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#howlings from the vortex
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Yes, he attempted murder. This doesn't stop him from being my little cutie patootie.
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benevolentslut · 4 months
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morallyinept · 2 months
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Northern Lights - A Joel Miller One Shot
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Summary: You and Joel watch the Northern Lights together whilst cold camping.
Pairing: Post Outbreak Joel Miller x F!Reader (No name or physical description of reader. It’s you, bub.)
Word Count: 2.3k
Scoville Smut Rating:🌶️🌶️ “It's the emergence, of.”
Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.
Warnings/Triggers: Established relationship/fingering/hand job/kissing/lots of snuggles/Joel being a grump - mostly fluff, but you get the spicy too.
NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ.☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned.
I write for me, and I share with you. If this story isn't to your taste, that's fine. Just slip quietly out the back door. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.
Author’s Note: I was watching The Last Of Us (again), and this idea came to me. Have you ever seen the Northern Lights? I've been fortunate enough to see them in Iceland, which was incredible. Would have been better if Joel was there, mind... 😍
MAIN MASTERLIST | JOEL MILLER MASTERLIST
Enjoy! 🖤
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A cold-tipped nose brushes against your cheek, rousing you from sleep.
The shadows of his face blur into clarity in the dim natural light of the camp. Your back, hard and cold on the ground, aches. The layers help, but it still seeps into your bones when you camp out so exposed like this, in the middle of a trying winter.
The steep, shadowy jags of the snow-capped mountains cut into the horizon; a deep midnight sky spackled with the twinkle of stars. A clear night, which means it’ll only get colder.
You rub your eyes, yawning. “What time is it?”
“Hell do I know.” Joel mutters as he reaches for the tin mug and pushes it into your hands. Your eyes fall on the broken watch he still wears around his wrist.
The scent of burnt, bitter coffee mists into your nostrils as it sloshes around the inside like a muddy puddle.
Your mouth becomes a vortex as you yawn, eyes dry and heavy.
A dense canopy of towering trees stretch skyward as you sit upright in the little clearing; their branches reaching out like gnarled fingers to brush against the star-studded awning above.
Despite the desolation that grips the world beyond, the forest offers a sense of tranquillity - a reminder that life, in all its beauty and complexity, still thrives in the most unlikely of places.
It’s a good place to pause; two survivors, traversing the decaying landscape of a once-thriving world, seeking refuge to rest your tired bones wherever you can.
Striking a balance between coasting in the woodlands out of sight and only daring to penetrate fallen cities or urban landscapes when you’re in dire need of supplies. It’s what's kept you both going for so long.
“Did you sleep?” You ask him as he gulps back his own coffee with fervour.
He shakes his head under a furrowed brow, greying curls billowing. You frown at him and he rolls his eyes.
“You’re going to keel over one day.” You blow on your coffee, fingers heated as you grip round the mug.
“M’not dead yet-”
Suddenly, a distant howl pierces the stillness, sending shivers down your spine. The infected are never far away, a constant reminder of the dangers lurking in the shadows.
Joel stiffens, reaching for the rifle.
“That’s not infected.” You say, listening to the shrill, barking moans emanating from deep in the forest surrounding you, and he nods, eyes darting about.
“Maybe a coyote.” He keeps hold of the rifle anyway.
The air is bitterly cool and heavy with the scent of damp earth and pine resin, creating an atmosphere of eerie stillness, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves or the distant screech of a hungry mammal.
Sipping your coffee, feeling it warm down the centre of your chest despite its acrid taste, you close your eyes again.
“Ya gon’ miss it.” Joel murmurs.
“How do you know it’s gonna happen tonight?”
“I can feel it.” He says, pottering about and with the gas stove. He pauses to glance up momentarily at the glittery sky.
“Right. The same as you can always feel it’s going to snow.”
“It snowed, didn’t it?”
“Yeah, two weeks after you said it would.” You scoff with a wry smirk.
“Just be grateful it ain’t snowing now.” He bites back.
“If it snows now I’m sleeping in the cab. You missed your calling as a weatherman, clearly.” You chortle.
“Drink ya damn coffee.” Joel grumbles, dumping the stove in the back of the truck.
“It’s really gross.” You say, offering it to him.
You smirk as he comes and sits beside you.
“You’re a coffee snob.” He remarks as he gulps it back.
“Yes I am.” You concur with a grin.
Tucking his body into the sleeping bag with you and rubbing his hands, Joel opens his arm out. You shuffle into it as you wrap your fallen scarf over your shoulder.
“Any minute now.” He gruffs, looking up at the sky with stretched eyebrows when he’s eventually settled.
“Mmhm.” You retort sceptically. “If you woke me up for nothing, expect a black eye.”
Joel snorts. “That’s some mighty big smack talk for a lil’ lady.”
You put your fists up and he kisses your knuckles with deep, big browns peering at you over the ridges.
“C’mere,” he lays right down with you horizontal, and sighs out.
Within moments, small ghostly wisps of green fleck across the sky; a gentle birth of colour that seems shy in its solo performance.
“Told ya.” He mutters, trying not to smirk.
“No-one likes a smartass, Joel.” You quip, nudging him gently.
“Yeah they do. Are ya warm enough?” He wraps the mottled scarf around you further with soft eyes lancing at you as you shiver.
As you gaze back at him, you can't help but notice the delicate web of lines that radiate outward from their corners, framing his stare with a quiet wisdom and warmth. With each smile, the crinkles deepen, forming gentle crow's feet that cradle the corners of his eyes like little parentheses of joy.
Despite the hardships you’ve faced, swinging on the precarious, fraying threads between life and death at times, there’s a lightness in the way Joel's eyes crinkle when he smiles, even if it’s a rare occurrence; a resilience that refuses to be dimmed by the darkness of this world.
And as you trace the contours of his face with your fingertips, you feel a sense of gratitude wash over your skin, warming you.
Despite the ruggedness of his facial hair, there’s a surprising silkiness to the touch, a reflection of the affection and intimacy shared between you. An unspoken tag-team who keep each other alive and well without having to utter the words out loud.
His moustache, once meticulously groomed in another life, now boasts a craggy charm, with patches of grey peeking through the remnants of its original dark colour as his youth stubbornly tries to hold on that bit longer. Each strand curls softly at the edges, adding a touch of character to his weather-beaten features.
As your hand cups his cheek, you can feel the gentle pressure of his fuzzed beard against your palm, thumb stroking at the edge of his lips where the hairs riot in a cluster of different directions as you smooth them down. You’ll probably need to help him trim them again soon and the thought makes you smile.
Despite the weariness etched into his face, there’s a quiet dignity in the way Joel carries himself, a sense of pride born of the challenges you’ve overcome together. He’s more than just a man who’s dragged you through this world with bloodied knuckles and kept you alive - he’s your confidant, your ally. Dare you even admit, a soulmate.
A shared story of love and loss, of hope and despair, woven into the fabric of your mutual beings, Joel’s gentleness in moments like this offer a sanctuary - a place where you can be yourself without reservation, without the tough bravado where your fears and doubts melt away in the pull of his hypnotic eyes.
“Lookit.” He breaks the spell and pushes your chin gently with a thick finger toward the direction of the sky.
Above you, the Northern Lights paint the firmament alive with their mesmerising hues, casting an otherworldly glow upon the world below. Soft tendrils of pink and violet unfurl like delicate petals around the spectacular emerald green.
They pulse and flicker with a rhythmic cadence, casting a soft, iridescent glow that bathes the landscape in a surreal, spooky light.
Joel wraps his arm around you, pulling you in closer as you share the warmth of the sleeping bag and your layered up bodies crushed tight against one another.
"Look at that," you whisper, your voice barely audible above the gentle rustle of the leaves carrying with it the faint scent of pine and earth. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of seeing this.”
Joel nods in silent agreement, his gaze fixed on the swirling display of colours overhead.
In that moment, it feels as though you’re the only two people left in the world, cocooned in your own little bubble of warmth and intimacy from the brackens of an oncoming harsh winter that’ll test both your resilience over again.
You both watch in silent wonder, lost in the beauty of the moment, for moments like these are hard to come by. A respite in the doom-filled survival that snaps at you daily, for a moment of shared awe.
Joel pulls the sleeping bag further up as you nestle into his arms. As you huddle inside, you can feel the plush, ragged interior cushioning your bodies, moulding to your contours like a second skin.
The sleeping bag is large enough to accommodate you both, yet intimate enough to foster a sense of closeness as you lay side-by-side.
“So beautiful,” you say.
“Yeah, you are.” Joel remarks and you turn to see his eyes watching you and not the sky. Face illuminated in a green glow, lost in how your curious orbs reflect the ethereal beauty above.
The pull of need floods your body, tingles pitching down your spine as he loses himself inside your eyes.
“Kiss me, Joel,” you murmur to him, nose pressed against his as you pull him by his collar to your face. His lips pursed, they find yours - cold and chapped as they graze.
A warm tongue slips inside, sucking gently as he explores; tiny, soft nips felt peppered across your lip.
You already feel warmer, the prickles of the heat blooming under your armpits and on the back of your neck. His cool fingers stroke you there, engulfing your mouth with a growing need of his own as he crushes you closer to him.
You find his skin under the layers; stroking at the softness of his belly that overhangs his jeans a little more now, as he gasps into your mouth at the intrusion of cold fingers. Traversing gently over the welts of scars where the texture changes underneath your tips.
You can feel his fingers within the depths of the sleeping bag fumbling at your button, tugging at your jeans clumsily with deep pants before he gives up and just slides his hand in when the zipper won’t give.
You whine into his mouth as he finds your clit, rubbing with the thick pad of his middle finger against it.
Your hands do the same, releasing him from his scuffed denim, warm and heavy. Breaking your kiss to spit into your palm, he hisses into your mouth as you stroke him; succulently wet around his thick cock, weeping as you pump.
You fist at his collar, face buried into the plush heat of the crook of his neck. He grunts as your teeth dig into golden, weathered skin, muting your gasps from the pulsing between your legs as he strokes and taps; the heat begins to engulf you inside the sleeping bag.
He growls as you bite harder, nudging your face with his so he can kiss you again, his own teeth gnawing at your lips as he pants harder now.
Hard and pulsing in your palm, his whines upping their tempo as he closes in on that moment when he’ll dissipate.
“Come-” he wheezes, words barely audible as he breathes. “-M’gonna come,” choking breaths get tangled in his throat.
Eyelashes fluttering agasint your skin, breathes seeping into your mouth, his grip on you tightens as his back stiffens and hips thrusts his cock further into your hand.
“Fu-fuck,” he jolts, spilling into your palm, warm and thick.
Joel trembles, body shaking as he empties, face pushing against yours as he breathes out in satisfaction, a small bewildered snicker in confoundment as you nuzzle against him.
“You kill me, darlin’.” He whispers, breath warm on your lips and chin as you wipe him away on your scarf.
He moves his fingers still inside your jeans, stroking over the swell of nerves. Your grip around his wrist keeps him there, feeling him dip his middle just inside your hole as you contract, thumb smoothing over the oil-slick bead of your clit.
“Joel!” You gasp, tonguing the sparse tracks of sweat-salt hairs grazing down the side of his throat.
His finger slides right into the hilt, palm up and stroking deeply; thumb still pushing on your clit. Your nails cut into his wrist, pulling him against you as you subtly grind.
The hooked end of his nose notches against yours as you whimper.
Gentle, broken commands lose their endings as he loses his breath. “Give it,” and “want,” snuffling out of him as he strokes faster on your wet, fleshy spot.
Your body shakes as you come; his finger sopping as you clench and rib around it, knees jerking against his as you float in the lights, bathed in fuschia and jade strobes.
He stops stroking as you kiss him. Tiny, soft pinpricks of his moustache tickle your lip, making the insides of your cheeks tingle. Coarser, wiry greys prominent in the fading roots, mingling with the softer ones that still reside.
You run your fingers through patchy, bare spaces, smooth and free of any growth. You make patterns in them, trace their random shapes with your tips; an oval here, a heart there.
You both turn and look up at the sky together. The display falling into your eyes in that glow of emerald and pink as the Aurora shows off for an entrancing encore.
The heat envelops you both as you snuggle in together, his arm draped around you and your head resting on the muscled pillow of his shoulder.
You press a soft kiss under his jaw, of which he grunts with throaty appreciation. Your eyes continue to roam the falling curtains of colour in sky.
“Is it everything ya ever hoped for?” Joel questions gently, voice rolling around that familiar grizzle as he tucks you in closer to his side.
“Freezing my ass off in the middle of the forest with you?”
He chuckles with a wheeze. “Yeah.”
“It’s everything.” You smile.
