncomfortable as he feels and tries to steel his rapidly beating heart.

Ningguang blinked.

She didn’t even see him move.

“The Tsaritsa said not to take them off.” He says quickly followed by a forced laugh and smile, hoping that she would not press any further concerning the three scent blockers covering every inch of the scent glands on his neck, preventing any pheromones from accidentally leaking.

She was silent, hands still in the air from where she was holding Childe’s other earring.

“Alright.” Ningguang put the other earring down on the tray that the attendant held. “I suppose she would only want you to take them off during your heat.”

Childe nervously laughs and agrees with her.

-

Presented with portions more than Childe had ever seen, he had been eating a lot of food since he arrived at the palace compared to his home life in Snezhnaya. Childe had never been one to eat for pleasure, as he was the type of prince who found pleasure in pain and fighting, challenges and battle scars.

If Childe was to eat any more food, he felt as if his stomach would simply burst open and a flow of various ingredients would stream from it. But being the kind prince he is, he smiles and opens his mouth, consuming the food that was given to him.

It was an unusual sight for sure. He sat amongst the chefs at their designated dining table in the kitchen of the palace. Their sturdy wooden table plated at least three different kinds of chicken meals featuring different parts, cooked several different ways. He was seated on their wooden bench that could fit five people per side and ate from delicate porcelain wares and golden spoons and forks.

‘Why so spicy?’ Childe holds in the scream he wants to let out, his cheeks glowing a peachy red hue as he chews slowly, the burning sensation in his mouth moving further down his throat as he swallows. He can’t be anything less than regal as a foreign prince, carrying his image by sitting upright with his elbows off the table, but in that moment he feels helpless to the spice. His mouth opened slightly, pink lips huffing out hot air attempting to ventilate the scorching sensation.

“ He’s so thin. Xiangling is there anything else to eat?” A woman much older than him sat to his right, watching him as he steadily ate the steamed chicken dish in front of him cooked with chilies, thinly sliced gingers, and soft wolfberries. A man to his left took away his bowl of rice when he brought the spoon of chicken and rice to his mouth, filling the bowl with more soft fluffy rice before setting it back down before him.

“ I can make chicken feet with dark sauce! ” A young girl says as she rushes around the large kitchen holding a cleaver in her hand. The other chefs laugh fondly when ingredients start flying about the kitchen, some entering pots and nearly missing the pans. The cheery girl hums an upbeat tune while the cleaver cuts fast against the wooden board.

“ His face is red! ” One chef says to another.

“ Youths are so cute. ” The woman decides to fondly pinch his cheek, making him turn to her, rosy blush dusting his face. Childe couldn’t concentrate on the actions of the chefs in the kitchen, too busy blinking away the tears that stinged his eyes from the intensity of the chili.

“ Should eat more though. Get fatter and bear healthy kids.” The same woman wraps her hand around Childe’s slim wrist, seeing how she could easily wrap her thumb and index finger around it.

He exhaled a breath through his slightly parted mouth, the heat never leaving him. While his eyes were clenched closed, the young girl dropped a large bowl of soup beside the spicy chicken he had yet to clean off his plate.

“Eat up!” She says in a language he could understand since he had arrived in this kitchen an hour ago and beams a bright smile at him. He weakly smiles back with as much politeness he could muster in that moment, knowing he couldn’t get out of the situation he was currently in.

-

The end of Childe’s three busy days had been the most exhilarating despite the slow start. From the moment he woke up, the ladies had brushed his hair and dressed him per usual but this time under the watchful eye of the tiny purple haired Qixing. When he was dressed, she extended her hand towards him accompanied by her sharp glare. He didn’t think much of the gesture, placing his hand on top of hers before the alpha escorted the two of them through the maze of open aired hallways leading to the emperor’s palace in silence.

