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huramuna · 3 months

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beware the sapphire peak - chapter 1.

aemond targaryen x wife reader x alys rivers a period piece, set in 1902.

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wordcount: 2.6k

you're a young, american lady who is an aspiring author. you are wooed by a mysterious and charming savant from england. swept off your feet, you're whisked away to his family's ancient estate, Dragonstone Hall. but with all stories, secrets are hiding around every corner, and your suitor is no different. a crimson peak inspired mini series. (this will likely be about 3 parts)

@huramuna-fics - follow & turn on notifications for just my fic postings!

content: smut, angst, gaslighting, unhealthy relationships, manipulation, alys in her girlboss gatekeep gaslight era, no use of y/n, afab reader, pre-established alysmond, this isn't going where you think it is (it might be), infidelity-ish, polyamory

to death we dance - salem's heir • the flower duet - sabine devieilhe & marianne crebassa

“You were nearly late, miss,” one of the butlers murmured in your ear. “The music’s just started.”

“There is a quote about being fashionably late, isn’t there?” you mused, taking his gloved hand as he helped you up the steps.

It was a banquet for your father’s business, a celebration of having struck gold (oil) and turning a huge profit. Or, in your words, an excuse for the high and mighty to get plastered and dance the night away. Your fist clenched upon the train of your dress– a lovely evening gown in eggshell white, with hand embroidered lilacs and lavender petals on it, spindling up your bodice like a trellis. Your usually somewhat unruly hair was tamed into a braided and pinned up-do, with an expensive broach poked into the bun of hair in the shape of a falling wisteria branch.

Your father was the first to greet you, peeling away from the gaggle of portly oil barons. He kissed your cheek. “You look lovely tonight, my dear. A vision in purple, I must say.”

You smiled back at him. “Yes, well, you all but wringed my arm to get me to attend– and you shall hold up your end of the bargain… right?” you hummed softly, batting your eyelashes.

He let out a small sigh, nodding. “I will send your manuscript to the publisher– the editor in chief is here tonight, if you’d care to mingle. Amongst… many other eligible bachelors, I might add.”

Your father had spent the better part of the last three years gently trying to pair you up with a suitor for marriage. He was a patient man, as he had droned on about so many times before, but his patience was waning. You were twenty-one years old, and apparently, that was a ghastly sight– to be twenty-one and unmarried with no promising prospects.

Of course, you couldn’t care less. You were more focused on finishing your manuscript in that time– you had a knack for writing and reveled in works of fiction that tended to lean to the darker sides of things. It had finally reached a point you were somewhat happy with, and had convinced your father to chat up his well connected colleagues so you may be able to send the first draft to a publisher.

The price for that, however, was to entertain suitors. At a gala. Dressed and primped like a Thanksgiving turkey. It was all so dreary to you– the ladies stared at you and whispered, citing you as the dreary one.

Breaking away from your father with a tiny smile, you began to mingle– as well as you could, anyhow. You were awkward and a bit sheltered and it showed. However, once you said who your father was, dollar signs would flash in the eyes of the men you were speaking with, and they would push forward in the conversation. You weren’t ugly by any means and could become a good wife to some young entrepreneur– but you didn’t want that.

You were about fed up with it all three hours later, your nails clinking against the glass of champagne you were nursing for the better part of thirty minutes. Your look of slight annoyance managed to stave off any other wanton suitors– until another man approached you. You had exchanged some glances with him during the night, but you didn’t recognize him. He was tall, exceedingly taller than any of the other men there. His blonde hair, so pale it was almost white in hue, was cinched at the nape of his neck in a clean ponytail, falling between his shoulder blades. He was in a custom-fitted three piece black and green suit– you could tell from how perfectly it was hugging him, in all the right places.

A familiar heat came to your cheeks as you watched him saunter over to you with an intent in his pale blue eyes– eye? One of them, you noted as he came closer, was slightly off-color from the other and moved a bit slower. Likely fake, you thought. The light casted over the planes of his face, chiseled as it was, illuminating the slightly raised, puckered skin near the fake eye in a distinctual scar. He looked just like the perfect inspiration for a protagonist in one of your novels– or mayhaps an antagonist. He seemed to skim the line between the two in appearance alone.

Curious.

“My lady,” he greeted as he finally broke the air of silence between you, his arms placed behind him in a very calculated manner. “Are you enjoying yourself this evening?” he asked then, a brow perked. His accent wasn’t American– that you knew for certain– likely something European.

“As much as I can, sir,” you responded coolly, despite being caught slightly off guard by his sudden and overwhelming presence– a dark cloud in a perfectly tailored suit. “I hope that the…” you cleared your throat, trying to sound a little more confident than you likely were. “The… event is to your liking.” you mustered a smile, diverting your gaze to your champagne, hoping there may be the secrets to being a good conversationalist somewhere within the bubbles.

He chuckled, the sound low and husky. It caused a shiver to go up your spine. “The event is well and fine, my lady. Are you… the proprietor of the gala tonight? I wouldn’t expect a beautiful thing such as yourself to plan something like this.”

You glanced up at him beneath fettered lashes. He was complimenting you and insulting the party at the same time. “No– I am not. I’d never choose such… dreary musicians for an event like this. They’re playing for a wake rather than a party– that would be my father’s doing.” you slipped it into the conversation, that this was your father’s party, trying to gauge if this handsome stranger was after what all of the others were.

Surprisingly, his expression, smooth and cool with the barest hint of a smile perking at his naturally upturned lips, didn’t change. “Dreary,” he repeated, “Melancholic, gloomy, monotonous, vapid– all good words to describe the state of affairs.”

“You have quite the expansive vocabulary, Mister…” your voice trailed off, an inadvertent way to ask for his name.

“Targaryen– Aemond Targaryen. And you?” he reached his hand out to shake yours – how incredibly formal– as you returned your own name with a wide-eyed stare.

“Targaryen. As in… the ancient bloodline? Descended from dragons, close to royalty, Dragonstone estate Targaryen?” you asked, mouth slightly agape. From what you knew of them, they were as close to the height of English royalty, real royalty, as there was in the current year, 1902. Their wealth alone, minus all of the titles, made your father’s look like a pissant trust fund.

“The very same. You’re familiar with my family?”

“Ehm– familiar, more so I’ve heard of you all. Your family’s name comes up quite often in my father’s social circles. And I am quite nosy.”

“And what do you think?”

“About… your family? Mr. Targaryen–”

“Call me Aemond.”

“Aemond– I don’t really know much besides the height of your prestige– and your family’s estate, Dragonstone. My father brought me back some photographs of it from his trips over the pond. It’s quite beautiful.”

“Your father brought you pictures of our home?”

“N-not just yours! I collect photographs of old estates, mostly ones from Europe. I like to use them for inspiration for my… stories. I’m a writer– a novice, mostly.”

“A writer? Have you published anything I might know?”

“Oh, God no–” you laughed, covering your face slightly with your hand. “I’ve not yet been published. I actually sent my manuscript to… or will be sending one to a publisher soon. Hopefully.”

“What do you like to write?” he asked then, leaning a bit closer to you as if he was actually enjoying conversing with you. “Romance? Children’s fables?” he teased softly, his one eye gleaming. He was quite handsome, you thought.

“I like horror– mysteries, gothic fiction. I’m quite enamored with the… macabre and weird,” you admit. “I hope that doesn’t frighten you.”