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I hope you enjoyed watching the Northern Lights with Joel. He gives the best snuggles, right? Would love to know your thoughts and if you enjoyed it, I'd appreciate a re-blog so others can enjoy it too. Thankies 🖤
MAIN MASTERLIST | JOEL MILLER MASTERLIST
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3lostyears · 4 months
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timepetals thoughts i keep having:
i know that the assumption is “she is my s-” means soulmate but i always think he just thinks of rose as his soul. less that she completes him or is his other half and more that she just is his conscience and any goodness he may have is hers. he was born out of love for her, she is such an integral part of him, she is his soul itself.
i know everyone has taken permanent damage from the “how long are you going to stay with me” and why the general focus is on the doctor’s reaction but the way rose says forever gets to me. she’s not giddy or girlish when she says it, in some ways she almost sounds resigned to it, which has wonderfully angsty connotations in the timeline of s2. but it’s why it really works for me, she is so dead serious and committed when she says it, because she understands everything it means (and therefore part of her feels solemn about it). it has a lot of weight to it. even the first time donna says she’s going to travel with the doctor forever to martha at the end of the doctor’s daughter she sounds a lot more fanciful.
every time i hear the doctor scream when rose loses her grip in doomsday i just think that he would absolutely not have survived her actually being sucked into the void.
i always think the vocals in doomsday are similar to the doctor’s theme so to me the angry rock music is rose’s side and the vocals are his, rather than the howling wolf idea i’ve heard some people compare it to. how the doctor’s theme is lonely and mournful with its sparse instruments but calm, everything the ninth doctor was, while doomsday is heartbroken and angry and an entire orchestra because it’s two people overcome with grief together. how doomsday becomes such a motif for both characters individually, even when they're separated.
i still struggle to comprehend that the doctor wearing floral ties in s3 is canon and NOT a fanfic trope like you're telling the doctor said "i need a floral motif as close to my two hearts as possible" and you're describing him as something other than a grieving widower???
the doctor really could not go anywhere in s3 without running into some kind of couple but i never see people talk about the parallels in 42. “we chose this ship together / he keeps me honest so i don’t want false hope” and the way the doctor literally gives mcdonnell his condolences through gritted teeth?? the fact that she would rather die with korwin than be without him and have it be her fault
that the doctor, king of self-loathing, saw rose dressed as his ninth self and carrying a giant weapon and he not only RAN to her but then deliberately protected her from the trauma of seeing him change again. and then tentoo immediately picks a blue suit to be like now i’m matchey matchey with rose 🥰 the universe was ending and he’d seen rose again for two actual minutes but the doctor was so utterly focused on her.
how tentoo truly is rose's doctor, especially as he's got that little bit of nine in him. he's born out of the same love and protection of his previous incarnations but he loses a heart and the curse of the timelords and goes oh, this is rose's heart. and then he wears the blue mourning suit and yes, there is still mourning, but there is also the start of the rest of their lives together.
how the doctor’s hair most noticeably changed after school reunion to become spikier and less boyish. how that coincides with him using mickey to put distance between himself and rose now that he’s been reminded of rose’s mortality.
how wild the doctor and jack’s conversation in utopia is. the way the doctor says “rose” like it’s an entire explanation in itself because even before she absorbed the time vortex she fundamentally changed the life of everyone she met. the way he says “everything she did was so human” and the way he accepts jack’s sorry to him because there’s no trying to deny his feelings from jack, not when he saw his ninth self. the way jack has BARELY finished his sentence about watching rose grow up when the doctor casually asks him if he wants to die, the almost playful way he says it. one semi suicidal immortal who spent half of the season trying to get himself killed to another, both of them still kind of toying with the idea. both of them trying to have hope even though they've lost so much.
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0v3rcast · 10 months
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Gnaw: Grudge Match
For the first time, the Archon War and its ending are subject to a second opinion.
(And that opinion is yours.)
Osial banks across the stormy sky, feathers of his right wing dipping into the clouds above, water and wind forming beads against his wingtips that follow him as he dips back down. You lend him your energy, and Electro arcs across the vast plumage of his wings and pools inside the beads.
He flaps his wing. A single storm bead rockets down from the sky.
Fishing boats and trading ships are reduced to soaked splinters and fractured metal. The remains of sails, now naught but tatters, writhe in the wind before falling into the sea.
Those who do not die from the sheer enormity of the impact drown in the harbor, bleed out from shrapnel of their own ships, or meet their end at the hands of your contributed Electro energy.
Within fifteen seconds, the harbor has been reduced to a graveyard, the ruined husks of an entire fleet now skeletons lying in deathless slumber on the seabed.
Osial laughs, wild and untamed, just this side of lost to mania, and he dives, his wings glimmering with Anemo.
The Golden House didn't really stand much of a chance.
Electrically-charged Mora are funneled en masse into the vortex above, glinting gold with lightning tails flowing up into the sky in chaotic patterns. Some magnetize against each other, some fly alone, others ricochet into the sea or embed themselves into the land.
Several unlucky souls are punched cleanly through by the symbol of their nation's prosperity, leaving gaping holes in their flesh and ruined bones.
Their screams, warped by the wind and rain and the song of thunder, are a beautiful chorus to you. A performance to welcome you home and give warning to those who foolishly stand against you.
Thunder roars, deafening, and lightning falls, piercing Millelith members. Rain weighs them down, wind steals their breath, and the wind chill robs even the most hale and hearty of a steady aim.
Osial flicks out another storm bead. Several buildings are blasted apart, their rubble crushing their neighbors, metal and stone and wood making a cacophony of ruin.
Entire lives are being uprooted. Centuries of tradition are vanishing under the onslaught. The work of thousands of human lives simply vanishes as it topples into the bay, the waves hungrily lapping at the base of the city and greedily swallowing all that cannot escape.
A small smile stretches over your face.
They deserve this.
With a flick of your wrist, the remaining Mora cluster together into a single massive ball, and you will it towards the wreckage of the city with a little mental exertion.
It crashes down into the heart of the city, right where Rex Lapis once died, and it then erupts as all the force keeping it together simply ceases to do so.
Golden coins and human gore scatter in every direction as fleeing civilians are reduced to mulch by this world's most ostentatious fragmentation explosive.
Osial howls in glee, currents of vicious wind tearing humans from the streets and into his waiting maw as he dives again and again.
In the distance, there is a roar.
The earth shakes to its foundations as immense stone pillars rip free, aimed for Osial, their normally flat tops ground to geometrically perfect diamond spearpoints.
"Morax," Osial sneers. "Come to watch your miserable excuse for a city die under my wings?"
The being that appears then is not Zhongli, or even Rex Lapis. It is Morax. An ancient dragon, Archon of Geo. The God of Contracts and War. This is no simple serpent, no puppet meant to be majestic and awe-inspiring - this is the war-form. The true face of a draconic god, plated in metals hewn from the heart of the world, innards glowing with yellow-orange energy.
This Morax is the face of death.
Morax roars in wordless fury at his old foe... but then his eyes catch sight of you.
The roar becomes deafening, full of such hatred and vitriol that Osial briefly forgets to fly from surprise, leading him to dive instead.
On some cruel instinct, you give Morax the smuggest, most shit-eating grin you can conjure, and you mouth 'where were you when they needed you?'
If looks could kill, Morax would have just reduced you to subatomic particles.
You gesture to Osial, your gift helping to subtly translate, and he launches up into the storm and the highest points of the atmosphere.
Morax follows, howling threats in a language you don't know.
(The elements lean forward in their seats. You've just invited them to the best fight this eon. Bets are already being made. Geo and Anemo both grin at the other, eager to see whose champion is superior.)
Meteors fall, carved apart by wind.
Voices carry for thousands of miles, roaring in pain and glee and fury.
Bones shatter, scales are torn apart, wounds ooze blood in quantities enough to bathe Liyue in a red rain... and Gods war.
On the ground, the storm has only increased in strength, now that so much more energy is being poured into the area.
Not helping is the hail of immense stone pieces.
Where godly blood lands, life is burnt away by the acidic touch of divinity.
Those who did not flee before can flee no longer without risking swift, painful death.
(Ganyu weeps, the work of thousands of years falling apart in less than five hours. What use were her labors?)
(Ningguang vanishes into a bunker beneath the stone, where she can wait out this chaos. She will build herself back up. This is simply a setback.)
(Hu Tao watches from a distant field as her home is utterly destroyed.
...some morbid little part of her gleefully remarks that business is about to be skyrocketing.)
(Shenhe is unaware of this happening, having been spirited away into Cloud Retainer's realm the moment said Adeptus realized just who had been given a burial at sea.)
(Yanfei is luckily out of the country right now, instead in Fontaine to deal with a reappearing case she'd long thought solved.)
(Xinyan assists in evacuation efforts, her flames burning away godsblood and rain to shelter those nearby.)
(Chongyun and Xingqiu barely manage to stem the tide of raging Hilichurls that are dead set on killing the escaping civilians.)
(Kequing lies in the collapsed rubble of a multi-story building, her Vision repeatedly shocking her as Electro takes the moment to be immensely petty.)
(Xiao drowns in his Karmic Debt, feathers trying to force their way through his skin as his more animalistic instincts refuse to obey.)
(Baizhu has already fled, knowing that he neither can be nor wishes to be of use in this fight. His work is not yet done.)
(Yaoyao stands guard over the population who have made it to her home village.)
(Yun Jin helps to gather scattered families back together amongst the crowds of refugees. Xiangling and her father work to feed the masses while they are all displaced.)
(Beidou watches the storm from the far horizon on the deck of the Alcor. Going in would be suicide, but not helping is just as unthinkable. She must choose, but the sheer weight of the choice is paralyzing. The fleet follows behind her, whether that is into certain death or into retreat.)
(Qiqi stands in the heaviest torrents of the storm. Where the blood of gods stains her skin, life is breathed back into dead flesh.))
Far above in the heavens, Osial and Zhongli are tangled, claws gouging into the new Anemo Archon's innards as coils attempt to shatter the Geo Archon's ancient spine.
There is a deafening crack as Morax's spine bends in a way it was never supposed to.
Ribbons of intestine hang from the massive wound in Osial's underbelly.
Both of them begin to fall to the face of Teyvat tens of thousands of miles below, and you are along for the ride.
Osial lets out a wheezy cackle as he tightens his grip on Morax, drowning in his own blood.
Morax writhes, wings unresponsive.
You hug yourself against Osial. Impact comes far sooner than you expected.
There is darkness.
When you wake, you are in the shallows of an immense crater, exactly where Liyue Harbor should have been. The moon glows pale white above you.
Shattered pillars and ruined buildings jut from the not-quite-bay.
Sitting next to you is a not-very-undead Qiqi. She gives you a relieved look when she sees you're alive. You offer her a thumbs up, as though that will solve the issue.
She accepts it with as much grace as anyone in her situation can and returns the thumbs up, smiling at you faintly.
Beneath you is Osial, dying from mortal wounds but still very alive. Somewhere in the distance is a similarly wounded Morax.
You climb down from your dying companion and come to face him.
"Ah... good. You still live. I did not fail you," Osial gurgles. "Thank you... for helping me settle the score, my maker."
You tell him to hold on. You're sure there's something you can do to heal him. He lets out an amused huff.
"Your kindness is touching, but I know my end is coming. I can feel the Abyss."
You refuse. Osial is yours, damn it. Your friend. Your first Archon. Your protector.
A feeling wells up inside of you.
He will not die. You won't allow it.
Your eyes burn as tears stream down your face. You rest a hand against his scaly face, and ask him to trust you one more time.
"Of course. Always."
You let your power flow. The world erupts into starlight as a new constellation is born, sky adorned with a new pattern of stars: Serpens Fidelis.
The loyal serpent.
Where once laid your dying companion is now a male of mortal human size, who sits up, obviously quite discombobulated. He manages to find his feet, though repeatedly stumbles as he takes his first steps.
Scarred tan skin faintly reflects the moonlight, bathing him in an ethereal glow. Silver locks of hair with deep blue accents seem to drink in the moonlight.
He turns to you, finally, and grins, canine teeth closer to fangs than human, Cherenkov blue eyes glimmering with undeniable joy.
"Thank you, my maker. This new form is far less damaged."
From his right hip dangles a Hydro vision. The Anemo Gnosis is in your hands instead. It appears the cost for his life was you reclaiming the archonhood you bestowed upon him.
He is otherwise entirely nude and doesn't particularly seem to notice this. Maybe that's because he's never had to wear clothes before.
You kindly point this out to him, more than a little embarrassed on his behalf, your hands over Qiqi's eyes so she doesn't see.
Holy shit, was he always that built?
He grins at you, shooting you a salacious wink. "Yes, yes. Get an eyeful of my statuesque physique. I worked for many years on it."
You ask how he managed that as best you can while dying of embarrassment.
"You become quite proficient at lifting weights and swimming at the same time while trying to struggle free of stone javelins pinning you to the seafloor," he says mildly.
He manipulates the water and stormclouds into a set of luxurious robes. A sash at his waist now holds the Hydro vision.
On his back rests a fragment of the Jade Chamber carved into a massive greatsword.
"Shall we gloat over our dying adversary together, my maker?"
Yes, this sounds like a phenomenal idea.
You let Qiqi go, now that Osial is not running a one-hydra nudist colony, and she follows behind the two of you like a lost puppy.
Morax has returned to the form of Zhongli by the time you get to him.
The Vortex Vanquisher lies shattered at his side, and hundreds of rips and tears in his clothes display his grievous wounds.
Osial confidently struts over.
"Why hello, hated enemy mine~"
Zhongli weakly snarls up at him, and also at you, his fists curling feebly at his sides.
"Damn you both. May the Creator strike you both down into the depths of the Abyss."