“Stand here and don’t move. Don’t go anywhere.” Keqing said when they had reached the altar, removing her hand from under his. He took a look at her and nodded in understanding. She nodded back, turning away to take a seat just behind him. From the sound of a drag of the chair against the floor, he can tell she pulled a seat closer to her own in that moment he wasn’t looking.

He had stood before the entire Liyue Qixing, seven heads of noble lines seated behind him as he stood what looked like an altar, listening to a man speaking in pure liyuan before him. From the dramatic gestures to his loud booming voice that echoed the hall, he could guess the man was a preacher of some sort. Occasionally he would jolt awake from the way the preacher’s voice would boom.

“ In the consort’s next heat, may the archons bless that an adepti child be born. ” Childe’s polite smile is beginning to fade into a more awkward and strained one. He feels like he had been standing there for ages from the way his back began to hurt from how straight he stood, combined with the heavy weight of the seven pairs of eyes staring holes into his back.

“ The emperor. ” The loud man gestured to the large double door he had entered through, but all Childe could do was stare in confusion. The man spoke such pure liyuan it was difficult for him (someone who only ever heard informal liyuan from his one year stay) it was as if he was trying to process the thick accent along with the pure pronunciations. He tried to interpret the preacher's words with the minimum amount of liyuan he learned during his one year post at Liyue Harbour when he was 21.

‘It’s too fluent.’ Childe furrows his brows in frustration. ‘I don’t understand.’ While he was trying to deconstruct the words the preacher was saying so he could get a hold of what he was on about, he failed to notice two pairs of footsteps that entered the room. One pair had stopped walking just behind him while the other walked up beside him.

“ Two worlds will collide in a united front, to unite two countries, two perspectives, two worlds. ” The preacher made a particularly big gesture before intertwining his fingers together and locking them.

‘Honestly, I should have thought about getting a tutor 3 years ago.’ He tried his best not to show such a confused expression, but failed when he heard a chuckle beside him.

“He said ‘two worlds colliding in a united front’.”

“Ah, thank you.” Childe turned his head to thank the figure beside him before looking away in fear of getting scolded by Keqing, and looking back because fuck getting scolded by Keqing.

‘This man is so handsome !’ Childe practically screamed in his mind, so loud that he was afraid the other man could hear him. He was scared the whole hallway could possibly hear him from how loud his thought was. He didn’t care that he was openly staring with eyes as large as dinner plates at this point.

The prince was suddenly very aware of the taller man standing beside him on the altar.

‘He’s taller than me. No one is ever taller than me.’ Childe snuck another sideways glance, trying to hold back the embarrassment from showing on his face. He clearly was embarrassed, he himself knew it and is accepting of the fact. He tried to steady his breathing when he felt his heart hammer at his chest. He did not prepare himself for the possibility of the emperor being (hot) his type.

‘His jawline is so sharp. He’s so tall. Is it because he’s an alpha? He’s got such pretty eyes.’ Childe’s mind was busy collecting as much information as he could get from simply looking at the emperor, he didn’t realise something slipped from his mouth.

“Pardon?” He turns his head to fully look at Childe, watching as the prince’s fair cheeks bloom a bright red when he realizes some thoughts may have slipped out as real words.

“My apologies, it’s nothing.”

Throughout the ceremony, Childe kept sneaking glances at him. Well, he couldn’t help himself no matter how disciplined he was. This man was so much eye candy he had to openly stare. When the other man noticed him staring and when he caught his eyes, Childe whipped his head to look away.

“Are you nervous?” he hears a soft voice beside him. He looks up to see him glancing with a gentle expression. Childe felt himself blush. The emperor is so handsome, you would never believe he was 40 years old.

“Yes, a little. I can’t really understand what he’s saying.” Childe admits truthfully before he felt him blush rise to his ears. Why did he admit that? Was his face really able to let down his guard?

The emperor chuckles a little before he smiles and looks forward at the officiater. “We’ll get you a tutor. It is an easy language to grasp once you figured out the basics.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s not a problem.” He smiled.