Aemond grinned, his teeth shining, canines pronounced against his thin lips. “Oh, yes, it does frighten me. But, all good horror stories should frighten their readers, yes? I expect you’re a fan of Vampyre? Perhaps Dracula?”

“Both are good. My favorite, however, is Frankenstein. Mary Shelley is a genius. The Castle of Otranto is also wonderful and the pioneer of the genre. I remember trying to read it when I was younger and being scared of the dark hallways at night. Later on in life, those dark hallways enthused me enough to write about them– hence my… fascination with old houses.”

“Old homes certainly do have their fair share of secrets, don’t they?” he paused, straightening his lapel slightly before leaning back in towards you. “And do you believe what they say? That Mary’s husband wrote it and published it under her name?”

Your brows knit together in slight irritation. “Of course not. Why would he need to do such a thing? I hope you don’t mind me saying, but men already have enough advantages as is– publishing under a woman’s name instead might be considered a disadvantage.”

“Will you be publishing under your own name?”

You blinked, taking a sip from your champagne. It was something you considered and went back and forth upon. “I haven’t decided. I have a pseudonym ready just in case.”

“Do tell– so I know what name to look for on the shelves within a year.”

God, was he ever charming– and without even trying, really. He was well-spoken with a voice that was soft and almost whispery. It made butterflies bubble in the pit of your stomach– now that was a feeling you weren’t familiar with. “Dorian Gray.”

“Cheeky woman.” he mused. “Fancy a dance, Miss Gray?”

“... I suppose I could be swayed.”

–

Your dance together, to say the least, was a success– it started month’s worth of courting after. Aemond took you on the most splendid nights out, wining and dining you like you were a gorgeous, interesting debutante. It was exhilarating to say the least and made you feel… truly wanted– especially since his family was exceedingly wealthy, your father’s wealth couldn’t have attracted him.

He took you to the theater, out to wondrous restaurants, and bought you various gifts like jewelry, writing supplies and outfits to wear when you went out.

It all felt very much like a dream to you– something beyond your usual, weary routine that had hardly ever changed since your mother died when you were eight years old. You’d recused into yourself then, the dark hallways that scared you so fiercely just before her death now seemed welcoming. You thrived in the dark, like a moth.

But now, you felt something more akin to a butterfly, bathing in the sun’s light.

It wasn’t a great surprise when Aemond asked your father for his blessing to marry you. Your father, who had harped you for years to get married, was suddenly apprehensive.

He pulled you aside, arm around you. “Do you like this boy, dear?”

“Y-yes, father– very much so.”

“I’ll be honest, sweetheart. I’m not exactly keen on letting my only daughter go off with… some man–”

“He isn’t just some man, father! He’s a Targ–”

“Don’t interrupt,” he chastised firmly. “I’ve had my people look into his family further– it’s a whole mess, issues with succession, backstabbing, incest, the whole nine yards,” he took a measured breath. “But I’ve heard nothing but good things about… Aemond. But… you’d be so far away. You’d be off living in the annals of England, a whole boat’s ride away.”

“This is what you wanted, father! For me to marry, for me to be happy! This is the happiest I’ve been in… so long. You must see that?”

The creases in your father’s forehead relaxed as he regarded you for a long moment, before turning to Aemond, who was waiting patiently off to the side. He let go of your shoulder and walked to your beau, staring at him sternly. “Will you treat her right? Give her everything she deserves and more?”

Aemond perked up slightly, rubbing the side of his forefinger with his thumb in a seemingly nervous gesture. “Of course, sir. I’ll give her everything I have and more. She will be regarded as a Lady– the Lady Targaryen of Dragonstone Hall, and she wouldn’t be treated with any less respect than a Lady deserves.”

Your father’s gaze narrowed, taking it all into careful thought. “... very well. You have my blessing, son. But, one whiff of even a tear from her eye on your account, and your nads are forfeit. I may not be as well-off as your family, but I’ve got a lot of friends in a lot of places.”

–

The marriage was a quick affair, as your father, and now Aemond, knew you had no patience for pomp and frills. Aemond gave you a beautiful ring with an absolutely gigantic sapphire inlaid in the center, citing it as a family heirloom from centuries past. Your father saw you off onto the boat, bawling his eyes out. You’d never seen your father cry– not once.

As husband and wife, you both agreed to wait to celebrate your wedding night until you arrived in England at his family’s estate to your marital bed.

The trip overall was a little under a week’s time upon a luxurious liner, where you both enjoyed champagne and each other’s company. You craved your husband, and he craved you in the same, but you each wished to keep your agreement intact. But it was increasingly hard, as you held one another close each night and his need for you was clearly pressed to your lower back.

Dragonstone Hall was a few hours' carriage ride north of the port and was nestled upon a high-ridged cliff. It was as gorgeous as the pictures had depicted, even moreso. It was ancient, imposing against the skyline and mingling to the clouds, where sea birds and ravens alike swirled above the towering watch towers that were supported by stone walls with vines grasping to them like lifelines.

It was gorgeous, gothic and most definitely haunted– a perfect place for a woman of horror such as yourself.

Aemond helped you out of the carriage, a hand placed upon your waist as he guided you beyond the gates. Your eyes were wide with wonder, taking in the scenery like a breath of fresh air. Tears threatened to spill over suddenly, as you were just overwhelmed with everything going on. You were married to someone you loved, who loved you– and were the Lady Targaryen of Dragonstone Hall.

“Something wrong, my love?” Aemond whispered into your ear, his lips tickling your lobe.

“N-no– I’m just… very happy.”

He wiped the tears away with the pad of his thumb, clearing your vision. You glanced up at one of the windows on the third story of the castle. Someone was staring back at you.

A lady. Her hair was red, her skin almost translucent.

You must’ve been imagining it, surely. Looking to another window, another visage appeared.

Another– this time with dirty blonde hair, her blue eyes ghastly and bloodshot. She was practically see through.

You pressed closer to Aemond, blinking profusely– it must’ve been the exhaustion from the nights on the boat catching up to you. Once you rubbed your eyes, you looked back; the figures were gone.

As you approached the main door of the estate, another face caught your eye.

Another woman– with dark hair and sullen, emerald eyes. They pierced through you like two heavy jewels, making goosebumps prickle atop your arms. She wasn’t ghastly or undeathly like the other two, and when you rubbed your eyes, she was still there.

She was still there, very much a living person in the flesh, with flowing blood and a beating heart. And she was beautiful.

#aemond fic #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #house of the dragon aemond #aemond x fem!reader #prince aemond #aemond one eye #hotd fanfic #aemond fanfic #aemond fandom #my writing #beware the sapphire peak #alysmond #alys rivers #alys rivers x aemond #alys rivers x reader #alys rivers x reader x aemond targaryen

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alemonyoyo · 3 months

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No Country for Young Humans - Chapter 8.5

I am officially back at school, attending my final year of high school! I will be busy, chapters will come out very infrequently!

To tide you over, since I am exhausted, have this short little bit of actual PLOT!!! (IK not just North Star fluff, dw, that will come soon).

Also, I'm drifting a little from the UTY fandom (yeah, uh oh) but I definitely DON'T wanna abandon this fic!

Worse comes to worse, I'll finish it swiftly, and do my best to still make that entertaining. This is the longest fic I think I've ever wrote, most of my other stuff is oneshots!