Osial lets out a small 'snrk', begins to lowly chuckle, and slowly escalates to peals of howling, gleeful laughter. Zhongli just looks offended while Osial laughs himself nearly sick.
"By the maker, you have no idea who you're talking to right now, do you?" He wheezes, tears in his eyes, clutching at his sides.
"The destroyer of my people and an abomination wearing the skin of the Creator of All." Zhongli fires back, indignant. "Are you blind?"
"Go ahead and pray for our maker to save you. See what happens," Osial says, grinning cruelly.
Zhongli murmurs a prayer for protection from evil.
A faint glimmer of magical energy escapes his lips and swirls just above your hands. You cringe at it and wave it away like it's smoke.
Zhongli goes ghost-white, his eyes becoming impossibly wide.
"Creator?"
Tears bead at the corners of his eyes as his actions finally begin to play back in his mind.
"Please, my maker, forgive m-"
Osial cuts off his head.
"What an asshole," he snickers, some blood now on his cheek, a massive grin on his face. "I'm glad he's dead."
You just look at him like he's crazy. Which he probably is.
"Oooooooooohhhh, that's who you are." Qiqi says from behind you, having caught on to your true identity.
Another massive hydra erupts from the ocean in the distance and lets out a sound akin to whalesong.
"HI, HONEY!" Osial yells in her direction before immediately bolting towards her.
You let out a distressed sigh. Exactly what kind of mess have you just gotten into?
(Taglist:
@the-dumber-scaramouche @thatdeadaquarius @ssak-i @imyme20 @fried-lotud @acacla @itz-luna @iruiji @crierofirony @itsredactedlove @sweetsthetik @leafanonsforest @oxyotl @kkazuyass @featuredtofu @resident-cryptid @d4y-dr3am3r @crimson-ashes @red1sg0n3 @the-real-fandom-person @code-roevember @yourlocalsourwolf @rhoswen-drake @minimari415 @reversearrowhead @call-me-shroom @evqnescents @valeriele3 @mochicurls21 @sinnful-darling @fleshdotmp4 @ash1 @chilling-on-the-moon @fluffy-koalala @extremelytoastybread @euphoricaldemise
This should probably be all of you.))
451 notes · View notes
ereana · 5 months
Text
Neuvillette x Furina - I’d come for you. No matter what, when you need me, I will be there.
The news hits Fontaine like a drop of rain across a still pond.
Furina is gone.
It ripples out from the point of impact in waves.
Furina is missing.
It provides only a second of warning, enough time for people to look up and wonder, before the rest of the rain falls.
Furina has been kidnapped.
The sudden deluge appears from nowhere, pedestrians quickly flee for shelter and vainly attempt to shield themselves from the heavy drops of rain that pelt the land below as if in punishment. In his manmade lair of marble and glass the Hydro Sovereign feels five hundred years of control snap.
Had Focalors known what she was doing when she returned his power? Had she known what it would unlock inside him? Emotions, once dull and frustratingly out of reach, now howl in his breast. Neuvillette snarls and feels fangs in his mouth. There is no hiding from the vortex of rage and fear that consumes him, he embraces it.
He has to find her. He must find her. He needs to see her stand before him unharmed and unfazed, smiling excitedly as she talks about the new dish she is attempting to master.
The fools who have done this do not know what they have unleashed, what now hunts them with unwavering focus. People uneasily watch from the sides of the great lake as its waters swell and churn, mirroring the mood of the enraged dragon.
If Furina has been hurt they will wish the prophecy had taken them.
Messages are sent out, officers are given tasks, and Neuvillette clamps down on the growing need to walk out the Palais doors and start hunting by himself. Patience, he reminds himself. He needs more information, the sort that only comes from human networks and investigation. 
Clorinde eyes him with uncertainty as she reports back, seeing the promise of savagery that lurks beneath his human guise. Neuvillette does not try to hide it. His claws scrape across the grand wooden desk of his office as she tells him of the group of rogue scientists from the Fontaine Research Institute who had sought to experiment with Primordial Sea water. Their proposals had been soundly rejected by the Institute so they had left to look for other opportunities and had come across the news of the only Hydro vision bearer who could control the dangerous substance.
Clorinde does not look away as she relays this to him nor does she flinch when the arm of his chair splinters under the force of his grip. There is a satisfied tightness in her eyes as she stands before him having just condemned these men to death.
Neuvillette enters their hideout alone.
He ignores the concerns from the Melusines and the Gardes. It is misplaced. He does not bring them with him not because he doubts their abilities, but because he will not be able to ensure their safety once he steps foot inside the wretched hole in the ground. His power simmers in his veins ready to be called upon, to obliterate anyone who has dared lay a hand on Furina, and he cannot guarantee that any assistance would be caught in the crossfire.
This is where they have kept her? A rotting network of pipes and caves that reeks of chemicals which sting his nose.
Unforgivable.
The first sinner kidnapper that he sees dies without uttering a word, merely gargles as water in the air starts to condense rapidly in his mouth and lungs.
This is no trial. No arguments. No evidence.
They have dared to put their hands on Furina; the woman who holds the heart of the Hydro dragon in her hands, the woman who could command him to drown a thousand nations for her and he would do so gladly, the woman who never would because kindness is an intrinsic part of her very soul.
Everyone in this pathetic shelter has already received their final judgment and all that remains is for Neuvillette to carry out the sentence.
Corridor after corridor passes in a blur of yells and the crushing force of his power. With each step his panic rises. Not here. Not here. He hasn’t found her yet. She isn’t safe.
What if-
He rounds a corner and is met with the most beautiful pair of mismatched eyes looking at him from behind the raised hilt of a sword. The fight leaves him instantly and he almost staggers towards her.
Furina lowers her blade at the sight of him. Her familiars float around her, searching left and right for enemies, Mademoiselle Crabaletta snaps a claw in his direction. 
“Neuvillette? How did you….What are you…” She stutters, before her eyes widen. “Is that blood?! Are you alright?” She steps closer to him, hands waving wildly as she frets over the red splotch on his coat. Normally he would listen intently to her every word but not at this moment. Not when a wave of relief crashes over him with the force of a tsunami.
She is here.
She is alive.
He sees the tear in her coat and shirt, the telltale bruises around her wrists that could only have come from chains, and part of him wants to continue through the base and rip apart the ones responsible. The rest of him doesn’t want to leave her side.
“Are you listening to me?” Furina asks, waving a hand in front of his unblinking eyes. “I think I made it about halfway up before they noticed I escaped and I think one of them raised the alarm. I mean I didn’t expect you to come but we should-”
“Why?” Neuvillette asks hoarsely. “Why did you not think I would come for you?”
Furina startles at the interruption, before dropping her gaze to the floor. Her body language shifts from a battle ready stance to something smaller, weaker. It conjures fresh memories of a fateful trial and a broken woman sitting silently on her throne.
“W-Well, I-I mean you’re so busy with running Fontaine and I-I’m nobody important anymore, just a civilian. I know we’re friends but I know you have other priorities.”
Neuvillette listens to her and hears what remains unsaid.
And the last time I needed you, you left me alone.
He falls to his knees before her.
He doesn’t reach out to hold her like he so desperately wants to, not until she allows him to.
“I’d come for you.” He swears to her. “No matter what, when you need me, I will be there.” 
Furina freezes, her hands momentarily still in their fluttering before she clutches them to her chest. She looks at him with equal parts trepidation and hope, five hundred years working together and she’s never heard him speak so ardently.
His oath echoes in the room around them and outside the world itself seems to hold its breath.
She lets out a shaky breath, sniffs once. Twice.
And then she pulls him into a crushing hug as she starts to cry into his shoulder.
Neuvillette returns the embrace immediately, careful not to hold her too tightly lest he inflict more pain than he already has, and lets his goddess find the comfort she needs in his arms.
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anami-io · 1 year
Text
There's no need to exchange pleasantries.
ღ Scaramouche/Wanderer x F! reader.
Note: A scenario in which you and scara/wanderer/Kunikuzushi head up the mountain to thaw the ice. (I know aether or lumine does it but let's just pretend it was you guys for the time being!) You also happen to run into some old friends along the way. Some jealousy rouses in scara, which causes him to realize his feelings toward you. See what else happens as you read loves! :3 
PS: I listened to the album for dragonspine - Vortex of legends while writing this!
Warnings: Mentions of you getting sick. Slight swearing. 
Word count : 3,966
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You have to admit. heading up the freezing mountain in Dragonspine wasn’t entirely what you’d expected it to be, for starters. You didn’t expect yourself to love the scenery as much as you did before you arrived. The hike was indeed a bit challenging. A few treasure hoarders stopped you in your tracks as you both made your way toward the next huge pieces of ice that you guys needed to thaw. Not to mention some fatui agents had also tried to stop you as well. There was a bit of an awkward silence that sat between you two as you continued your way up Dragonspine. You however were just a bit annoyed, as you recall your earlier attempt of trying to spark up a conversation. 
From Kuni’s perspective, he sighed as the strap on his hat flew against his face, making him raise his arm to move it away. The wind began to howl in your faces, he sighed once more and glanced over in your direction. You squinted and continued forward, your scarf covering your mouth.  Walking up to one of the torches that were lit up near the path. You placed your gloved hands out and sighed for a moment. A certain feeling began to build up inside Kuni as he glanced toward your face. The small glow of the fire illuminated your face in the cloudy atmosphere. He glared a tiny bit. You were talking non-stop before and after you left Sumeru city. Even your journeys after. What happened now? 
“Why are you so quiet?” He asks with a hint of annoyance.
You glanced up at him surprisingly as he said this. Only for a moment, as you stood up straight, your scarf stooping below your chin. You thought for a moment before a smug look was then plastered onto your face. 
“I thought there was no need to exchange pleasantries.” You gave him a small smirk. His eyes widened before he scoffed and turned on his heel. You didn’t see the embarrassment on his face.. 
“Moron,” he mumbles
“I forgot that humans get cold,” Kuni spoke as he then continued his way, taking the lead this time. 
“Wait for me!” you said as you ran after him. He took a turn into some type of cavern. You saw the elemental monuments and took a step forward before you stopped and saw two Ruin Guards who were currently sitting on the ground.  
“Shit.” You whispered.
“I don’t think that they’re powered. Think about it, they would have already gotten up.” Kuni speaks, his back against yours. 
“Yeah but I bet they’ll power up when we finish this puzzle.”
“You said you needed to finish this commission though. We can take them unless you're too weak, I can do it myself.” He smirked 
“Ugh I'm not weak you ass, you’re right about me needing to finish this commission though.” You groaned 
 It took a good few minutes but you got the puzzle done. Your theory had been correct about both Ruin Guards turning on after the puzzle had been finished. Both Ruin Guards indeed stood up, and a strong gust of wind and snow began blowing around you both. Kuni and you both made swift work of taking care of both of them. You let out an exhale when suddenly a huge Ruin Grader crossed your path in front of you. Your breath hitched as you summoned your weapon. 
“You’re fucking joking,” you stated making Kuni hold out a hand in front of you. Standing in front of you as he then rose into the air quickly taking care of the annoying machine. 
“Thanks,” you sighed as you exhaled softly before pausing and sneezing softly. 
“Let's head up.” you finished. Kuni glanced up at the sky for a moment seeing that the once bright sky was now dark and cloudy.
“I think we should find somewhere to stay for the night and get some rest,” he states 
“Why are you tired?” you ask in confusion, it’s hard to believe that he could ever be tired. You thought to yourself.
“It’s not for me,” he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.
 “Then?” 
“Are you seriously this dense?” he asks 
“Rude I understand now, I’m fine, let's keep moving.” You started as you made your way back down the path. After fighting a few hilichurls, samachurls, and mitachurls. You finally made your way to a tiny cliff with a clearing. You began to feel a bit weird, tired actually. Panting as you made your way forward. 
“[Name], I’m not kidding anymore let’s head to mondstat and find an inn or-”
“Kuni, I said I’m fine-” you stopped as you felt dizzy, your vision blurring. You heard a ringing noise in your ears whilst also hearing shouting and growling. Your gaze made its way toward a white and blue blur to your left. A Frostarm lawachurl growled and pounded its hands on its chest, getting ready to attack. Your vision began to fade into the abyss as you felt yourself being yanked backward and a blur of blonde and white before the world fell into complete darkness. 
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Waking up to see a blur of red made you groan softly. You began to slowly sit up before you were pushed back down softly. 
“What the hell are you doing, lay back down.” you heard Kuni’s familiar voice. You slowly regained your vision after blinking a few times.
“What happened?” you asked groggily.
“You fainted because you were beginning to catch a cold, now it’s worse,” he stated before moving the covers above your shoulders. His hand grazed past your cheek making your heart jump for a moment. He then looked straight toward you for a moment.
“Shit, you’re burning up again damn it!” He states he sighs before turning and walking toward another part of the room. It was then that you took a look at your surroundings that you realized you were at an inn in mondstat. 
“Drink, now.” he held a cup toward you. 
“Okay mom.” you joked, making him glare at you for a moment.
You tipped the cup to your lips before tasting the bitterness of what you assumed was medicine. Sucking it up, you finished it before letting Kuni take the cup from you. You sighed and laid back down before resting your eyes once more. 