‘Fangs!’ Childe’s mind shouted in glee when he saw the sharp teeth but his face kept a calm appearance. He realises he’s been too jumpy during the ceremony and not concentrating at all. He takes a deep breath to calm himself down. ‘Of course the man has fangs, he’s an alpha.’ He nods, thinking logically and completely missing the side glance followed by a fleeting smirk the other man gave him.

The preacher hands Childe and the emperor a small cup each filled with fragrant rice wine.

‘Do I drink this?’ He looks at the clear liquid in the goblet before looking up at Zhongli, meeting his eyes for the first time in the hour they had been standing beside each other. Zhongli’s eyes never tear away from him as he slowly puts his own cup to his lips, waiting for him to do the same.

Luckily Childe catches on and drinks the wine, Zhongli doing the same.

-

“ Congratulations on getting married. ” Ningguang says in pure liyuan dialect, bowing at Childe and the emperor. Her voice carried a smoother tone when she spoke in liyuan compared to when she spoke to Childe a few days ago. He snuck another glance at Zhongli without fully turning his head, trying not to seem too interested in the man.

‘Well, if he hears my thoughts I’d be doomed.’ Childe fully regained his composure after being let go by the preacher, some of the Qixing nobles leaving the hall as soon as it was done with the exception of Ningguang and Keqing, who stood further back towards the door waiting for them to finish their conversation with the emperor. He stood beside the emperor, waiting for him to finish his exchange with his regina before introducing himself, but while that was happening he was running through his mind figuring out how to make a good first impression.

“ Be quiet. ” He says, but the smile that graced his face when he faced her was gentle, yet it held some mirth. The smiles they exchanged held deeper meaning, as if it holds years of bonding that could not be overwritten by the involvement of a second love. Childe feels envious somehow.

Zhongli fully turns to him, with that handsome smile still on his face and Childe finds himself being entranced. He could finally get a good look at the well dressed man who wore layers upon layers from his dress shirt to his vest and his outer coat, this man was covered from head to toe leaving not an inch of skin exposed for imagination to run wild.

“Childe, this is Zhongli.” Ningguang introduces them before Zhongli could open his mouth to speak. “Call him xiansheng.” Zhongli turned to her with disbelief on his face while she giggled mischievously behind her gloved hand.

“You don’t have to call me - “

“Xiansheng?” He feels shy when he attempts to copy Ningguang’s pronunciation. He was rewarded with a thumbs up from the fair lady, but he noticed Zhongli take a step back from him.

“That is good pronunciation, Childe.” Zhongli says.

“My real name is Ajax.” He blurts out, feeling his cheeks get hot from how well this man could play him without having to do anything. He hasn’t actually said his original name for years, not since he had been adopted by the Tsaritsa. He felt as if he could have gone a lifetime without hearing that name again.

“Ajax.” And yet, he wants to hear his name on this man's lips more, drink it up like it was wine and honey. The smile that comes after the syllables of his name were addictive. He feels high, overwhelmed even, as if he had not been breathing oxygen up until he hears his name uttered from this man's lips.

If he could look at that smile for the rest of his life.

“There’s plenty of time for you both to get to know each other,” Ningguang says, but the holes that Keqing had been staring into her head had increased in intensity since earlier. “But not right now.” She smiles, a little nervous about the purple haired noble that was clicking the heel of her shoe against the carpeted floor.

Unfortunately, Ningguang went unheard by the two males. Zhongli looks at Childe like he is the only person in the hall, and Childe looks at him like he was the only person in the universe as they spoke, low and quiet unwanting others to hear their meek conversation.

“Are you really 40 years old?”

“No, that might be an exaggeration.”

“I knew my siblings were joking - “ “I’m 57.”

Childe blinked, his hand moving away from his mouth, to look at the emperor with disbelief. He shook his head, feeling whiplash from the information. The corners of the emperor's lips quirk upwards, amused as he watches the ginger process the information.