Sorry about all that, hopefully you can enjoy this very short snippet of what's to come (maybe heh).

Missed the previous chapters? Check out the Masterlist!

Words: 552

Tags: GN Reader, Jealousy, Plot?

Summary: We shift to a new perspective as things unfold behind the scene.

Chapter 8.5 - A New Perspective:

There was a piercing sound in the air. It was faint, but persistent. Her ears, sharp as a dagger, picked up its sound all too well. As she fumbled with the equipment splayed out on the desk beneath her, she found her patience waning thin, the sound piercing into her skull, stabbing like the thick spears of the Royal Guard.

How could she let it get this far? How could she have been so stupid? She should have killed them right then and there when they walked into the Wild East, yet the look on his face; it healed all of her wounds, though only for a moment. She entertained this idea only to keep him happy, but it had been too long now to turn back.

Ceroba walked over to the vials of serum, each a pungent blue in colour, painfully standing out amongst the backdrop of muted greys. She had to do this. For Kanako. It was the only way to keep her alive.

Going through with this though, she thought, would ruin everything for him.

She had never felt so happy for him, the moment they admitted their feelings for him. That flustered look on their face, all bashful yet trusting in her company. They *trusted* her. Star trusted her. And she was going to throw that all away.

Finally, Starlo was going to feel the love she had always wanted him to experience, taken away from the years of torment she knew she put him through. She was happy then, and he was miserable. Now it was like night and day as she wallowed in a sea of misery. But he would be happy. He would finally be happy.

Ceroba clenched her fists tightly, walking over to the large, old TV. No- She can’t let this sway her. Surely Star would be happier knowing her child was safe and out of harm's way. Surely Star would be happier knowing she was happy? Surely she meant more to him? She pressed the small round button on the TV, knowing the tape was already loaded in the slot when she had last watched it. A sobering reminder of why she had to do this.

It wasn’t just for Kanako. It wasn’t just for Chujin. But for the fate of the world.

Well, that is what she told herself as she waited for the video to play, though she was only met with static. Ceroba smacked a pawed hand on the TV, growing impatient and frustrated as she sobbed out. This was too much! Too hard of a choice! Why was this her choice to make? Why couldn’t she have both? Why did they have to be human?

She ceased her abuse of the TV, instead pressing the eject button, waiting for the tape to shift out of the slot. She waited, the still ringing sound of the machines around her whirring in an annoying fashion. She heard the mechanics in the TV shift, the slot opening and pushing out the thick, heavy air. There was no tape, nothing at all.

She felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end, reaching panicked hands into the slot, trying to slip down into the small slit. Empty.

Someone had taken Chujins tape which could only mean-

Someone knew.

***

“母？”

#undertale #uty #undertale yellow #uty north star #uty starlo #north star uty #starlo uty #starlo #north star #undertale yellow north star #undertale yellow starlo #starlo undertale yellow #north star undertale yellow #fanfiction #north star x reader #starlo x reader #north star uty x reader #starlo uty x reader #no country for young humans

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airbendertendou · 4 months

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31 and with Tsuji please 🙏🏻

a rough number 31 + tsuji sameoka!reader

"MY PATIENCE IS WANING, IS THIS ENTERTAINING?"

he can't feel it anymore. really, the countless fists and kicks bruising into his body don't even hurt anymore. shibaman had long since passed out, merely groaning in his sleep as he's hit continuously. tsuji can barely turn his head to check on his friend, make sure he's still breathing, at least.

"don't you think that's enough?" like an angel beaming down on him, tsuji hears your voice. his shattered glasses reflect the image of you with your arms crossed. "are you trying to kill them? that's illegal, shoji. you want to leave me and spend your life in jail?"

your brother looks at you incrediously, "i'm not doing anything to them, am i?"

you roll your eyes at him, "right. you just give the orders." gesturing to the two bodies on the ground, you simply stare him down. "so, order them."

shoji stares at you before clicking his tongue. you were like your mother in that way - able to get him to do anything with just one look. "yeah, alright. that's enough! time to leave."

"but-"

your brother is quick to grab the boy by his collar, cutting off his protest with a choke. "we wanted to send a message. message sent. let's go."

retreating footsteps cause tsuji to relax. he waits for the pain to hit him - for darkness to greet him and take him away for just a second. as he turns his head, he sees polished, pristine shoes.

you look down at him with a frown. shoji stands a distance away, not saying a word as he watches you place a mediocre first aid kit between the two. "sorry," you mumble, "i wish i could stop them. rest well and heal, hm?"

"name, let's go!"

tsuji repeats your name in his head until he falls unconcious. he'd remember you - your kindness and the hold you have on your brother. name, he'd remember you, and the angel you were.

——♡—— love writing siblings w hnl tbh the dynamics are v fun to play around w tagging @high-and-low-all-the-way for hnl content <3

request your own here ♡ read more

#🍬: wrapped!#tsuji x reader #tsuji imagine #tsuji high&low #tsuji high and low #high&low the worst x #high&low the worst #high&low the worst cross #high&low x reader #high&low imagines #high & low x reader #high & low imagines #high and low x reader #high and low imagines

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revenant-coining · 1 month

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Bonesprechoric

[pt: Bonesprechoric /end pt]

[id: a rectangular flag with 6 equally-sized horizontal lines with a thick line in the middle. colors in this order from top to bottom: dark blue, purple, pinkish-purple, light dull red, pinkish-purple, purple, dark blue. /end id]

Bonesprechoric; a gender connected to the pre-chorus: “My patience is waning, is this entertaining?/Our patience is waning, is this entertaining?” from the song “Bones” by Imagine Dragons.

etymology; bones, prechoric

for cam!

tagging; @radiomogai, @thecoffeecrew404

[id: a rosy-pink line divider. /end id]

#🪼 creations #boneprechoric #prechoric #gender #neogender #xenogender #liom #mogai #category: genders

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all-my-friends-were-glorious · 2 years

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[ Closed Starter For @southxparkxafterxdark || Ryder ]

[ Ozzy ]

He had been waiting for a good portion of the night, really.

Skulking around the pond had been fun, at first, until it became boring, and then lonely, and he had considered calling this off. However, things were getting worse, and he knew that if he wanted to get out of this, to survive this, then he would have to do something.

After all, nobody was going to do it for him. His mother made it a rule that he had to do things for himself by himself.

Returning to watch the church, Ozzy had simply opted to fly to the top and wait, keep an eye on things, and hope that his smell was masked enough. Aster’s scent was stale, here, from living under the catacombs for a while, which meant he wasn’t around. Arlo’s heartbeat approaching had him hunkering down tight to the rooftop, but he and Ris seemed to leave together without noticing him.

That was when he’d taken the quickest way down into the graveyard to find his father, absolutely sure that they wouldn’t be interrupted. Choosing a night he knew Arlo and Ris would be gone had definitely helped. With any luck, Ris didn’t know he was there.

Maybe his mother hadn’t adopted those Parental Senses, yet.

“Dad-- I... Uh... Can I talk to you for a bit?” Ozzy asked, finally, his eyes on the gate as he stepped closer to him. He’d been watching Ryder preparing a gravesite, likely for the next morning, and so he was sure to have a captive audience, “It’s... Pretty heavy, though. But I need to say it before I run out of time to.”