“Don’t ever do that shit again.” you heard Kuni’s soft low voice reach your ears making you snap your eyes back open. 
“What?” you asked, he snapped his gaze back toward you with wide eyes. 
There was an awkward silence for a few moments as you two stared at each other before he scoffed and got up. He then said something that you couldn’t make out.
“Nothing. I have to go and get something. I’ll be back, go to sleep.” He states without looking back before walking out the door and closing it behind him. 
“Well okay.” you frown as you think back to the look on his face.
Was that..Fear? Sadness? 
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You heard a knock at the door and slowly woke up from your sleep and slowly sat up. 
“Come in,” you stated, throat a little dry. 
That’s when a familiar girl dressed in red walked in. 
“[Name]!” Amber stated as she made her way over to your side of the bed. She reached her arms out and gave you a gentle squeeze.
“You’re okay.” She smiles as she pulls away.
“Amber, it's so good to see you! I missed you!” You smiled before you both began to catch up a tiny bit on things.
“Who is that boy that's been here with you?” she asked as she gave a tiny smug look.
“He’s my travel partner and friend. I call him Kuni.” You held your hands up. 
“Mhm, I see. You know when he and albedo brought you in, he looked so scared. Yelling for us to make sure that nothing happens to you or else. He was pretty scary himself.” Amber gives you a cute eye-closed smile while laughing nervously and scratching the back of her head. 
“Really?” You asked as you then pictured the scene in your head. Your face began to heat up. 
“Yeah well, anyway I brought you this!” Amber smiled as she held out a tiny red pin that resembled the cute bunny ears on her head. 
“I’ve been meaning to send you a letter or find you because I’ve missed you, but you’re always traveling so it was kinda hard ha.” She said sweetly. You glanced down at the small cute gift. Tearing up a tiny bit at how sweet Amber could be. 
“Thank you Amber I love it!” You smile and wrap your arms around her. After pulling away you smile and turn to glance around the room.
“Was Kuni in here or?” You asked 
“Last thing he said was that he needed to get you more medicine, that he was heading to liyue. For now he wanted you to rest so just try to take it easy. Oh! I brought you a book from the library, Here!” 
She reached into her pouch that hung from her belt and pulled out a small book, handing it over to you. 
“I know that you liked these type of books so I picked one up for you since you were practically asleep for a day already-”
“A DAY?!” You thought it was just a nap.
“Hey hey relax! You were really tired and sick! Kuni? Was it? He’s the one who’d been taking care of you all day yesterday and ever since you were brought here into the inn.”
You turned your gaze to glance worriedly out the window, guilt eating your insides. You couldn’t exactly understand why you felt this way. You did know that you deeply care for Kunikuzushi AKA Scaramouche. Ever since you had run into Aether and decided to travel along the famous traveler for a few journeys. You were there the day that those mysterious meteors had appeared, meeting him changed you. From the very moment that you met him, you saw right through him.You recall the night that you had spent camping out near the meteor occurrence. 
You glanced at the dark night sky to see another meteor flying into the ground from afar. Running off toward the sight, your body ached a bit due to being tired. Coming to a halt, the air around you made you feel light headed. It was then that you realized you weren’t alone, over toward the left far side of the crash to see that mysterious boy from earlier. His eyes were closed as if he seemed to be remembering something. It looked like it pained him, the frown on his face was clearly evident that this boy had been through a lot in his past. His eyes snapped open, his gaze flicking toward you. 
“You again.” He grumbled, he then wiped that frown off his face. 
“Where are your f-”
“You’ve been hurt before.” Lips moved without thinking.
His eyes widened, he looked purely surprised to hear you say this.
How could this strange mortal know anything? I can tell that she is being sincere.
Her eyes.
Her expression.
“I’m sorry..” she muttered.
“Nevermind that, It was nice running into you again but I have to go.”  He turned and took off. 
“[Name]?” you heard Aether call out making you turn.
“You can’t just leave like that, you scared me..” Aether trails off, his eyes held fear and worry. Looking as if he was on the verge of tearing up. Your eyes flashed with guilt.
“I know I’m sorry.” You reached out and gripped his shoulders in reassurance. Giving a soft smile before turning to glance in the direction of where that boy had gone, only to see that he had already disappeared. Or so, you thought.
From the top of the cliff above you, his eyes lingered on you as the blonde haired traveler guided you back to your campsite. 
“You’ve been hurt before.”
He watched as you tried looking for him but never spoke of him. Scoffing as he turned and made his way back.
Back to the present
It was already evening in Mondstat, the sun beginning to set and he still wasn’t back yet. 
Where was he?
 You do understand that Liyue isn’t exactly close but still. Archons, you already finished your book Amber had given you. You sat up and pulled the blankets off of you, Getting dressed into your usual gear and outfit. You opened the door to your room and stepped out, making your way toward the exit. Stepping out into the city of freedom, the wind blew softly against your face, and through your hair. Gazing toward the sky and your mind immediately thought of Venti. 
Strolling through the courtyard and making your way toward the Knights of Favonious headquarters. Entering the building made you feel nostalgic as memories of you and the traveler meeting everyone flashed through your mind. Your lips tugged into a smile, beginning to miss him a tiny bit wondering how Aether was doing.
You walked through the doors of the library, and made your way down the staircase, toward the section of your choice. That’s when you heard a familiar high pitched voice coming from another section. You immediately walked toward where you heard Paimons babbling and met face to face with Aether,Albedo,and Paimon. 
“[Name]! What are you doing here?!” Paimon exclaimed in disbelief.
“Yes I was just about to ask you the same question.”
“I see you’re doing better after the attack, I’m glad you’re well, though you really shouldn’t be out of bed and should be resting, how are you feeling?” Albedo’s voice reached your ears.
“Yeah about that-”
“An attack? What happened, are you okay?” Aether asks 
“I’m fine honestly, Me and Kuni were just trying to finish a commission and it was in dragonspine so I caught a cold and almost got attacked by a Frostarm Lawachurl.”
“I was able to deflect the attack and saved her while her partner pulled her out of the way when she fainted. I managed to take out the Lawachurl with one blow, but after that He kept threatening to kill me if I got too close. He seemed very wary of me and didn’t trust me one bit. It took a bit of explaining but we got her to my lab and got her a potion. Brought her to Mondstat where we took her to the infirmary. He threatened me and Amber telling us that we’d better make sure nothing happens to her or else. After she was treated, he took her to the  inn.” Albedo explained, you sighed when he mentioned how Kuni threatened to kill him.
Aethers arms caught you off guard as he gave you a tight hug.
“I’m so glad you’re okay.” He whispered, making you smile softly and return his hug.
“I was just thinking about you when I walked in, I missed you.” 
“I missed you too, it’s so nice to see you again-”
“Hey don’t forget Paimon! Paimon missed you too!” you laughed.
“Has your temperature risen at all since then? Shall I prepare some potions?” Albedo places his gloved fingers along your cheekbone. 
“[Name]!” you heard a familiar voice making you pull away from Aether.
You turned and felt your hand get tugged toward Kuni.
“You’re supposed to be resting, you’re still getting over your cold idiot!” He speaks
“Kuni,”
“Traveler,” There was a brief moment of silence before Kuni pulled your hand again.
“Sorry to cut this reunion short but she needs to be in bed right now.”
“I’m fine!”
Kuni softly smacks his hand against your forehead making you glare at him.
“Your fever is coming back moron, I told you to rest,” He turned toward the traveler and Albedo for a moment.
“Excuse me but I’ll be taking her back with me.” He finished as he began dragging you back to the inn.
“I’ll talk to you soon Aether!” You said softly and he glanced at Kuni and you surprisedly before returning your smile and a wave. 
As you both made your way back toward your room at the inn, he closed the door behind you and pushed you toward the bed. He turned his back toward you and picked up a box that laid on the dresser. He opened it and took a bottle out pouring the substance into a cup. Turning toward you he pushed you to lay back before handing you the cup. 
“Drink it, then go to sleep.” He watched as you took the bitter medicine in before laying down. He walked toward the door and walked out into the living room. You sighed and closed your eyes. Soon enough you fell asleep. 
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“No! Wait please! Anything but the Gnosis! That’s mine, don’t even try!” 
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“[Name]?” Aether called out to you.
“It doesn’t feel like a victory..” You whispered before turning away from the former harbinger. Seeing the pain in his face and hearing it in his voice made you unable to stay any longer.
You sat up with a gasp, tears wanting to prick at your eyes. Those were memories that you hated to remember, due to the way they made you feel. Yet no matter how hard you try to push them back, they continue to eat at your mind. No luck with falling asleep now. Your mind wandered to Kuni. The hurt he must’ve felt. You couldn’t take it anymore. 
“Kuni?” You call out a bit loudly. 
After a moment you hear some movement and shuffling, before the door opens and Kuni pops in. 
“What?” He asks with a small glare.
“I can’t sleep-“
“No you can’t get up, just close your eyes.” He said as he was about to close the door.
“Wait!” 
He paused.
“I was gonna ask if you can come and talk with me until I fall asleep?” 
He stood quietly for a moment before closing the door and taking a seat in the chair beside the bed. 
“Thank you,” you smiled before getting a little dizzy, your face fell, laying back into the bed. 
“I wanted to say a few things since we haven’t really been able to talk since I’ve been out. I’ve also been thinking about a lot of stuff.” Your voice made Kuni glance toward you.
“About what?” He tore his gaze from you toward the window.
He sounded a little cold with his tone. Trying so hard not to make eye contact with you.  
“Thank you, for taking care of me, I really appreciate it.”
He continued to glance out the window as you spoke.
“Hmph.” He scoffs 
You frowned softly and scooted toward the side he was near. Grabbing his hands in yours making him glance up at you.
“I really mean it, the fact that you went all the way to liyue to Bubu Pharmacy. When Amber told me, I pieced it together. I really appreciate you, I also want to apologize for not listening to you when you suggested that we should go to mondstat. I was reckless and stupid. I understand now..” You gripped his hand before reaching the other to tilt his hat up to a perfect angle, that way you could see all of his face. 
He looked a little flustered for a moment, like he wasn’t expecting this. Glancing into your eyes before turning his gaze toward the window. 
“Yeah well,” he started before he squeezed your hands as well.
“You should know I’m always right.” He glanced back at you. 
You rolled your eyes.
“I’m being serious here,” You glared 
“I really appreciate everything you’ve done so far to take care of me. We’ve been traveling together for quite some time now. If anything were to happen to you at all. I would do the same for you, because I really care about you. I wanna tell you something.” You pulled his hat off and placed it on the desk. Standing and Pressing both hands to either side of his face while glancing down at him. A stunned look decorating his face. 
“Puppet or not, you and I aren’t that different when it comes down to it, I believe that you have come so far to prove that you have more of a heart than anyone else. You have feelings.” You grabbed his hand and laced your fingers with his. 
“Because in my mind,”
“You’re human as far as I’m concerned.”  You whispered sweetly. His eyes widened, his breath hitching. Those familiar words. His face appeared in mind, the moment that he said those words. The smile on his face. 
“You deserve to be with your family and friends.”  Niwa’s smile and voice found it’s way back into Kuni’s mind.
“I just want you to know that you aren’t worthless. You are so much more. You may have chosen the wrong path once but now, You walk with those who care. No matter what anyone says. You deserve to be with family and those who make you feel like you’re home, I’m glad you’re here.” You smiled at his widened gaze. Tears pricking at his eyes. Teeth clenched. 
“Can I hug you?” You ask softly.
“…” 
His hands gripped at your arm. You automatically knew that was a yes. So you wrapped your arms around him and hugged tightly. Tears pricking at your own eyes as you softly caressed the back of his head. Playing with his hair. It was at that moment that you pulled him to lay along with you. A warmth spreads throughout your chest, your heart beating rapidly. You two laid there, with him in your arms and you letting him cry everything out.
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Opening his eyes to glance around the room. He sat up with wide eyes. 
“Did I actually sleep for a bit?” He glanced down at his hands. His mind wandered to the previous conversation you both had. He smiled softly before turning to glance at you. That’s when his smile dropped. Your eyes were squeezed shut. Your hair sticking to your forehead. Teeth clenched and hands gripped the blankets. Your fever must’ve gotten worse. 
“[Name]!” He grabbed your arm to turn you onto your back. He flinched back once he felt how your temperature had risen. You were practically burning up. 
“Shit!” He ran toward the dresser and checked the medicine box. To your luck there was nothing left. He sighed in frustration before tossing the box toward the wall. Putting his shoes on, hat, putting your shoes on. Draping a cloak over your shoulders before picking you up onto his back and carrying you outside. He had to do something quick before it got even worse. With that he took off toward the gates of mondstat.
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Part 2 anyone? Anywho I’ve been working on this for maybe a few weeks trying to perfect it I hope you guys love it!🥺 - may <3
sorry for any errors I tried my best to edit it as best as I could! good day loves!
406 notes · View notes
Note
part 5
"Amor vincit omnia"
He was woken up by the ringing phone, maybe that was a good thing, everything hurt him, literally everything! He glanced at his phone, who the hell was calling on him, yeah, this man always has a good sense of the situation.