“You’re older than the Tsaritsa.”

“Indeed. I’ve known her for a very long time, we are good friends.”

“Ahem.” A loud noise was made, finally attracting the attention of the prince and the emperor. They turned to look at the smaller girl, her fist at her mouth before she crossed her arms. Ningguang stood a little behind her, averting her gaze. She did try to warn them, they couldn’t blame her for their scolding.

“Childe has to meet his tutor and Lady Ningguang and I have a meeting to tend to.” Keqing says bluntly. It seems her clear dislike was not hidden from anyone, not even with the exception of the emperor.

“Oh? I thought we were going on a date?” Ningguang piped up, making the purple haired girl go red in the face, but keeping her usual stoic demeanor. Keqing had her hands balled up in fists when the lady teased her, but couldn’t deny that it had embarrassed her in a good way. Zhongli raised a curious brow at his Qixing before nodding.

“I understand. You may go.” He says to Keqing and Ningguang. They both bow at their direction, before taking off. Childe was in the midst of turning away to follow them but was stopped by a gentle touch of a hand on his wrist. The touch was so gentle, it made his heart flutter. He looked at the gloved hand that caught him, before looking up at the emperor’s face.

“Xiansheng?” He says curiously. Zhongli hesitates, so the both of them were simply studying each other's faces. He looked like he had a lot to say to him, his mouth opening slightly before closing, and opening again and biting his lower lip.

“Till we meet again.” He finally says. Zhongli looked the way that Childe felt, shy. Childe couldn’t suppress the twinkle in his eyes and the smile that crept upon his face.

“Till next time, xiansheng.”

-

“In Liyue customs, an empress is bred from young, training from a youth until a young adult to be able to take the responsibilities that come with being the empress. Among these responsibilities are overseeing the imperial charity, funding for - '' The words blur and jumble into a ball of sounds as Childe stares at the pen and blank paper in front of him.

Why did he have to learn about the empress anyway? Couldn’t he skip to the parts that he didn’t need to learn since he was a meer concubine to the emperor? He twirls the fountain pen between his fingers, careful to not fling ink out and spray it all over the parchment.

“Childe, are you listening?” He looks up at his tutor. The blue haired boy much much younger than him is sitting at the end of his desk with a thick book placed on his lap.

“Yes, Xingqiu, I’m listening.”

“Good. How many years must an empress candidate undergo training before she can become the official regina?” He places his elbow on his knee, leaning his head on his hands as he watches the foreign prince in amusement. The prince clearly hadn’t been listening to him, instead choosing to spend his time concentrating on not spilling the ink from his pen as he twirled it between his fingers like a baton.

“Sixteen years.” Childe answers effortlessly, avoiding eye contact with his smug tutor. Xingqiu’s head lifted from his hand, a little shocked that the prince actually was paying attention to him.

“Good. We can move on to the inner workings of the emperors palace and its hierarchy.” He clasps the book shut with both hands, placing it onto the ever growing pile behind him before picking up another heavy volume with gold engravings on the spine. The red head looked at the book before his gaze trailed up to his teachers face. There is no way this boy was older than sixteen, and yet he’s sitting on the corner of his desk acting like his boss. According to Keqing who assigned Xingqiu as his tutor, the boy comes from a long line of nobles that had been famed to teach Liyue etiquette to both the descendants of emperors and empresses.

“A summary of the hierarchy would be Emperor Zhongli of course, followed by his son Xiao - “

“His son?” Childe asks, curiosity getting the best of him. ‘I didn’t know Zhongli was married.’ He put a finger to his chin and leaned back into his chair, hiding his troubled expression behind his hand.

“Yes, the sole prince of Liyue and only son of the emperor, Xiao. He is twenty this year, but isn’t taking the throne.” the blue haired boy shrugs as if the information was not anything special before flipping to another page of the thick book. Childe still lost in thought was thinking about the possibilities of Zhongli’s wife and himself having a child together, but still allowing the emperor to take a concubine for the sake of his country.