#This Reckless Decadence Is Taking Things A Little Too Far (Ozzy Makowski)#My Patience Is Waning Is This Entertaining? (Ozzy and Ryder - SouthxParkxAfterxDark)#cw vampirism #cw cannibalism

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sjhanny2000 · 2 years

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Fights and Sweet Touches (Finale)

A/N: Hello friends! Sorry that it took me so long to publish this part! Between starting my new job as a teacher and working on my own mental health, it's been tough to get in the writing mood. However, it seems that all I needed was a break and I was good to go! Anyways, here is the long awaited finale of F&ST and I'll warn you now, this is only the beginning.

Warning(s): SPOILERS FOR KNY SEASON 2, separation of partners, marital disputes, depression, anxiety, AU-canon, mention/reference to past SA/abuse, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, emotional imbalances, pregnancy, pregnancy complications

Words: 4.6K+

~~~~~~~~

“-name the baby something pretty, like Momoka!”

*smack*

“Like hell we are! That name’s stupid!”

“WAAAAAAHHHHHHH! Hina’, Y/N-chan!”

In truthful honesty, you were merely minutes away from strangling the two kunoichi sitting across from you. You usually had a significant tolerance when it came to Makio and Suma’s antics, in fact most of the time you watched on with fond exasperation from the sidelines as they bickered, but today you simply had no patience to deal with them. Well, it seemed your patience altogether was waning with every passing day, your already sensitive self now increasingly volatile with a raging tide of hormones rushing through your system. Anything and anyone seemed to set you off without warning most days, much to your chagrin, especially when you began to blubber uncontrollably upon your departure from Oshika.

Though, in all honest reality, leaving the small, quaint village you had come to call your second home had been extremely difficult for not only you but for the village residents. Many tears were spilt between you and Hana-san throughout your lengthy goodbyes, Suma coming in a close third, and when Riku-san bid you a terse goodbye with tears of her own in the typically emotionless woman’s eyes, you hadn’t been to hold back the sobs threatening to fall from your lips. Your tears failed to cease as you and your wives watched the villagers wave goodbye until they were merely specks in the distance, their farewells echoing for what seemed like miles. The three kunoichi did their best to soothe your aching heart whilst your journeyed down the mountain side in a rickshaw wagon Naoki-san had graciously allowed you and your wives to borrow, telling you of their various ventures across Japan whilst in search of you and what seemed to be everything under the sun to act as a distraction to your distress. The particular story of their time in the Entertainment District had been one you found the hardest to swallow, guilt and worry eating away at your mental walls at hearing how close to death all three wives had been.

Such emotions only grew heavier at knowing Tengen had been the one who bore the most damage from that battle.

A part of you had cracked at hearing the state your husband had been left in at the end of the fight, standing at death’s door due to the ghastly amount of poison coursing through his system, not mention the amount of blood he had lost throughout the tussle with Upper Moon Six due to his grievous injuries. Your husband in the end had been forced to retire, his left eye and hand gone, and in that sacrifice, he and your wives had finally obtained what they had dreamed of for years. Tengen could finally just be a man, not a shinobi, not a Demon Slayer, just Uzui Tengen, the very man you still loved. Yet, a majority of yourself still felt painful bitter sweetness when it came to the man who had caused you such pain, the one who promised to care for you, a stance he had sternly buckled down on tenfold following your experience with the demon inhabiting poor Tatsuya’s body.

Your current stance was one your three wives were currently experiencing, though at varying levels. Makio was easily the angriest out of the four of you, the woman already being predisposed due to her fiery temper, and she had no trouble saying what was on her raging mind.

“If you don't want to see him, we’ll kick him out of the house! The bastard can sleep in the barn for all I care! Hell, the koi pond even!”

The kunoichi, much like the rest of you, had been hurt by not only Tengen’s words but by his actions as well. Whilst you had been present for the fallout and had left knowing your location, it had been revealed to you that the man in question had failed to notice your absence until the next morning when your wives’ returned home from the Butterly Mansion. Nao-san had wasted no time in forcing Tengen to divulge the previous evening’s events to the three women, the older woman reportedly furious enough with the Sound Hashira that she was willing to feed him to the dogs without a shred of hesitation. The situation only grew more dire and their relationships more strained when you were discovered to have left, to the point that your wives’ contact with Tengen was minimal at best.

Hinatsuru, who typically was the most level headed out of the four of you, had proven to be nearly inconsolable upon hearing what your husband had done and had promptly taken Makio and Suma with her to begin what would be a nearly six month long search for you. She only spoke of the man when someone else brought him up in conversation and even then her lips were tightly clipped shut, which spoke volumes on how she viewed his hand in the situation. While Makio had no problem in shit talking Tengen, something which Hinatsuru still corrected for the most part, but she herself only gave the bare minimum when it came to giving the man her own respect and trust.

“We’ve all made mistakes, Makio. He’s are just especially stupid.” Hinatsuru glared at your fellow wife, distaste of Makio’s brash words evident. “Tengen-sama is still our husband and our lord; give respect where it is due!”

To put it simply, she was cordial but nothing more. The violet-eyed kunoichi only defended Tengen when the other two became too far leaning on different ends of the emotional spectrum, Makio being angry whilst Suma was depressed. She often did the same for you when you experienced your wide and swiftly shifting range of emotions, acting as a firm, rocky foundation during the storm that became your thoughts and feelings in your pregnancy. Hinatsuru had been the one to insist on moving forward with every dead end she, Suma, and Makio were met with, when letter after letter from the other individuals searching for you only yielded failure upon frustrating failure.

Such failures had proven to fuel Suma’s already clingy and tearful tendencies. Suma was a woman that was regularly susceptible to mood swings, a fact that nearly knew and could never dispute upon meeting her. From blubbering wails to fits of rage, Suma was the one wife everyone underestimated until she truly lost it, whether that be to the sea of tears always threatening to fall from gorgeous azure eyes or her hands wrapping around one's throat. Since your reunion, the woman seemed to be permanently stuck within a sea of depression, something that worried not only you but Hinatsuru and Makio as well. The tearful kunoichi hadn’t truly cried for months, according to the other two, having grown quiet and sullen throughout their search. You yourself had seen evidence of her silent depressed state of despair, a bitter pill you struggled to swallow with guilt because it had been your absence that had put Suma in such an awful position.

All eyes fell onto Suma’s solemn face, eyes downcast and bottom lip trembling. “Makio’s right. Y/N-chan only left because of what he said! We’ve had to miss out on the majority of their pregnancy, something we’ve always imagined experiencing together! If he hadn’t said what he said, we would have never gone to the Entertainment District and Tengen-sama would have never been hurt-!”

Still, even with your hand in the situation, the only one Suma blamed was Tengen. If the Sound Hashira came up in conversation, Suma could only gaze downwards with a look of betrayal sitting on her typically cheerful face, all childlike innocence she once possessed evaporating in a matter of seconds. Her unwillingness to speak about Tengen only grew the closer you all came to home, the emotional kunoichi putting all of her attention on you and the baby almost to the point of suffocation. Suma had no problem in expressing her frustration in missing so many ‘first moments’, as she called them, and unknown to her, it only caused your guilt to deepen. All three of them failed to realize that the situation at hand had been one that had not only been crafted by Tengen but by you as well, although they failed to hear you out on the matter every time you tried to argue on it.