- Hey, I wanted to confirm the date of recording the podcast, you asked me to let you know.
- Ok, thanks.
- I got ten thousand questions for you, have you seen? But now we laugh whether we should ask you about those juicy stories from the gossip blog. You know we all read them? Your brother thinks you write them yourself, hahaha.
- Yeah, of course I do. - he laughed
- Oh well, I won't bother you, have a nice day.
It worked! It was Polyphony, limbic resonance, symbiotic interdependence, fucking sci-fi- he thought.
But let's start from the beginning... because sometimes searching for a solution to a mystery can be too much fun and exhausting.
That night, when she fell asleep, she was horny, "vortex fission" echoed in her mind, she had no idea where she could have heard it or what exactly it was, so she just fell asleep. But she immediately woke up when she heard his laughter and his touch on her ankle. She was lying on a huge mattress in the middle of a black void, the only light coming from something like a smoldering red-yellow cloud above them. She didn't even have time to think "where am I?" because he just spread her thighs and drove his tongue into her pussy while grabbing her nipples and squeezing them so that she howled with pleasure.
- Would you like some company? - he asked
- What company? As long as you are where you are, all the rest does not exist - she whispered.
- Mhmm, it will be different today - he muttered, still playing with her slit - the only drink better than Diet Coke is this - he slurped, licking his hot source - but maybe you'll like this more - and... he slid his cock between the lips. Oh fuck!!! He has doubled up!!!- her brain exploded. She had him between legs and in her mouth! She didn't expect this but she was all for it.
- Come here - he lay down and literally impaled her on his dick and she took turns sucking the next two of him! Then she felt the next one touch her back, push her slightly forward and entering her ass. It was an orgy! She never dreamed of something like this! She was on fire!!!!! When suddenly, from the blackness, the figure of another woman emerged and approached them, she did not recognize the face, only heard his dialogue with her:
- Ik doe mee.
- Wachtwoord?
- Zonnedroom.
Now there were two of them, and he had multiplied to eight!
- Nos unimos.
- ¿Contraseña?
- Sueño de sol.
- ¡Ah, ahí están nuestras chicas latinas!
-Je joins.
-Mot de passe?
-Sundream.
- Я присоединяюсь.
- Пароль?
- Солнечная мечта.
- Можешь только смотреть, хахаха, я шучу.
She heard it again and again in another language. It was a sexual hell of pleasure, yes, she knew they were girls from the blog, and he satisfied them all, each of them had him for herself as much as she wanted and the way she wanted. Admission requires a password, but we know them all. And then the phone rang with urgent information confirming the podcast recording.
❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
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ikkosu · 28 days
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FRAGMENTED
[ lost light x gn.bot.reader ]
the hnk x mtmte fic I've been having a long brain rot about hehe. if you don't know what hnk is — basically (I'm going to explain this very concisely without having to spoil) is a manga about humanoid gems battling their adversaries, the lunarians. ( If you like Psychological body horror this is manga is the one for you.)
summary : stuck in a time loop, the struggle to save your friends from impending death is an arduos task.
PROLOGUE
"That's enough! "
Digits clamp over your arm — curled and digging into the paint. You're halted halfway of scamper and so commence a battle of defiance, pedes skidding across the metal floor as you struggle against his yank from the bright swirl of vortex blue.
The entrance mien you longed to be rooked in, by the beckoning light, it's fervour, it's allure — now diminished to nothing but vaporized air.
"Don't be anymore foolish than you already are —"
Your back hits the wall, chuffing out a grunt amidst the clang of metal.
" You're going to break."
Perceptor is roosted before you, a stubborn barrier between the Warp and the ire that is your recklessness. Underneath the dim veil of the laboratory, the swirling blue flared his backside, shadows and ridges of his features, accentuated
Rarely, he smiled.
A tug of the corners are all he managed.
It takes a while to ease out the stone-cold firmness of the scientist's formality. Of days where nostalgia reigns, the many shenanigans you pulled just to see the soft, crack of a smile, were reminiscent.
"It keeps me in line. Discipline is a much needed extravagance." He said.
But rarely is how forlorn he looks, right now. His paint job were gnawed — chipped and worn. The polish red are now a dull gray of muddy brown. Shoulders hunched, lethargic as if bricks weighed his stature and face plate along the creases, are the exhausted sag of his optics, flickering a pale blue from the many days of Energon shortage.
"There's nothing we can do." His tone was grave.
"You're lying."
He shuts his optics, silent exasperation pulling his features. There's a chant in your head. A chant so fervour it drowns out the howl of the Warp. You're optics flicker. Your digits twitch. You're restless. Restless. Restless.
"The Warp is due closing in thirty minutes." Perceptor lets out a vent. He treads on a steady tone, servos curl out placatingly, unlike your stature treading on a light, thin rake of thread. " The only solution now is we—"
No! The chant harrowed. You grab his shoulders, rooked in the digits to his plating and shook him.
"There's no other solution! This one's mine."
"Listen to yourself!" He bares back. "Are you aware the nonsense you're spouting?!"
"Any second now that ship is going to blow." You said lowly. Agitation pulses your spark. "If I could just— If I followed the route I mapped prior — something has to change. I know it will change. I've almost got it, Percy!"
The Scientist could say otherwise, donning a mad look on his face. His lips twitched, a harrowing kind of laugh broiled, chucked in low, deep in his throat.
"You've said that after the thirtieth try." He exasperates."You've said that after the hundredth. The many thousands. You have to understand : do you think you're in an optimum condition to follow through? Look at you. You're barely functioning!"
The swirl now churned, barrelling round until the visage is a blur of blue-ish white. Apparatuses clinked. Capped flasks rolled off from the tables that stuttered and skid from the abhorrent seismic vibration.
You let him go.
He staggers back.
Your optics skimmed the ground, along the muddled surface of the once polished gunmetal gray, are vines that crawled up to your pedes.
"That's not very Scientist-like Percy." You circled the Scientist, who's undeterred from his spot as the barrier, optics following your pace.
"Oh, please. Apologies, if situation we are rooked in is far from the most logical means."
He's careful not to let you out of his sight. While he's fit for combat, a cut and dry sharpshooter at that — the pistons that rusted under his platings could no longer fare against another scuffle.
"You're telling me you'd rather watch it blow?"
"I am clarifying that we are to do nothing."
"Nothing is abstract."
"Try predetermined."
More often than not, the rock becomes a ledge. A cliff-side prone for a slip — then submerged into the inky, swarthen void of darkness.
You're willing to risk it.
A kind of vexation startled in his throat as you lunged for the Warp, digits clamping the grey tins for rims. Instantly, the field embraced you, pulling you in. The blue swirls has a vicious like quality that lapped desperately at your forearm when you reached for it's touch.
The chant, elated at the sensation, glowered. Migraine shoots up from your spinal strut, all the way to your helm that ellicited a violent shudder.
When you swiveled your helm, maybe for a last look at the Scientist — desperation seeps clear from his faceplate. He has nothing to say. Words mean nothing as of this moment.
He watches with distraught as you're submerged whole into the white cadence of the swirl, until all that there's left of you is the nub of digit, ridges a flare of blue, curling out to point at him.
"See you at a future's time."
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atlantis-just-drowned · 4 months
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Why isn't anyone talking about the fact that Pluto's flashback came from this awful feeling of hopelessness when he pulled the trigger of that gun and realized he couldn't get rid of Montresor because there were no bullets?
And his brain went "oh yeah like that one time where you really really though you were going to finally escape and experience freedom and rebuild everything far away but at the very last time your dad trapped you and ripped everything away from you" ?
He though finally there were light at the end of the tunnel, just to see it falter and die right in front of his eyes. Now I want to cry. Again.
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jadegretz · 25 days
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Sorceress: Keeper of Mystical Balance by Jade Gretz
The air crackled with a spectral energy as the Sorceress stood before the Eyes of Thetis. Unlike the usual swirling vortex of colors, the legendary artifact now pulsed with a sickly green light, an ominous reflection of the disquiet stirring within her soul. For weeks, unsettling dreams had plagued her, visions that ripped through the fabric of reality and painted Eternia in shades of nightmare.
The Sorceress, Teela Na, her once vibrant golden hair streaked with silver from years of wielding the power of Grayskull, reached out with trembling fingers, the emerald pendant nestled against her chest pulsing in response. Today, she wouldn't seek guidance for He-Man or battle strategy. Today, she ventured into the treacherous realm of prophecy, desperate to decipher the cryptic messages her own sleep offered.
As she touched the Eyes, a wave of nausea washed over her. The familiar warmth of Grayskull's power felt tainted, twisted with a chilling dread. Images flooded her mind, a chaotic kaleidoscope of twisted landscapes and monstrous figures.
Eternal snow blanketed Eternia, not from a gentle winter chill, but from an unending blizzard of jagged black ice. Wind howled like tortured souls, carving grotesque faces into the frozen landscape. Once majestic castles, like Snake Mountain and Grayskull itself, were reduced to skeletal husks, their towers piercing the frozen sky like accusing fingers.
Then, beings materialized from the storm – twisted parodies of Skeletor's skeletal form, their eyes glowing with a malevolent green light that mirrored the Eyes of Thetis. Each carried twisted versions of Skeletor's HAVOC staff, but instead of crackling blue energy, these emitted a sickly green mist that choked the air and withered the very life from the land.
A chilling shriek pierced the vision, and Teela found herself staring into the face of He-Man, or a twisted mockery thereof. His once powerful form was emaciated, his muscles replaced with skeletal protrusions. His eyes, devoid of any warmth, glowed with the same malevolent green that plagued the vision.
Panic clawed at Tee …(see the rest of the story at deviantart.com/jadegretzAI). For more supergirl, chun li, batgirl, tifa, lara croft, wonder woman, rogue and much more, please visit my page at www.deviantart.com/jadegretzai - Thanks for your support :)
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amorelray · 4 months
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VORTEX - An Analysis
Season 1/Start of Season 2 Analysis: ❗Season 1 Spoilers Ahead❗
Disclaimer: All thoughts are my own personal interpretation and contain my own theories. Additionally, this post will be of a significant length.
Starting with the Opening Chorus:
Let it unfold Will howling tides give me something to hold? On to my life when I've sunken so low Over the end of the vortex we took every breath to follow Where do we go Where do we end up when we save the world Truth in the shadows so brightened in gold Place our fate into the ones aren't in control
Starting out the season, Cheng Xiaoshi's life has been completely flipped upside down. From Qiao Ling being possessed by the other power user to Lu Guang bleeding out on their living room sofa, CXS is utterly at a loss as his life has "sunken so low." In fact, it's almost assumed that CXS blames himself for much - if not all - of what's happened as he knows the mistakes he made in the past likely led to change what has unfolded in the present. At the beginning of the season, the line that seemed to stand out the most was, "Place our fate into the ones aren't in control." This is said and fades out as CXS is falling, falling, falling and being thrown around through the chaos and void of everything around him. It fades out before hearing the word "control" very clearly and almost sets this tune of "slipping away," as if what little control he did have previously is sliding right through his fingers.
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Verse 1:
Stop A couple things undue Drop the fight and let it follow through Freeze just for a sec or two Breathe again in the world anew I guess that there was never such a thing Like everything's meant to be But I'mma win this silly game Until then I will never leave Take back all my regrets And camouflage it like your silhouette Time is like music Play it 'til the end and then reset Knowing it all am I destined to fall? Like once you did for me
This verse at the beginning of the season very much felt like a promise from CXS to LG. Especially with the lines, "Take back all my regrets," "But I'mma win this silly game," and "Knowing it all am I destined to fall? Like once you did for me." Each one of them seemed to double down time and time again on CXS's resolve to fix the problem he likely believes to have created. Throughout the verse, he's falling and the audience sees glimpses of him being tossed around once again and LG falling as well - like a mirror to CXS. It's like CXS is watching both of them plummet due to his own wrong doings. However, while these lyrics paint one picture, the actual animation seems to paint another. During this verse, it's shown that LG is the one falling alongside our antagonist and QL while she's possessed. By showing the audience this image alongside the lyrics it can be inferred that there's something else going on with LG regarding these characters. At the beginning of the season, it was likely heavily believed that it had to do with LG's life hanging in the balance. However, there always seemed to be a sinister undertone that the audience seemed to clue in on and want to understand.
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Backwards Portion:
In the intro, everything goes forward and during this portion, it all goes backwards. As the song rolls into the distorted backward melody, the audience watches as CXS falls over and over again; back to the beginning. After the smallest touch from LG's hand, CXS is dropped back into the chaos the same way he might be when he enters a photo after a shared high-five. The audience watches as everything slips away from CXS, completely unable to grab or hold onto anything to stop him from falling all over again.
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I'll go into more of the full song in the next section as I didn't actually listen to it until the end of Season 2.
Overall, I believed that we were about to see a season where CXS would desperately try anything and everything to save LG, but that it might all have slipped away from him at the last second. However, just as I discussed in my "Dive Back in Time - Analysis," I was severely mistaken by what was hidden underneath in both of these openers.
❗Season 2 Spoilers & More In-Depth Analysis Below❗
Season 2 Analysis: ❗Season 2 Spoilers❗
Once we received the knowledge that LG had dove back in time to save CXS, the way this opener was interpreted changed quite a bit as well. I don't believe it was as drastic as Season 1's "Dive Back in Time," but it certainly did change.