“He’s the current head of the Liutian army.” His tutor realises that he was no longer paying attention and raises a brow. He figures the prince must have some troubling thoughts to forgo listening to him altogether.

“He’s adopted.” Xingqiu says. He wants to burst out laughing when the information clearly did not reach Childe’s ears, but chooses to muffle his giggle behind his hand. He watches the prince's furrowed brows and smiles gently. Might as well continue reading from the book if the prince was not going to pay attention to his detailed explanations. “After the prince would be the eight heads of the Liyue Qixing starting with the Tianquan, who oversees the law and governance.” Xingqiu continues, the sun setting through the window behind him colouring the room in an orange hue.

- ‘The emperor has a son, which means he has a wife’ was the one thing Childe really took away from his first tutoring lesson with the young noble. He lies down on his bed staring at the ceiling above him, feeling the air gently blow through his open window surrounding him in comforting cold winds. It felt nowhere near as cold as Snezhnaya, but it would have to do for the night. The prince tended to do his thinking in the dead of night while the wind rustled through his fluffy hair.

‘The previous Tsar before mother had over eight omegas as concubines, but mother has never taken a husband.’ He thought, rolling onto his side and propping his head up onto his arm. Through his window, he could see the gorgeous garden filled with trees and white stone walls that sat between the emperor's palace and the palace he currently resides in. Deciding to get off his bed, he walked over to the window letting his long robes drag across the floor, tucking the long fabric under his legs while he situated himself on the bench beside the window.

‘Maybe mom is right? Would I actually have to work hard to impress the emperor?’ He furrows his brow in thought which he found himself doing very often since he had arrived at the palace. Childe thought himself to be the adaptable type, able to mold himself into any situation and conquer the harshest of conditions.

And yet, being treated like a soft and gentle omega was the strangest thing he had ever experienced in his lifetime.

‘Are soft and gentle someone Zhongli likes?’ Childe gets off his bench to walk over to the floor to ceiling mirror in the corner of his room. He looks at himself in the mirror with the robes wrapped tightly around his waist, and yet it was still loose enough to slip off slightly. He wasn’t very much the image of an ‘omega’, having more sharp angles than soft curves, and he is tall nearly the same height as the emperor. Overall in comparison to other omegas he had seen around the palace they had been the exact opposite of him.

Small, soft types with curves and usually very pretty with large doe eyes.

‘I’m more handsome than pretty.’ Childe thinks as he grabs his hip bones with both hands. ‘Sharp.’ He continues to pat his body, feeling the toned muscle and bone on him from years of working for the Tsaritsa. His hands trail to his toned stomach and rubs it in circles with the palm of his hand. He had always thought the best feature of his Harbinger uniform was that it had normally exposed his stomach, which was a part of him that he was proud of. It was sexy to say the least and it aided him agility wise on the battlefield, but now he wasn’t sure. Were omegas supposed to expose themselves like that?

‘I could make the effort. Zhongli is kinda handsome, I guess.’ He rolls his eyes, as if he had now been openly gawking the first time he met the emperor. ‘And helping the Tsaritsa is my priority.’

“Damn, I’ve never been this body conscious in my life.” He walks away from the mirror, but turns to look back at himself, eyes directly dropping to the shape of his ass in the mirror. He laughs a little pathetically before running a hand through his hair.

“This guy doesn’t know me, so it wouldn’t be too hard to hide the fact I was practically a tyrant back home!” With full confidence, he turned to face the mirror and crossed his arms, beaming at his prettier doppelganger in the mirror. He met his eyes, smile falling a little. Who was he kidding, he felt so out of place.

“Right?”