With the release of a tired sigh of fondness, Hinatsuru broke you free from your ocean of thoughts, (e/c) irises falling on the woman sitting beside you. “Makio, what have we said about baby name shaming? Suma has every right to her three name choices, just like the rest of us!”

“Yeah, but c’mon Hina’, hers are ridiculous and only for girls at that! First she said Koume, then Suika, and now Momoka!” Makio crossed her arms over her full chest with a growl, glaring at the teary kunoichi with contempt. “We are not naming our baby after a stupid fruit! And better yet, what if it’s a boy, ya numbskull?!”

“It’s gonna be a girl, I can just feel it!” The azure-eyed kunoichi shouted back, clenching her fists in front of her person with defiance.

Before either you or Hinatsuru could intervene, Makio swooped back in without pause. “Are you seriously forgetting that Uzuis are notorious for having boys?! Tengen-sama had five brothers and only two sisters! Plus, Y/N-chan only had two sisters out of seven siblings, the other five were boys!”

The feisty kunoichi did have a fair point there. Males were more prevalent in both Tengen and yours families, with his father being one out of eight sons and your own the fifth and final son from a group of seven siblings. Tengen was the eldest of nine and you the youngest of eight, your number of siblings only being so large due to there being three sets of twins, you being one member of those pairs. The likeliness of your unborn child being a boy was practically guaranteed, seeing as how both Tengen and your eldest sibling, Tsunamaru, were male.

Suma let out a haughty huff, moving to cross her arms over her chest in defiance. “So?! Both of them had sisters too and Y/N-chan’s a girl! That means there’s still a chance!”

Childish, borderline petty arguments had filled a considerable amount of your time on the road and it simply wasn’t just between those two kunoichi specifically over trivial matters such as baby names. You yourself, much to the three kunoichis’ surprises at first, had come to add your piece to the chaos that always seemed to be present within your marriage, often either bursting into tears or throwing what Makio had annoyingly dubbed temper tantrums. The mood swings had gotten so bad at times that you had bitten Makio over dango one particular trifling evening.

It didn’t help that making the journey to your temporary home in Oshika had already been draining when you were without the extra weight you now carried within you, and now here you were, traveling homewards in a heavily pregnant state with your three wives. What had once taken you a week to travel now increased to nearly two, your body growing tired easily as your already large unborn child within only came to grow more in weight and size. Your size had been a great topic of discussion amongst the four of you as you carried ever forward, unexpected feelings and particularly naughty thoughts emerging from your wives at the mere sight of your swollen womb. Never could you have expected how in awe they were of your pregnant state, each kunoichi protective and clingy in their own ways, and while it flattered (and flustered) you, it also was an annoyance.

At seven months and a half months pregnant, you were growing increasingly uncomfortable, causing you to be irritable and short tempered, something that proved to be a struggle for your wives to handle. Your mood swings often unintentionally put everyone in either a foul or depressed state, Suma often crying alongside you and Makio only fueling your rage. Hinatsuru was also susceptible to these moods, much to your honest surprise, the usually even keeled kunoichi ruthlessly snapping at her fellow wives when either Suma or Makio spurred on your current emotional state. It was safe to say that your pregnancy had now become a group affair rather than yours alone.

“If you two don’t stop it with all this bickering, I’ll simply allow Rengoku-san to name this child!” A warning growl left your body, face curling into a snarl at the baby’s foot striking your bladder for what had to be the millionth time in this hour alone. “And we don’t want that, do we?!”

Once, the topic of the name the first child of your family had come forth at a dinner Tengen had hosted at the estate for the other Hashira, and the ridiculousness that had followed had left you in a state of embarrassment for days afterward. Some of your husband’s comrades had been eager to offer up names, particularly Rengoku-san, Kanroji-san, and Shinobu-san. Kanroji-san, much like Suma, had been quite adamant on the first child being a girl whom she swooned over being named Hanako, at least until Shinobu-san informed the group of the slim likelihood of your and Tengen’s genetics allowing that to happen. With the Love Hashira deflated, Shinobu-san wasted no time in offering her opinion, stating with great confidence that the baby would be a boy and he would be named Yoroi. Rengoku-san wasted no time in drowning out her suggestion, shouting readily that the child would be a little girl with Tengen’s hair and your eyes and he would choose to name her Mami, after flax seed. The others soon offered their own input on the matter, including Makio, Suma, and Hinatsuru, and before you could even comprehend what was happening, everyone had promptly split into two fierce factions. Even Tomioka-san and Tokito-san, the two least emotional members of the Hashira, had taken part, the Water Pillar thinking the child would be a boy and the fourteen year old joining the group of girl enthusiasts. In the end, you were left with burning cheeks whilst your husband laughed good heartedly at the group’s antics as they slowly vacated the premises of the estate to return to their own. That night had only grown to be beyond embarrassing when you heard that even Oyakata-sama had joined in on the argument, offering his own thoughts on the matter. After that debacle, you had sternly put your foot down at any of the Hashira naming your non-existent child. If you were honest, all of Suma’s proposed names didn’t sit right with you either, but as Hinatsuru said, all of you had a right to offer up their own names for the new addition to your family.

Even Tengen.

At the mention of the loud Flame Hashira, both women zipped their lips shut, allowing a sweet and fulfilling moment’s peace to fill the peace of your wagon. Satisfied with the outcome of your thinly veiled threat, you primed yourself to enjoy the sudden quiet, until a sharp jab to your ribs and in turn a gasp of pain racing from your mouth caused said silence to be ripped into a thousand pieces. You couldn’t help but pant whilst curling around yourself, the pain of your unborn child’s foot making harsh contact with your ribs radiating unrelentlessly, and it promptly sent your three wives’ into a tizzy.

“Y/N-chan, are you alright?” Hinatsuru, being the closest to you, wrapped a protective arm around your curved back, her other hand coming to land worriedly on your arm.

Tears threatened to fall from your (e/c) eyes, a distressed whimper slipping from your lips. “Big kick!”

A calloused yet well-manicured hand began to rub your right calf in comfort and you looked up just slightly to see Makio kneeling before you, a look of concern sitting on her beautiful face. “Slow and easy breaths, just like that. Good, Y/N-chan.”

They had experienced a fair share of these debilitating moments with you since your triumphant reunion, forced to watch you suffer whilst they did everything in their power to comfort you. Times such as these forced you to remember the bitter wisdom Enna-san had given you upon your departure from Oshika, the midwife wearing a grim face amidst her farewell.

“It is best to remain vigilant of your state of being, Ahmya-san. The baby’s current size already does not bode well for your small stature.” The worn but soothing hands of Enna-san grasped your hands with worried passion. “If they happen to grow much larger, it could prove to be disastrous for the both of you.”