Verse 1:
Stop A couple things undue Drop the fight and let it follow through Freeze just for a sec or two Breathe again in the world anew I guess that there was never such a thing Like everything's meant to be But I'mma win this silly game Until then I will never leave Take back all my regrets And camouflage it like your silhouette Time is like music Play it 'til the end and then reset Knowing it all am I destined to fall? Like once you did for me
Where, in the beginning, this verse seemed like a promise from CXS to LG, its script is nearly flipped as the audience discovers LG's secret. Once assumed to be CXS's words, it's almost certain that these are likely LG's instead or as well as CXS's. The word that really seems to prominently stick out is "undue." Why use that word? When first listening to the song, it's almost assumed that it's "undo" as in undoing the present or the past, unraveling something that was once almost certain. However, with the change of word, it changes this intention entirely. The way the word is used could imply 2 different things: 1. "A couple things undue" - Maybe a couple things that are excessive, inappropriate, or extreme that they have to deal with. Or... 2. "A couple things undue" - as in "not paid" or "not yet paid." This would be a good nod to the fact that LG had gone back in time to save CXS and his "death" is currently "unpaid." Additionally, the lyrics following: "Freeze just for a sec or two, Breathe again in the world anew," really seem to double down on that idea of CXS coming back and LG asking him to pause, wait, stay in the new world he created by going back in order to save CXS. However, once all of this starts unraveling again, LG seems to start questioning the world he created. "I guess that there was never such a thing, Like everything's meant to be." Reading the rest of the verse, it becomes increasingly more clear that this is more likely from LG's perspective and reflecting back on what is currently happening in their lives along with the decision that he made to go back and try it all over again. "Like once you did for me," really seems to seal the idea and theory that LG wanted to sacrifice himself in place of CXS at the top of Season 2.
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Verse 2:
Back to me I know that you can track it back to me No matter who and what and when intertwined dive back in time The truth will remember our legacy Wasn't it hard to follow? I'd do it again tomorrow It drag me down and drag me down Maybe we'll never leave Like trying to bend water Why would you even bother Time is like music Now you know I've got to kill it Wanting it all And the whole world will crumble and fall
"Back to me, I know that you can track it back to me," immediately tips off that this entire verse desperately has to be from LG's POV. As it might have been assumed early in the season that "I know that you can track it back to me," could point towards CXS's mistakes from the previous season, knowing what LG did, this has to be about that. At the end of the day, LG knows that the choice he made to save CXS is the main node in this current timeline; and therefore, all of this can be tracked back to him and that one decision he made to go back. The next two lines heavily imply that LG knows that despite what happens in this timeline, the truth remembers their legacy (assumed LG & CXS). It's almost as if he's recognizing that this timeline might not be the truth, but that outside of this one lived experience, the galaxy, stars, truth will always remember what he and CXS were always meant to be and the true lives they were meant to carry. By stating this, it leads the audience to believe that there is in fact a true or correct timeline and that it's possible LG knows what it is. The following four lines, starting with: "Wasn't it hard to follow?" and ending with "Maybe we'll never leave," really reiterates that LG does not, under any circumstance, regret the decision that he made to go back. He may have broken his rule, but there's no remorse in doing so. LG also recognizes that the choice he made is nearly fruitless. "Like trying to bed water, Why would you even bother?" LG knows that it makes no sense that he even tried, but he talks about "Wanting it all" even though he knows that it would make "...the whole world will crumble and fall." Overall, this whole verse feels like LG basically saying a huge "fuck you" to the universe and expressing that he will do anything to ensure that a timeline where CXS is alive and well will exist.
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Chorus:
Let it unfold Will howling tides give me something to hold? On to my life when I've sunken so low Over the end of the vortex we took every breath to follow Where do we go Where do we end up when we save the world Truth in the shadows so brightened in gold Place our fate into the ones aren't in control
By the end of the season, this chorus could easily be seen from LG's POV as well. "Let it unfold," - is this about the timeline/future that he's trying to see play out? The howling tides could be a nod towards all of the hard times they're going through as it might not be the best, but at least it's something - a timeline where CXS is alive, at least giving LG something to hold. Then, noting that his life has "sunken so low," likely because of how LG's life has dwindled to a place that he's just so desperately trying to save CXS that nothing else matters anymore. There's questions he seems to have for when they manage to set everything right and are allowed to move on. Where do they go from there? Everything LG will have fought for will have petered out and he sounds as if he might feel a little lost. Is he worried that CXS won't need him when they've managed to make everything right? "Truth in the shadows so brightened in gold." This line really feels like it's about CXS. The audience knows that CXS's eyes change to "gold" when he jumps in a picture. So, this line could possibly be LG pointing out that all of the "truth" that can be found is hidden, but may be found via CXS. As if he might be the key to "setting the truth right." Which leads to the final line of the chorus: "Place our fate into the ones aren't in control." Hearing this and knowing what place LG is in during the entire season, it could be inferred that he's placing their fate in CXS's hands and while he appeared to be the one "in control" during the season, he truly wasn't. Thus, placing their fate into the hands of someone not in control.
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Closing Stanza:
I've held promises unbroken Even when the night has fallen Shattered mirrors our reflection Should you keep the light on reason I've held promises unbroken Shattered mirrors our reflection
It would be hard to believe that this could be anyone's POV except LG's after the end of Season 2. He's held many, many promises, rules, ideals- unbroken even in the hardest of situations. LG is presented time and time again throughout both seasons as a stickler for the rules. By doing this, it created a narrative for something like this: "I've held promises unbroken, Even when the night has fallen." While simultaneously creating a human aspect about him and allowing him to make a "human" mistake and become a "hypocrite" by breaking his own ideals to go back and save CXS. Thus, potentially leading to the next 2 lines: "Shattered mirrors our reflection, Should you keep the light on reason" LG recognizes that the shift and changes in the timeline has, in fact, "shattered" their reflection. It's almost alluded to that he's aware of the changes and multiple timeline parallels; and its even hinted at that this timeline might not even be the second or third one that he's lived through to try and save CXS. Additionally, when first listening to the line, it's curious that it's not written/sang in such a way that it sounds like "Shattered mirrors. Our reflection," as if indicating shattered mirrors being their reflection, but that "shattered" is what mirrors their reflection. Thus, giving a slightly different idea/feel to the line. It really helps drive home the idea/theory that there are multiple timelines and LG has potentially gone back and experienced a handful of them in order to bring them to the current present time. It helps the audience gauge that there's likely more information that LG knows that has been unrevealed and that the time-traveling theories are much wilder and more vast than originally imagined from Season 1. After notating the shattered reflection, the next line could be a question LG asks himself. Is it worth it to hold onto the ideals and rules when everything has shattered beyond a point he might believe to be irreparable? Is it worth it when CXS's life is on the line? How much longer should he hold onto reason while he's actively committed and continues to commit hubris in regard to their fate?
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Final Thoughts:
A couple of things to note before I officially close. 1. The final "Let it unfold" feels like a call LG is making to the void/timeline. Asking for it all to show itself. To be the way it should be/he wants it to be. He's desperate to see the final outcome to the onslaught of choices and hard decisions he made to get there. 2. The line, "Over the end of the vortex we took every step to follow," really intrigued me. Looking it up, "the end of a vortex" is an actual space that exists. It's: - The phenomenon when under some conditions the vortex core deviates from the axis of the cyclone separator and attaches to the wall, where it rotates at some level above the bottom of the separator. & A flow instability that plays a crucial role in cyclone design and operation. By reading this, it's incredibly interesting to think of the fact that LG potentially believes that they've been existing and following this "experimental" space within the vortex of time. They're following this phenomenon that's still being experimented on, studied, and understood in regards to water vortexes - let alone, time-travel. It's not something that is concrete or has sound science backing it, yet, LG seems to be experimenting on his own. I believe it's interesting that this phrase was chosen potentially for this very reason. LG has likely been "experimenting" with the timeline in order to come to the end of his intended conclusion regarding CXS's life in this [time] space that is entirely unknown and untested. He's been taking them down this route and keeping them in a space that is not only unstudied but also unknown and completely unstable. Overall, I think this song really doubles down on a lot of the theories going around regarding LG and CXS, but also gives us hints and insight into information that we might not know yet as the audience. There are certain words and keyphrases used in these lyrics that really seem to tip the audience off to deeper and more profound theories that I cannot wait to see unravel in later seasons!
For those of you who made it to the end, thank you for listening to my ramblings. I love this show so much and was really excited to do a deep dive analysis on both VORTEX and Dive Back in Time! I think this show is beautifully well done and I cannot wait to see more!📸💙
& if you haven't read the Dive Back in Time Analysis and liked this one, you should check it out!
That's all for now! Thanks again for reading!😊💙
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fanfictionhab · 3 months
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Dance Macabre: v1
Lore: Enemies-to-lovers Female Tiefling + Astarion
ao3 link
The cobbled teeth of the alley bit into Caelia's thin soles, each step echoing in the cavernous silence. Her breath, a ragged ghost escaping her lips, mingled with the chill that clung to the damp brick walls. Every rustle of unseen fabric, every distant howl carried on the wind, sent prickles of fear dancing across her skin. The city, once a haven, now felt like the maw of a predator, its shadows whispering tales of a monstrous hunter stalking the night. Yes, she had heard the rumors. The whispers had shadowed Caelia like wraiths ever since she stumbled into Baldur's Gate. Among the migrants along the way, there were tales of cloaked figures, silent reapers gliding through the moonlit maze, leaving laughter replaced by chilling absences. At first, she'd scoffed, dismissing them as tavern whispers and flickering lamplight playing tricks on weary minds. But now, threading through the city's narrow veins at night, a prickling unease crawled beneath her skin. She understood why there was such a rumor. The once-thrumming pulse of the city had muted to an unnerving hush, the darkness pressing in like a suffocating shroud. The whispers, once dismissed, now echoed with a bone-chilling truth, their spectral voices whispering from the damp brick walls, warnings etched in the shadows. Caelia clutched the worn leather satchel containing her meager belongings, its weight a grounding anchor in the swirling vortex of her unease. The tavern, a beacon of flickering light visible through the labyrinthine alleyways, was her only relief. Reaching the tavern, that lone beacon in the oppressive darkness…
As she was walking, suddenly a shiver ran through the air, a prickling sensation like cobwebs catching on her exposed skin. It wasn't the wind, nor the distant hum of the city. It was a presence. A presence with an air of sharp frequency, a palpable aura of crimson that sent a wave of dread chilling over Caelia. A shiver danced down Caelia's spine, and her fingers subconsciously found their way to the worn leather grip of the dagger strapped to her thigh. Its familiar feel offered a flicker of solace against the creeping fear that tightened its grip around her. The tavern, so close and yet so agonizingly far, seemed to mock her with its promise of safety. The trembling in the air intensified, turning into a palpable pressure pressing against her chest. Her steps faltered, eyes straining to pierce the veil of darkness ahead. The whispers of suspicion that crept through the alley coalesced into a single, ominous certainty: she wasn't alone. Caelia's heart pounded against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the chilling silence. Her hand instinctively gripped the hilt of her dagger, knuckles white against the worn leather. The shadows writhed, obscuring any glimpse of her pursuer, but the tingling along her skin was signaling unseen eyes fixed upon her. Then, with a sudden, almost imperceptible second, the air itself twisted. Time seemed to stutter, then warp, collapsing into a single heartbeat. Caelia froze, a choked gasp caught in her throat: A figure had just materialized out of the darkness above her face, smoke tendrils merging into a vaguely humanoid shape, reddest eyes blazing with feral intensity, the glint of a knife held high and tight, aimed for a killing blow. Time stopped.
Instinct- honed by fear, snaps Caelia into action. Her left hand, imbued with arcane energy, wove the quickest defensive spell: an aard shield. A shimmering barrier materialized around her, deflecting the attacker's vicious blow with a deafening clang. The shield pulsed with residual energy, the air was still crackling from the clash. The creature fell sprawled, the knife clattering uselessly at his side. The feral rage had drained from his red eyes, replaced by a flicker of surprise, then dawning recognition. "Magic shield?" he rasped, his voice a rough scrape against the silence.
Cautiously, Caelia stayed silent and approached, her hand was still holding the dagger. As she approached, the silver light of the moon reflected from an open window above, revealing his silhouette. The light bathed the figure in an ethereal glow, revealing a lean, almost skeletal frame shrouded in tattered clothing. His skin was almost translucent, giving him a ghostly pallor that contrasted sharply with the bright white, curly locks of hair cascading down his head. His nose was well-defined, giving him an air of confidence and poisé. His elongated, rectangular chin jutted out prominently, creating a perfect alignment with his sharp canines, and was accentuated by the delicate point of his elven ears. His very pale complexion instituted a stark harmony with the bright white curls of his hair, which framed his face in alluring ease. Struck by this first look, Caelia's attention shifted to his body. The red flowing from him stained his pale skin, oozing from fresh cut wounds that whispered of a recent fight that could not be caused by her magic shield. The shield can't cut this precisely. She thought to herself that this encounter could not be his first today, he looked like he fought a million wars before. Caelia's shield pulsed once more, pulling her attention back to reality, the air crackling with residual magic one last time as it vanished. The figure, though disarmed, remained a coiled spring of desperation. Seeing she approached him, he noticed the opportunity. He lunged, claws aimed for her eyes, but Caelia ducked with practiced ease, her foot whipping out to sweep his legs. He stumbled, crashing against the damp brick wall with a guttural curse.