[yououui]

First of all, congrats for your 900 followers, you deserve them ❤🎉 related to the KF prompts, what about Kurogane being a warrior elf and Fay being a mage. They both have had very long lives and have been friends for a very long time too, but have little to no experience in romantic love for any reason you wish lol. (They have experienced family love, love for their friends and other types of love though) and Kurogane accidentally says something that makes Fay's heart skip a beat and blush. Kurogane doesn't notice what he says until he sees Fay 😂 what happens next is up to you 😊

Quiet footsteps, expertly avoiding any twigs or dry leaves. Arrow nocked, bow raised, he gives one quiet breath to steady himself as he aims for the deer and— 

“Hyuu~ what good form!”

The deer’s ears perk up and it promptly dashes away. Kurogane lowers his bow and looks above him into the foliage of the forest with a scowl and a pounding in his temple. “Oi,” He snaps as he returns the arrow to its quiver and the bow to its place on his back. “Get down here so I can beat you up properly.”

Without even a rustle in the leaves, pale silks and wispy hair appear above Kurogane. Hanging upside down, his knees hooked over a branch, Fai grins happily at Kurogane without a single care for the threat just thrown at him. The hair that usually frames his face is hanging down, exposing his pale forehead, the rest of it pulled up to the top of his head and secured with a ribbon to match his expensive robes. Taking the bait hanging in front of him like a rope, Kurogane grasps the wavy golden locks and gives a tug.

Fai whines and waves his hands around his head to swat Kurogane away. “Hey, that hurts!” The mage pouts.

Kurogane only scoffs. “Lucky I don’t do more to you. You cost me my hunt, you annoying little fae.” He reaches to flick at pale, pointed ears, but Fai pulls away before he can.

Fai weightlessly falls from the trees and lands silently on his feet, as graceful as a cat, and shrugs casually. “You’ll find another deer to slay. Come, I have something much more exciting to show you!” He has an eager look on his face, his bright blue eyes sparkling under the beams of sunlight spilling through the leaves.

Kurogane sighs but follows regardless. He’s followed after Fai and given in to his antics since they were children, though why, he never quite knew. Fai was his oldest and, really, only friend. He’d go anywhere with him, even if he complained the entire time.

“Don’t you have some lessons to be in?” Kurogane asks as they walk through the quiet forest.

“Don’t you?” Fai counters. He waves a hand nonchalantly. “I’m finished for the day! I practiced some spells, worked on some potions, and slipped away as soon as I was dismissed. I’m all yours for the day!”

“Mm.” Kurogane hums. “Until someone comes looking for you. Remember what happened last time their favorite pupil disappeared for too long?”

“Then I’ll just have to make sure I pick a better hiding place,” Fai winks with a charming smile.

Fai is quite possibly the most powerful elven mage in their entire kingdom and has been doted on since he was a small child and his powers first began presenting themselves. With so few mages remaining of their kind, any mage born is seen treated as royalty, but Fai is extremely special. 

By comparison to him, Kurogane is terribly average. A warrior elf, one in a thousand—  though he is the strongest of them all, at least he has that to brag about. But with just one look, one could see how different the two of them were; Fai, wearing his gifted silks and pretty pendents, and Kurogane in a beige tunic with a bow on his back and a sword at his hip. 

And yet, the two became quick friends as children. They were allowed to play together back then, when they were too young to begin their training. But by the time their lessons started, they were expected to understand that they were not the same, that two elves of drastically different lineage could never be seen at the same level. And so, they were no longer given permission to spend their time together. And Fai especially was forbidden from frolicking around freely and instead was often treated like fragile glass.

But Fai, being Fai, found a way. He’d sneak away and drag Kurogane along with him so the two could play, or hunt, or train, or just lounge around. No matter how many punishments it led to when they were caught, he never stopped, and neither did Kurogane.

Kurogane wonders, as he sees dirt cling to the bottom of Fai’s flowing robes, how much trouble he’ll get in today when he’s inevitably caught.

“Where the hell are you taking me?” Kurogane asks eventually.