Her truth of her words grew heavier with each passing day, as did the growth of your child. You were quiet in your worry about the upcoming delivery, the risks bearing laboriously on your mind. The size difference between you and your husband was drastic, Tengen being an entire foot and a half taller than your meager 4’11” and far larger than you could ever dream to be in terms of body mass, though your frame was nothing less than durable to say the least. Your fellow wives’ were at least of average height, Hinatsuru and Suma standing at 5’2” while Makio was a mere inch taller, which left you as the smallest, something you both enjoyed and lamented over. Over time, the girls and Tengen himself gave witness to the largeness that seemed to be one of the hereditary traits of the Uzui clan, all being of strong stature and even greater heights. It was only natural for your unborn child to take after your father, though this did not bode well for you, a woman of a family that were average if not small sized people. You had taken after your mother in your height, becoming the shortest of your family upon her untimely death, and with your father’s standard height of 5’5”, you truly had no genetic hope of being of normal height yourself. The tallest in your family, the twins Chimon and Chikao, stood at the fair height of 5 '7'' according to their correspondences to you over the years, the pair only being 5’2” upon your last time seeing them. All of you had been smaller back then, before your father began to shred your already fraying family to pieces until only you, poor unmarriable Y/N remained.

“We’re nearly to the Uzui estate, ma’ams!”

Slowly, you were able to return to your full sitting height, a wave of nerves washing over at the coachman’s damning words. “I think they can tell that we're near home, they’ve been becoming more restless with every passing hour.”

In a blur of movement, Suma joined Makio on the floor of the wagon, giving your stomach a stern glare. “You better behave in there! No more hurting Y/N-chan, ya got that?”

“Are you seriously threatening our unborn child?” A drop of sweat rolled down Makio’s face, her face glancing at the blue-eyed woman with contempt before promptly smacking the back of her head, in turn causing Suma to cry. “Just how stupid are you?!”

“WAAAAAHHHHHH!!!”

Hinatsuru exasperatingly shook her head at the two and turned to you, fresh concern blooming on her face. “Has the pain subsided?”

“For now. Hopefully they’ll settle down when we arrive.” You shot her a tired smile, moving your hands to cup your under belly.

Silence filled the wagon, all three wives bearing varying degrees of emotions in not only their facial features but their body language as well. All of you would be filthy liars if you said that you were excited to be returning home; in fact, the only reason why you hadn’t jumped out of the back of the wagon six miles back was because you know that no good would come from delaying the inevitable. That your wives’ wouldn’t allow you to do something like that in your current state.

Still, each of you had a cross to bear in this situation. Suma was disappointed and upset, whilst Makio was simply furious with the man’s poor decisions, and Hinatsuru, ever the sweet soul, had grown painfully bittersweet. You yourself were embroiled in hefty emotions, fear and anxiety clashing deafeningly within your question-filled mind. Once Tengen saw the state you were in, would he regret you outright or would he tolerate you till the baby was born then cast you out? You feared so many things when it came to Tengen, something that had never occurred until that accursed evening that you berated yourself over so many times over the past months that you had lost count. Yet, a tiny part of you believed, no, begged that Tengen would welcome you with shocked but open arms, that he would hold you close while feeling the child within you toil about in your womb.

What a miracle that would be.

“We’ve arrived, young ladies!”

‘Kami, give us strength.’

Peering beyond the tarp covering, you caught sight of the place you had woefully thought you’d never see again, a flutter of contentment surging through you at seeing newly bloomed flowers decorate the walls of the estate alongside the ever drooping wisteria trees.

“Y/N-chan, are you ready?”

Your attention snapped to the back of the wagon, where Hinatsuru and Makio waited patiently for you with outstretched hands, Suma already having vacated and standing at the ready a mere foot away. The violet-eyed kunoichi moved forward to assist you in standing to your feet, a task that had only grown more difficult with the growth of your child, and she carefully led you over to the surprisingly patient and cautious Makio.

“Easy, Y/N-chan. Don’t strain yourself!”

With the efforts of your three wives, they managed to ease you out of the wagon and onto the solid ground of the dirt road below, a soft moan escaping you at having to stand for the first time in hours.

“Wait right here, alright? I’m going to pay the driver.” Hinatsuru swiftly disappeared from sight as she went around the corner of the wagon to where the driver was perched on his bench, their words faint but lively enough to hear the remnants of.

Looking at your two remaining wives, you quickly took note of Suma’s frown visage, something clearly bothering the youngest of the kunoichi. “Suma, are you alright?”

She didn’t even bother to look at you, a rare look of seriousness shadowing her typically cheery features. “He should have appeared by now.”

Makio and you knew who she was talking about in an instant, it was hard not to, and before you could say a word, the doors of the front gate slammed upon with a resounding boom. The force behind the sound proved to be quite powerful, enough that both doors hung limply from their mutilated hinges and in the midst of the chaos stood-.

In your travels, your wives had described the amount of damage Tengen had endured following his fight with Upper Six Moon, a battle that had left a majority of the Entertainment District in shambles and your husband without his left eye and hand. However, none of their descriptions could have prepared you for the sight before you.

Tengen, for as long as you had known the man, had been all but obsessed about his outward appearance and physique. He trained daily not only for his occupation but for his own satisfaction, just as you did gardening and sewing. However, it seemed that your abrupt separation had not only taken its toll on you and the girls but your husband as well.

His once pristine and well kept hair was greasy and stringy, hanging limply around his tired face, an state you rarely saw him in if ever. The kimono he was wearing was loose fitting and not exuberant at all, clashing distastefully with the jewels adorning his eye patch, something that the Tengen you knew would never stand for. His one remaining eye was frantic, a singular fuchsia colored iris glancing around in search of something until suddenly, it came to stop on you.

The already tense air grew thicker somehow, making it almost impossible to breathe, your gazes never leaving each other’s. It felt as if you were drowning, the sea of sorrowful hesitation and shame in his eye so damning that you wanted to soothe your husband as his worries; you could only imagine what Tengen saw in your eyes, perhaps the turmoil you had been experiencing since you took off without a single word. He must have seen something, for heart wrenching guilt welled in his eye, tears coming to grace the brim of his lower eyelid. Before either of you could even muster the strength to create a sound, Makio and Suma were standing in front of you with discouraging glares, the pair hiding all but your head from Tengen’s limited view.

Had he seen-?

Before he could confirm your suspicions, Hinatsuru was moving in front of him with her hands raised in placation, the kunoichi saying something that must have caught his attention, his eye snapping over to her person. A waiver of weakness overran the man, you could see it from across the road, and he simply stood there dejected and despondent, similar to that of a lost puppy. His lips quivered, his only remaining hand raising as if to object to something Hinatsuru said, but it halted halfway in a sense of defeat you had never seen your husband be in. Whilst he wilted, Hinatsuru turned her attention to the three of you, giving your two wives a knowing look before returning her gaze to Tengen, saying something that had the man’s face turning red with frustration.

His gaze returned to you, still pained but in need as well, a suffocating longing panting his features just as yours did the same, though you were still on edge at the mere sight of him. You should be angry with him, furious even, but for some reason, your temper was meager embers of discontent. Instead, you felt as if you were drowning within yourself, your heart and lungs aching because this was the you had–no, still loved, the one that treated you like a queen in all but one awful moment. That moment had left you questioning everything for so long, whether you had been selfish, what could you have done differently, why had he reacted so harshly? Such questioning left you heavy hearted and your mind wandering aimlessly through fields of thoughts and scenarios.