"ah, so agile for a street rat…" he groaned, a glinting smile with annoyance on his busted lips as he finally gave her a proper look. "Ohh…" he said with revelation and revulsion. "A tiefling..."
He scrambled up, eyes burning with feral fury. "Should've called you a street goat, shouldn't I? Horns and all." This time, he feinted left, then lashed out with a right hook that grazed Caelia's cheek, sending a sting of pain through her jaw. She flinched back. As an elder daughter, she did not hold back against his wordplay. As she avenged his cut with a swift jab to his ribs with her horns, drawing another pained gasp from him, she replied in wit, "See? Horns give a definite head-start over losers."
He lunged at her in a moment of seconds. His swiftness ripped fresh lines through the tattered fabric of his old, dirty, gray shirt. The pale skin across his back was unveiled. There, stark against the bloody, wounded canvas, lay a mark. Not ink nor brand, but raised lines of old scars, woven into an unsettling sigil. Runes, alien and ancient, encircled a central symbol, pulsing with a faint, unholy luminescence as his ragged breaths strained them open. Caelia's parry faltered against his lunge, a tremor snaking through her grip. Recognition flickered at the edge of her mind, a half-glimpsed memory from the books she read and whispered warnings in forgotten libraries. Cults, ancient pacts, infernal bargains... The fragments fused, chilling her blood despite the furnace heat of the fight. They continued to exchange attacks while they were both analyzing each other with sinister. With each brutal exchange, her gaze darted back, tracing the lines of the mark, etching them into her memory. The clang of steel became a staccato rhythm against the backdrop of doubt, her every feint a desperate search for confirmation. Then, as their blades clashed once more, the sigil's unholy light flared, momentarily illuminating the intricate runes. A name, written in the language of Infernal which she can read very well as a tiefling, slapped into her mind: Cazador. This mark, etched on this unwitting pawn's flesh, bore the symbol of an infernal pact, a tethered leash to an entity of unimaginable evil. Caelia's breath hitched, and understanding this sank like a leaden weight in her stomach. This wasn't just a duel; it was a brush with a power beyond mortal comprehension, a glimpse into an abyss that threatened to consume them all. The fight raged on, fueled by a newfound, icy purpose for her: to unravel the enigma on his back, a puzzle carved in flesh and steeped in forbidden knowledge.
"Cazador's spawn," she finally grasped, the words tasting heavy on her tongue. "That's what you are."
He froze. The word was like a whiplash cracking across his raw nerves.
Caelia felt a growing unease. This is why his attacks, though vicious, lacked the power she expected from the so-called "monstrous legend". His movements were sluggish, his blows less than coordinated. His desperation, however, was undeniable, etched in the tremor of his hands and the ragged rasp of his breaths. The revelation hung heavy in the air, momentarily suspending the dance of blades. He wasn't a monster. Yeah, as a vampire maybe he was, but. He was not a monster monster. She read about the backstory of vampire spawns and the legend of Cazador. She knew about infernal history and infernal traditions as it was her culture. She knew he was nothing but a human stripped bare, made a monster by its master. His ferocity, she realized, stemmed not from bloodlust, but from desperate clinging to survival. Caelia lowered her dagger, her gaze locked on the sigil, then back to the creature's haunted eyes. He was no longer the predator, but a broken reflection in her eyes. At that moment, under the cold gaze of the moon, the roles seemed to shift: the hunter became the hunted. She was going to start to cling to his prey. While she was standing there with a downed dagger, his heavy breaths filled the silence, punctuated by the occasional cough wracking his thin frame, he was hardly standing.
"My my, why are you staring like that?" coughed from exhaustion. "you liked what you saw, hmm?" The crimson eyes that had burned with feral fury now flickered with something else - knowing that she now knew who he was- it was a sinister acceptance.
"You're..." she started, her voice hesitant. "You're not what I expected." Her voice was softer now, laced with a cautious curiosity. "you are weak."
"Ugh, you hurt me...To be honest, your words are sharper than your dagger, tiefling"
His voice hung in the air, a fragile bridge stretched across the chasm of fear and suspicion. He was catching his breath while trying to ignore the hellish pain of his new injuries added to his previous injuries, but he was still trying to hold on to his blade with all the remaining energy without any will to draw back. The silence stretched, taut as a bowstring. He stared at her, she stared at him: his red gaze flickering between the moonlight glinting off her horns, and her dark gaze skipping in between the sparkles of the same moonlight on his marble skin.
"Pity" as she sighed. A word long absent from her vocabulary, resonated in the street, a foreign echo in the symphony of his suffering. His lips cracked and dry, twisted into a snarl. "Pity? From a hybrid of the devil like you?" His voice, hoarse from exertion, rebelled not her but the circumstances of his life, with a bitter venom. He was trying to get up but failing and slipping aimlessly. Caelia met his gaze unflinchingly, "I see a creature in pain, A creature, perhaps, not so different from myself."
His sharp and high laugh echoed in the alley as he was trying to arise, "Dont insult me by comparing yourself to me"
The words struck a very specific raw nerve in her, and a spark ignited in the embers of her past as a tiefling. He wanted to lash out, to deny her pity, but the fire in her eyes held him back. A hundred years under Cazador's thumb had taught him only to obey, to crave pain, yes... yes he was weakened. But should he be pitied? No, no way. This unexpected pity of this ridiculous horny thing gnawed at his anger, twisting it into bitter, despairing resentment. He was a creature of shadows, forged in cruelty, and saw only scorn, blood, and ridicule, enduring everything they have done to him. Yet, here she stood, offering something he had already cannot tolerate very well - pity. This was the last straw for him. Being pitied by a little demon. Exhaustion was already coiled around him like a serpent, squeezing the last dregs of defiance from his bones. Hundred years of hunger gnawed at his insides, a hollow echo of the hundred battles he'd fought today just to be alive, the blood he'd spilled just to escape the clutches of Cazador. His body, a tapestry of aches and throbbing wounds, felt like a leaden weight against the cold stone wall. He'd fought for hours, danced macabrely on the precipice of Cazador's oblivion palace, only to stumble here. This was the last fight of the night for his freedom. He mistakingly thinking the haste walking sound of a tiefling for another spawn following him and this is why he made the first attack. Even if he made a mistake, he could easily take out a normal person even though he was injured and tired enormously. Now as a last surprise test of this freedom quest, this annoying goat was actually good at fighting! And even, she could beat him, try to pity him, how dare she! The anger against her filled him with a last spark of his diminished vitality. A blessing from darkness. A blessing from vengeance. One last dance. He was the chosen of all these dark feelings. He could feel every torture he ever lived through was burning inside him when he heard the word "pity" from her red-as-hell lips. He was slowly rising, trying to hold onto the wall with his shaken hands as he gained his last drop of energy drawn from vengeance.
When Caelia saw him trying to get up, she shouted, "Get up already!" and threw a sharp blue pulse with her magic, which he quickly dodged. He had that damn smirk replaying on his lips. The soundwaves of a high-pitched giggle slapped on Caelia's face, and he finally stood up: "The ever-elegant shadow dance! ahaha... A dance macabre! The last curtain. Though I must confess, my dear, your steps lack a certain... finesse. Perhaps I should offer private lessons?"
"Your charm might work on moonstruck moths, vamp, but I'm immune to your theatrics," she said. She rocketed a crackling energy of pulse to him again. Tilting his head, amusement dancing in his crimson eyes, hastily dismissed the energy. The concentrated thunder blast crushed the wall behind him, some bricks were demolished. Both of them seemed like a child playing with their meal, or a hunter playing with its prey.
"Darling... Are you sure my charms didn't work on you? You are prolonging this fight instead of finishing me off easily. If you consider my condition-" pointed his wounds, "you can do it but you don't... "
The stand-alone finished when she burst another blast. It hit right beside his head, burning a lock of his curls. This was her answer.
"Oh, how utterly melodramatic. Did you switch to magic again? Can't a gentleman simply appreciate a captivating performance of steel?" His sudden energy surge started to really annoy her. "My patience, like this shiny dagger, is wearing thin. So, unless you have a death wish to accompany your charming wit, just go away or let me be"
"Why, you can just kill me?"
"I am just protecting myself since you attacked me first, why would I kill you if you just leave me be!"
"Oh, I apologize for that. I mistook you for a spawn after me but I liked where this went, I do not want this to stop... This is a dance for survival, a waltz in the jaws of oblivion. And as for who I play for... well, let's just say, I have my shadows to appease... My first entertainment as a free man after I escaped Caza-" She, being done with nonsense, blasted one more energy again but this time it was narrow, like a needle, it was precise, like a stitch. He couldn't dodge this time. It hit him. It hit him badly. After flying about five meters, he adhered to the ground.
The sting of defeat, sharp and bitter, was eclipsed by a crushing wave of weariness. His last energy drip was gone with this final part of the play, and he miscalculated she wouldn't attack while he was speaking. No… No. He wasn't defeated, not entirely. It was simply the exhausted retreat of a soul pushed to its limit. Even the echo of her dagger and magic hand, a distant whisper now, seemed more like a lullaby than a threat. This wasn't surrender, not entirely. It was the weary retreat of a rogue who'd stared into the abyss one too many times. His eyes, glazed with fatigue, drifted to the slivers of dawn creeping through the grime. Perhaps this was it, the final curtain call in a play of relentless pursuit.
As he lay on the ground, "You cannot Kill me," he laughed with agony, voice raw with sarcasm and a twisted longing for the play. "Try to finish it. You cannot. and You wouldn't be the first to try it"
Caelia's gaze softened, a stark contrast to her horns and the shadows playing across her face. "Hm, yes... I can do it easily," she said in mischief, her voice gentle yet childish, "yes I think we should kill wounded animals to end their suffering", pointing at his wounds. "but I don't kill. So just leave me alone" lowering her attack pose and putting her hands down.
He was still in denial. "Let me have a break and we will continue this dance darling, no no. I am not finished" his voice choked, "I just need a moment, catch my breath… because you know... I am... in a fight-or-flight... extra... vaganza for hours now." "I see that. Was it Cazador you were escaping from?" "Y... yes" "How? Isn't it impossible?" she says with the dagger pointed at him and her left hand pulsing with magic. "As you can see, I just made it. Nothing is impossible for me." "You break free from the infernal pact? how?" This doesn't feel right..." her eyes focused him: "This situation" His breath was evaporating on the cobblestones. "You cannot imagine what I can do. Especially when I am furious" he smirked hardly with a flash in his eyes like a fox.
"Aaaw. I think this little wounded bat is furious he got beaten by a "goat." He tried to laugh it off but the century of torment etched into his every muscle. Caelia was trying to grasp his sarcastic contrast to his miserable physical state, but he continued to tease her. "Ahh, don't worry about the wounds,..." with the short and precise inhales caused by his wounds, " I like the pain they give me..."
Silence descended, thick and heavy. His breath, once ragged, sputtered into shallow gasps, each one a tiny rebellion against the encroaching stillness. His heart, once a frantic drum, stuttered, a dying ember flickering against the rising tide of darkness. The world blurred, the edges dissolving into a swirling haze. In that final flicker of consciousness, a ghost of a question echoed in his mind: was it all worth it? Then, with a sigh that whispered into the silence, even that faded, leaving only the echo of a fallen star and the bittersweet melody of a dance forever unfinished.
Caelia's heart was aching with finishing him off and freeing him from his suffering because she knew there was no way to reverse his damned pact. However, her mind was bedazzled by his energy. A flicker of empathy, perhaps, born from her encounters with cruelty and ostracization back in her life... She found herself empathizing with him. It was a dangerous path to tread, offering empathy to this disgusting murderer born of darkness, but something about his haunted eyes stayed in her mind. His claws, she noticed, were chipped and dulled, more like broken Greek statues than weapons. His clothes once seemed sleek and menacing in the dark, were now revealed to be tattered and stained, offering little protection against the night's chill. She stared at him, his silence, not even a single breath, was deafening in the cloaked alleyway. The moonlight glinted off the sigil emblazoned on his skin, a chilling reminder of his origins, yet in his fragile statue-like body, Caelia glimpsed a flicker of something else - vulnerability, the raw yearning for survival that transcended his monstrous nature. She questioned the sympathic thoughts arising in her, what was happening to her? He lay still with his eyes closed. Instead of delivering the final blow, she knelt beside him, she wanted to touch him, soothe him, ease his pain.
Her touch was surprisingly gentle as she traced the sigil on his skin. "Interesting" she whispered. She raised her hand, palm outstretched towards his heart. A soft, emerald light pulsed from her fingers, materializing into a shimmering globe of energy. He tightened, a primal fear of unfamiliar magic twisting his gut. But the pain, the ever-present agony, momentarily receded as the glow brushed against his wounds. A gasp escaped his lips, his consciousness finding himself in the middle of healing… The gasp was not of pain but of something akin to disbelief. In a hundred years of torment, Cazador had never offered him solace, only punishment. And now, this tiefling, a low race born from an ancient sin, a half-devil that should have been his supposed enemy, was giving him a reprieve. His eyes widened with disbelief and he hardly whispered,
"You are… healing me?"