“Patience is a virtue, Kuro-tan,” Is Fai’s response. “We’re almost there, and then you will see that it’s worth the wait.”

Kurogane grumbles a quiet complaint. After a little while more, they eventually break through the line of trees, which opens to a wide clearing surrounded by the forest on each side. Without the leaves to act as shade, the sun shines brightly over a field full of pale purple flowers, petals drifting lazily in the breeze and honeybees buzzing around.

Fai lifts his arms to gesture grandly to the field. “Here it is! Isn’t it amazing?”

“It’s... fine, I suppose,” Kurogane shrugs. He’s never been much of a flower person.

Fai, however, looks at Kurogane like he’s just said something horribly offensive. “Fine? It’s fine? What have you seen that could possibly be any more beautiful than this?”

“Honestly?” Kurogane glances at the mage. “You.”

He says it easily because, well, it’s true. It’s not like it’s only Kurogane that thinks so—everyone is enamored by Fai’s looks. Kurogane is certain the mage must have some ancient fae blood flowing in this veins; he can’t find any other reason for Fai’s almost other-worldly beauty. Blue eyes that shimmer like gems, fair skin that never blemishes, hair like threaded gold that reflects silver under the moonlight. Even Kurogane, who never much cares about things like physical appearances, knows that Fai is quite possibly the most beautiful creature on the planet.

Kurogane doesn’t think anything of the compliment. Not until he peers at Fai again and sees that his cheeks have gone bright red. Even the tips of his pointed ears are pink. Kurogane furrows his brows and leans in closer to the mage to get a better look at him; Fai’s back bows to lean away from him.

“Oi. What’s wrong?” Kurogane asks as he reaches out to touch Fai’s forehead. “You look ill.”

“What?” Fai squeaks and leaps back from Kurogane’s touch like a skittish animal. “I’m fine!”

Kurogane crosses his arms over his chest and frowns at the mage. “Your face is all red.”

Fai places a hand on his cheek and looks away. “Yes, well. I suppose. I’m just surprised that Kuro-pan would say such a thing.”

Kurogane blinks at the blushing elf. Is Fai embarrassed? There’s no way he’s bashful; Kurogane knows that Fai knows how pretty he is. “Thought you’d be used to it by now,” Kurogane tells him. “You get called beautiful ten times a day.”

“This is... different,” Fai tells him.

“...Why?” Kurogane asks.

“I... I don’t know, really,” Fai responds, turning away slightly to look at the flowers. “But for some reason, hearing you say it has me feeling rather...” He stops suddenly, his lips pressing into a tight, straight line as his cheeks redden even further. 

He gulps and glances at Kurogane, then abruptly looks away again. Kurogane scratches the back of his neck awkwardly and looks at the flowers as well. “Sorry. Won’t do it again,” He murmurs.

“No,” Fai responds immediately. “You... You can say it again. If you want to.”

Kurogane regards the mage. “...Okay then,” He says quietly.

Fai swallows and, very stiffly, says, “...Kuro-pan is rather beautiful, too.”

Kurogane feels his own face heat up and he can only hope that it isn’t as apparent on his bronzed skin as it is on Fai’s. “H-Huh? What the hell are you saying, you idiot?!” He stammers.

Fai looks at him with a soft smile, not one of teasing, but of honesty. Kurogane feels something swoop down in his stomach and his ears get hot. Is this what Fai had just felt, as well? He’s never experienced such a thing in his long life, but his heart is beating wildly and he finds it difficult to look away from those pretty eyes, reflecting the warmth of the setting sun.

Eventually though, Kurogane pulls his eyes away from Fai and scowls at the flowers. “The hell are you staring at me for?” He asks. “Didn’t you want to come to look at the flowers?”

Fai laughs quietly and nods. “Yes, you’re right. I did come all the way out here to admire the beauty.”

Kurogane glances at Fai again and finds that Fai, his face still flushed, is still looking at him.

Kurogane finds it hard to look away, too.