Why Tengen?

Tears brimmed in your eyes at his distraught, wanting to comfort the man, but you knew that you deserved more. He had done wrong to you, all those around you these last months had said so, and such wrongs had pushed you to leave in shambles and to endure your unexpected pregnancy alone. Your current condition had been the topic of ire that evening, the one that had destroyed everything you and Tengen had built together, and you feared your return would be all for not when he realized you were carrying the child he didn’t want. Was forgiveness even an option in this case? Possibly, but how could you trust him again? How could you believe that he actually would love this child rather than simply tolerate it to appease everyone? That was no life you wanted for your baby nor for yourself and if that were the case, you’d rather leave right now than waste your time. Yet, as his wife, you vowed to remain with him in sickness and in health.

What a dilemma of morals you found yourself to be in this beautiful, sunny afternoon.

~~ The End? ~~

A/N: This particular series has ended but more awaits. The story will continue in "Baby Maybe?", which happens to be the last story of the previous followers event. That said, I'm looking for a beta reader so I can churn pieces out faster! Let me know through private messaging if you're interested!

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horroreo · 7 months

Text

My patience is waning, is this entertaining?

#jrwi fanart #jrwi prime defenders #jrwi william #william wisp #I can't stop drawing dem boys #I need to draw Ashe

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infinitecrybaby · 1 year

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My patience is waning, is this entertaining? ❄

pronouns: they/them

#TS4 #ts4 screenshots #sims #sims 4 #sims 4 screenshots #simblr

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taurus-caeli · 1 month

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The Exciting Chronicles of The Shapeshifter & The Eccentric Gentleman

I / II / III / IV (You're here) / V

My patience is waning

Is this entertaining?

Our patience is waning

Is this entertaining?

(Bones, Imagine Dragons)

Words: 2.4k

Number One opens the door and quietly steps inside; behind me, it shuts with a soft click. There’s grass beneath his shoes.

Scratch that, there’s grass everywhere.

Observing his surroundings, it looks like there’s a miniature forest here. Grass seems to have grown from underneath the floorboards. Seedlings are sprouting not just from the floor but the walls as well and the sweet scent of flowers permeates the air (it’s almost nauseating). Birdsong can be heard from somewhere further in.

Directly in front of him is some kind of object that used to be a bed; now it’s more like a nest made from grass. Further beyond that is a hallway that goes right where the birdsong is coming from. Also, there’s an open balcony with a view a couple feet from the ‘nest’.

Suddenly, he felt out of place, like a snake slithering through the garden of some nobles’ garden. The analogy is almost appropriate because it makes him grin. Walking towards the hallway, he turns and finds a…creature hunched over in front of a table of food.

This…mass of grass held up by Celestia-knows-what and bones is staring at…a hot dog and some bento. It’s almost funny. Number One leaned against the wall, put on the most charming grin he could and dropped his perception filter. Just as they reach down to pick it up, he chooses that moment to make himself known.

“Golly! That sure does look tasty!” he said cheerfully. They make a choking noise. Their meal is swiftly forgotten in favor of finding out who said that, aka me.

All five eyes are on me now. Showtime.

“Greetings my delightfully eldritch fellow! I come in peace!” They open their mouth and his ears are assaulted with a freakin’ heavenly choir.

“¿noʎ ǝɹɐ ʞɔnɟ ǝɥʇ oɥM” Their voice sounds both male and female combined and angelic and demonic. Delightful.

He bowed his head in respect. “My apologies my good man-er, woman…beast? Creator. I’ll go with that. My apologies to my good creator, but I’m afraid I don’t understand you. A moment, if you will allow.”

And then he snapped his fingers. There’s a small change in the air, but only those such as myself and them could feel it. Eldy sniffs the air. “What did you-holy shit I can talk normally again!”

“Yes! Call me Number One. I’d like to discuss something much bigger than the both of us. A grave emergency that concerns not only you, but those in a similar situation,” I explain. Shaking his head, I add, “I hate to sound dramatic, but I’m telling it how it is. Though it’s not as serious as what you’re probably imagining.”

Eldy is listening intently. One goes on with his spiel. “Throughout the Imaginary Tree-yes that Imaginary Tree-” They look at me confused. “Wait, do you not know what that is? Ugh, fine. I am here to inform you that there are others like you caught in a leadership role that they have no experience in.”

When they don’t interrupt him, he continues. “After half a year of observation, I’ve declared it my intent to rescue those who’ve been thrust into more…risky scenarios. Imagine this: you wake up lying on a grassy field instead of your bed. You get your bearings when suddenly a bunch of familiar video game characters walk toward you, announce that you’re their long-lost god, and proceed to worship you like a bunch of cul-excited followers.”

“Does this sound familiar?” he asks, testing the waters.

Eldy just nods in lieu of an answer. “But that’s not where it ends. These innocent people soon realize they’re out of their depth; the Seven Nations all flock toward them in fealty. They can’t meet every demand no matter how earnest or hard-working they are. Eventually their ruse would be discovered and they’d be executed.”

He shakes his head in shame and sorrow. “There are those who are hunted down because they looked similar to their god. Some survive, and are forever traumatized for the rest of their life. These are the ones that suffer the most, the ones whose injustice I can’t stand. I wish to help them, and to do that I need your knowledge.”

There’s a tense unsureness in the air now. He knows it’s time to wrap this up. “I know we’ve only just met, but I humbly ask as a fellow being with empathy and decency for your guidance. I know that you have been looking into the multiverse in your spare time, researching this anomaly. Please, share what you know with me and I promise you that I will put a stop to this once and for all.”

Number One bows ninety degrees to hide his frown. “I know what I request sounds big, but all I need from you is to tell me what you know of the anomaly.”

///

As the door closed, Mercy had already shapeshifted. They became taller, their hair grew to waist-length and became colored white; it automatically braided itself too. Their clothing morphed into a black bodysuit with a white-gray sleeveless qipao top over it. Their boots became open-toed heels. When they looked down they found their arms were quite longer than usual.

Mercy walked over to a nearby window. What stared back was a young woman with snow white hair and pale iridescent eyes. Oh. She’s truly a beautiful specimen. Specimen? Spec-ugh, I need to stop hanging around Number Two. He’s infecting me with his diction.

“Anyway, time to pretend to stand guard and not let anyone in. Taking in Shenhe’s homicidal tendencies, she will act as the perfect deterrent,” Mercy said to themself in the disciple’s voice.

Thus, Mercy crossed their arms and stood in front of the door with a stoic expression. They knew it wouldn’t take long for Number One to ask for permission; Mercy figured it would take approximately ten minutes. Now, how to occupy oneself? The shapeshifter tapped their foot. This shouldn’t be too difficult…

Before they realized it, they began to hum a song. “Think of these thoughts as limitless light exposing, closing circuitry of fright/Think of each moment holding this breath as death minute in decimal…”

From what they could piece together about it, the song was supposed to be about some guy who allegedly murdered his girlfriend. Then they pleaded guilty via insanity in court and were sentenced to shock therapy. The whole thing was morbid, but there was something interesting within it. Mercy kept humming it to themself. At least the beat is catchy.

Several minutes later Mercy sensed someone up ahead. Turning the corner was a pair of teenagers; one had blue hair while the other had white hair. Upon further observation, they looked to be friends; currently they were in passionate discussion about…something related to exorcisms?They were so fixated on it that they didn’t notice Mercy until White-Hair bumped into them.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t see you-huh!? Aun-auntie Shenhe?” exclaimed White-Hair. He looked at“Shenhe” from head to toe like some sort of inspector. “What are-what are you doing here?”

“What do you mean? Is it not necessary for the Creator to have someone bodyguarding their quarters?” Mercy replied in an emotionless voice.

Blue-hair looked at White-hair with a curious expression. He leaned in close to his ear and spoke in a hushed voice. “Chongyun, didn’t you say your aunt would be working at Wanmin’s while Xiangling is out?”

Chongyun grunted. “Of course! She even told me this morning herself!”

Uh-oh, better make up an excuse to cover my tracks. What was the restaurant’s owner’s name again? …Oh, right! “Mr. Mao informed me that, ‘because business was going slow for the day, I could clock out early,’. That was what he told me. I figured I deserved an early shift, so that’s what I did.”

“Oh, I see. Well then, could we possibly greet the Creator? We know that it’s currently the time they eat breakfast, but we were wondering if we could ask them a quick question,” Chongyun explained.

“It’s very important that we do!”

Chongyun gave a flat look. “Xingqiu, asking Them if they want to practice martial-arts with you is going to get us in trouble-get you in trouble!”

Xingqiu crossed his arms and looked away indignantly like someone who’d been read like an open book. “I must disagree with you my friend. I simply wish to ask! Should they deny my request, then I will take my leave with no further complaint.”

His exorcist friend put his hands on his hips, clearly unconvinced. Before he could get a word out, Mercy interjected into their conversation.

“No means no. I’m afraid you two will have to wait until Their Grace is finished with their meal.” Please go away now, you’re bothering me.

Xingqiu opened his mouth to try again, only for Chongyun to cover it with his hand. The latter shook his head without a word; Xingqiu sighed dejectedly and accepted the silent message.

The young exorcist nodded to “Shenhe” before he turned around, led Xingqiu down the hall and turned the corner. Mercy counted to ten before they dropped their facade. With a sigh, they covered their face with their hands.

“That was…an experience. Gosh, I thought those two would never leave,” they muttered. Mercy wiped their palms on their pants. I wonder if Number One’s done yet. I’m not sure if I can handle being in the spotlight again…

Crash

The almost muted sound of porcelain hitting the floor made them snap their head to the door. Just what was going on in there?

///

SEVERAL MINUTES EARLIER…

Number One and Eldy were sipping tea on the balcony.

Number One casually sipped from a teacup while sitting cross-legged in front of Eldy. “So tell me, what are your current projects? I’m excited to hear what someone as great and powerful as you has planned for this Teyvat’s future.”

“Ah, well you know. A bunch of societal reforms are currently in the works,” they replied with a shrug of their leafy coat. Geo crystalflies had gathered in their branches to rest.

“Like what?” Number One asked curiously.

“Uh-something about banning plastics? I think-I think Neuvillette mentioned something about the waters in Fontaine being polluted the other day.” They made wild gestures in the air. “And then while having my weekly tea with Zhongli, I told him ‘no more sacrificing convicts in my name! I don’t like it!’. It took a while to convince him about it though.”

“Saving life because you think it’s precious. I can respect that.”

They shuffled their feet. “Uh, sure.

“Ah…plastic consumption. Yes, such a devilishly difficult issue to tackle…” the gentleman said thoughtfully. Another sip. “Again, I feel I must apologize for my enthusiasm earlier. I’m supposed to follow protocol, for your information, and be polite about these things. We’re rather…hm, we’re what one might call a stickler for the rules we made.”

Eldy grunted. “Well, good for you guys…”

Number one’s smile was thin. “Hm…alright. I think that’s enough pleasantries. I think it’s time you told me what you know of the SAGAU phenomenon.”

“I..what do you want me to say exactly?” Eldy said with an impatient tone. “All I know is that, back in my old world, SAGAU was nothing more than cheap isekai fanfics and cult aus. Even now, I’m still adjusting to the revelation that it was all real. I haven’t even researched whatever you were talking about-”

CRASH

Number One’s teacup fell to the floor. He was grinning, but there was no mirth in it. His voice sounded like the last strings of patience were snapping.

“Do you mean to tell me,” he said through gritted teeth. “That during these last several months, you’ve been doing nothing besides pretend to be a god, go on dates with Rex Lapis, and live as some kind of glorified pet!?”

“I-I…!” Eldy shrank into themselves like a turtle. The crystalflies sensed their owner’s anxiousness and flew out of the window. “Not…no…!”

“I grow desperate. Please tell me you know something useful. Innocent people are dying in other worlds while you are living a cushy life!” Number One said passionately. His bangs began to float to reveal yellow eyes with multiple red rings inside them.

Eldy said nothing. Instead they silently stared in awe.

////

Mercy was about to open the door when they felt the air begin to charge with energy. Behind them, they heard hurried footsteps. Several pairs of footsteps in fact. Without missing a beat, they immediately changed their form. They shrank until they were about two heads smaller than their original size.

Aw shit. They internally cringed when a hooded figure wreathed in an amber aura appeared followed by several more acolytes; his tail undulated captivatingly. Why him?

Zhongli aka Rex Lapis aka Morax strode up to them. Despite their being several crystalflies perched on his horns, it didn’t reduce the slightly oppressive presence around him. The old god stared at them in half curiosity and confusion. “Barbatos. Move aside.”

“Barbatos” opened his mouth. “Ehhh why the rush? I just finished paying a quick visit to our Emperor. Surely I didn’t intrude on anything important, it’s just breakfast after all!”

“None, but we have reason to suspect the Creator is in danger.”

“For real? Well in that case, allow me to check on them!” “Barbatos” opened the door just enough to slip through it. He gave a mischievous smile to the others before they could realize what happened. “I’ll be quick!”

SLAM

Mercy shifted back into their own form. “Number One we need to leave. Now-wait, what the hell?”

The gentleman was in front of the creator and floating above them; he was pointing at their skull-head. A chain connected his index finger with their head. Neither said anything to each other. They were just looking into each other’s eyes. It was almost creepy to look at. But Mercy shook their head; they were out of time.

“Number One!” they yelled with as much urgency they could muster. That did it. The chain abruptly snapped and retracted back into Number One’s index finger. Eldy landed on their knees.

He stared at them with a spooked look (huh, what cool eyes he has). “Mercy?”

“Morax is here-” they began.

Before they could explain further, the door behind them was blown off its hinges with a burst of Geo energy. The shapeshifter crashed into the gentleman and both were sent flying out and off the third floor.

/////////

A/N: Shenhe’s appearance description from wiki & Outfit

I like cliffhangers, especially the kind when they make one ask, “Oh no, they’re probably gonna get it in the next chapter!”. It makes one wonder just what sort of thing they’ll do to get out of it.

In hindsight, Number One had this preconceived image of Eldy. One could say his entire plan hinged on whether or not they knew of the SAGAU phenomenon. So what does he do when he doesn’t find what he needs? He dislikes going back empty-handed so he’ll find something else to get some usefulness out of. I’ll discuss & explore this more in the next chapter, but before I do I’d like to state that Number One cares an awful lot about others (This'll make sense later).

In fact, we’ll get to see more of that side next chapter.

Speaking of the next chapter, it’s gonna take four more days to write fyi. The reasons for this is that 1) I’m burnt out atm and need to recharge somewhat, and 2) I need to go over my research on how to write action sequences. I want this ending to have a solid enough impact and some research would greatly help.

Finally, those Crystalflies are the mvp!

Questions, comments, and critiques are welcome!

Taglist: @idkfitememate

#sagau #no beta we die like men #sagau fanfic #writer stuff #writers on tumblr #.mine #my ocs

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