The emerald light bathed him, seeping into his wounds, mending torn flesh and knitting shattered bone. The infernal flames gnawing at his insides flickered and dimmed, the agonizing heat yielding to a cool, soothing wave. As the magic faded, he found himself slumped against the wall, utterly drained. He looked at Caelia, his crimson eyes no longer burning with rage, but filled with a bewildering mix of confusion, shame, and as much as he hates it, a glimpse of gratitude. "Why?" he whispered, Even now, battered and broken, he held a strange magnetism, a pull she couldn't quite place. Was it a pity, morbid curiosity, or something deeper, something whispered by the shadows themselves?
"Why?" she echoed, her voice soft, but almost hesitant. The thought flickered across her mind – Cazador's mark, the whispers of compulsion... but no, it felt different. This was… gentler, subtler. "Because," she finally said, the words tasting foreign on her tongue, "because something in me says so, and I listened"."
His dulled red eyes, wide with disbelief, narrowed at her cryptic answer. But before he could press further, Caelia cut him off. "Look," she said, "this is just some kind of a temporary healing, a false life. This will manage you until you find somewhere safe… This is all I can do since I am not a cleric nor a druid."
He looked at her with the most blunt face ever "Don't-"
"Dont What?" She sighed with shock and nervousness. She palmed her face and gestured down the alleyway, "Rusty Flask three streets down. Room five, downstairs. there's a hidden back window you can enter through to the room that I…I reserved"
He stared at her, his expression was in between blatant and illegible. "And I'm supposed to believe this… generosity?"
Caelia shrugged a flicker of defiance in her eyes. "Believe what you will, but if you want a place to clean up and disappear from the other spawns, that room is yours." She stops and adds a quiver of her intention: "Also…" She hesitated, "this is the first time I've ever seen a real vampire. I am curious about your kind and I know what a spawn goes through… from the books I mean."
"you know... from THE BOOKS?" He laughs as it's the funniest thing ever. His high-pitched string cords echoed on the cobblestones. "Damn, this night started as an opera of an action, a drama, a horror…. but now it's a tragicomedy."
With the shock, the defeat, the tiredness, the revival he had, he wanted to continue enjoying the irritation of her: "A 'thing' solely created to look like a mascot of a Town Ball game… learned about a hundred years of unimaginable torment by a vampire lord from the damn what, books? what do you know about torment you little horned toy"
She had not said a word and with that, she turned away. She was done with all of these, her confusion was also added a cherry on top of this chaotic cake. She was done. She did what she had to do. She protected herself, she survived, and even, she offered healing to her attacker. But now she was done. Caelia started walking, completely ignoring him. He stayed where he was, just silently watching her go. She melted into the street's darkness with disappointment, leaving him behind with the echo of her cryptic offer and the gnawing ache of his wounds. As she navigated the labyrinth of Baldur's Gate, her mind churned. Cazador's mark, the fight, the unexpected pull, the way his eyes seemed to pierce through her defenses… The line between empathy and folly blurred for Caelia. Had she, in a haze of confusion, offered help to a bloodsucker? His sudden shift, a flicker of gratitude or a veiled manipulation, danced just beyond her grasp. Was it a "charm", the ebb and flow of this creature's twisted nature? The answer, like the taste of tiefling blood to a vampire, remained an enigma, shrouded in fangs and moonlight.
Slipping from the alley's hushed whispers, Caelia plunged into the Underbelly Avenue's throbbing heart. Cobbled streets, slick with rain, snaked between shadows, reeking of ale, sweat, and a hint of something wicked. Her mind a tangle of doubts, she navigated the familiar labyrinth, eyes keen in the flickering lamplight. The Rusty Flask's boisterous pulse shattered the alley's silence. With a relieved gasp, she said to herself, "I finally arrived." She enjoyed the colorful aura the tavern gave in contrast to the dark alley she survived. Orcs guffawed, elves murmured secrets, and a lute sang drunken tales. Caelia entered, others' eyes drawn to her own dried blood with questions on their faces, however, she was quickly forgotten in the tavern's rhythm. A grunt, a rumble through a ledger, and the tavern keeper grunted back, "Right then, lass. Follow me."
Up creaky stairs, past hops and pipeweed, she reached room five. Small, simple, safe. A lamp flickered, and a thin blanket awaited. Not much, but a shelter. Caelia sighed, entered, and shut the door, leaving the night's secrets, and whatever dawn might bring, just outside. The room, smelling like rust and moisture but secure, awaited its unlikely guest. A wry smile touched her lips. Perhaps something above her comprehension did whisper of possibilities, and tonight, she'd chosen to listen. Whether by intuition, manipulation, a spell, or simply the strange allure of shadows, Caelia had thrown a lifeline to a creature of darkness, and now, she waited with bated breath to see where the current would take them both.
The moon crawled across the sky, painting Caelia's room in silver stripes. Rest eluded her. Every creak of the tavern, every distant shout from the main floor echoed in her mind like a harbinger of regret. "What have I done?" she whispered to the cold stone walls, her heart a frantic drum against her ribs. Should she have killed him? He was a monster after all. The image of him, his glowing skin, broken and haunted... His crimson eyes, pools of the reddish fire, held captive by the leash of Cazador, flickered like a lost pup yearning for redemption. The dissonance, the beauty, and the beast, all flickered behind her closed eyelids, a haunting melody refusing to be silenced.
Hours bled into the night, each tick of the clock a tiny hammer blow against her resolve. Finally, with a sigh that rattled her own ears, she rose. Madness, this was madness. She hated the possibility that all of this was the lure of the innate charm ability of vampires. She couldn't risk her life, or her mission, on a whim. She decided to leave the room before the possibility of him actually coming happens. But still, she could not leave it alone. On the rough-hewn table, she laid out what meager supplies she could spare: bandages, a waterskin, and some stale bread. Bread? She laughs at her pensiveness. She took back the bread. What does a vampire need? Blood. No way. Maybe? She gave up thinking too much. Driven by a mischievous impulse, Caelia's gaze fell on a scrap of cloth she used to tend the cut on her chin, a souvenir from their encounter. It has enough blood to snack on it. It felt too stark, too laden with unspoken implications. She folded the cloth into a discreet bundle, a silent message woven in linen. She left it on the table. A playful challenge, a reminder of their clash. It wasn't much, but it was a bridge, a gesture of uncertain faith. Then, with a final glance at the window, she turned and left the room, leaving only the moonlight and the whisper of possibility behind.
She hesitated a little bit in the hallway. She stood there just long enough to subtly hear the telltale creak of the window opening, and the soft scrape of a step against wood, both sounds coming from her room.
A smile, hesitant and tinged with relief, appeared on her lips. She exited the tavern and she disappeared once more into the web of city alleys.
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soloistschornicles · 1 year
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⌗𝕬𝖘 𝕳𝕰 𝖕𝖑𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖊𝖘…
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〈 🥀 〉⏤ SYNOPSIS. As an attendant, you’ll do everything to satisfy your young lord. Even if things get dirty... 
♔. . .PAIRING. scaramouche x reader
♔. . .FORMAT. oneshot
♔. . .TAGS & WARNING. there's a fluff in it﹔ a slight of violence﹔mention of torture [ leave if you’re uncomfortable ]
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UNLOCK THE STORY WITH 〈 🗝 〉
A raging storm of blizzards and ice floes rumbled over the coast of Snezhnaya. The winds howled and screeched against the rocky cliffs of the icy shoreline, while the waters churned with heavy clouds. 
A few snowflakes drifted down from the grey sky as they whirled wildly into the air and disappeared in the midst of a swirling vortex that was forming before the eyes of those who observed the event. 
Hordes of Military soldiers and different legionnaires came upfront through the whole spectacle. A silhouette of a man was seen from a distance, his vast Kasa is apparent even in the raging white storm.
The Balladeer stood unfazed as he watched his attendant performing the task that they were assigned. 
"Don't lose your composure. We need those for Dottore's demands." The 6th Harbinger interjected.
"Yes M'lord, I shall continue with the procedure." You claimed. With the assistance of your vision, you prolong the swirling vortex on the palm of your hand with ease.
Intercepting all the abyssal-cryo energies stored inside them with precision, it would take just seconds to extract them from their frozen state and place them in the small container placed before him. 
As soon as you did so, the swirling vortex dissipated into thin air like the blizzard around it.
"Done," You proclaimed conventionally, handing the container to the Balladeer.
"Good work, you all dismissed." He said while walking off with an approving nod of his head. He signals the troops to return to their respective post. You immediately went to your master's side, like a puppet on a string. 
Ironic, isn't it? 
"These cryo particles consist of remains of the Abyssal powers. They are very difficult to acquire due to the high density of these energy molecules within each element, thus requiring much more precise handling. What do you think?" Scaramouche's indigo sphere pierce yours. 
You took a deep breath. "Unfortunately, I'm unsure of the specifics, however, I'm sure Lord Dottore would provide the answers that you need." 
You replied confidently. It had become an almost routine thing to reply to him, like a prayer that would be answered. 
"But, I'd be happy to assist you in any way that I could. After all, your wish is mine to grant."
⏤🥀⏤
"M'lord, it would be wise if you're wearing your coat. Your joints would be glazed by the cold climate." With a tender touch, you rubbed the back of your master as he leaned his slender figure to your warm body.
His soft hair tickled your skin, sending chills down your spine in response. 
A deep chuckle rumbled from his chest, making you feel small against him as your head lay snugly on his shoulder.
"Such a considerate servant, you are." He spoke low to you, not loud enough for other ears to hear but loud enough that you could still feel his breath on your bare neck.
He wrapped one arm around your waist and pulled you closer, holding you securely in the crook of his elbow.
It's not common for Scaramouche to be this affectionate during your working hours, commonly you and your master would be open to affection when you're both at your humble abode, particularly your shared bedroom. Where no eyes could witness your intimate deeds, though, you're not complaining. 
But what brought about such an action? 
"M'lord, has something bothering you?" Your hands reached up to caress his face, smoothing out the wrinkles and creases that plagued his pale skin. His indigo eyes softened under your touch as if he was content with your ministrations.
Scaramouche chuckled, "No, I'm just being sentimental." 
His fingers traced your jawline and cheekbone before they rested on your cheek, cradling the delicate skin in his hand. The tips of his finger lingered for just a moment, tracing over each contour and curve that made your face unique.
Sentimental? You're not sure what to say, so instead, you just hummed and continued rubbing his chin gently, trying your best to soothe him. Your master didn't need words, you understood his silent meaning and knew what he meant. 
"You're thinking too much again," he muttered with a frown and gently brushed your lips with his thumb, a rare act of intimacy. You sighed as his palm met yours in a gentle clasp. "Do not fret too much, my troubles will not last forever."
⏤🥀⏤
A cry of pain and wail of discomfort was heard through the cold cellar. The man in question sat upright, eyes shut tightly in a vain attempt to block out the agony that wracked his body. 
A pained gasp escaped him as he felt something foreign invade his internal organs, making it difficult to breathe.  He couldn’t remember ever having been so sore before.  
His back hurt and felt like it was on fire. Sweat dripped from his forehead as he struggled to get up but found himself unable due to a lack of energy.  All he could do was lie there with his face buried in the cobblestone hoping that everything would go away soon. 
He heard movement above his head followed by a loud clang. A moment later, the door was kicked open. One person entered the room, clad in a purple and black color scheme trench coat.
The man's eyes widened in astounding as he spotted the insignia of a notorious military organization in his hometown. 
"T-The Fatui? What do you want with m-me..?!" The man tried speaking but only managed a wheeze. He gasped in a large breath of air when the stranger roughly shoved his head down into the stone, forcing him to stay quiet for the moment.
"Normally I would indulge in the victim's chattering nonsense, but because of my master's hidden indignation, I should end this quicker." The voice said.
"Master?" The man asked confused. This person looked nothing like any Fatui soldier he had encountered before.
"Who are you?"  The man was genuinely curious. What could this person's agenda be with the man who shackles to the wall?
"Shall I recall the past events? Where you didn't pay off your mortgage, ran and hid away from the Divine's eyes. My master is capable of tracking low lives, but you're an oddity. You were the only complicating factor standing against my master."
The once-cold cellar became electrifying. It felt as if icy daggers were piercing his skin, burning into his flesh. Tears started pooling at the corners of his eyes as he felt his mind being invaded.
It was like a tidal wave washing over him, threatening to drown him alive. His throat constricted painfully, causing him to gag. 
He could feel his insides twisting and turning. The pain was unbearable. The man screamed in agony.  He couldn’t think straight anymore. There were no words coming out of his mouth. He was too scared to speak. 
He couldn’t move. He just lay there trying to focus on not dying. He could barely even breathe let alone speak. It was all the unfortunate soul could do to keep consciousness.
"Now, you shall meet your end."
⏤🥀⏤
"Next time, if you want to wander and do my tedious assignments, ask permission if you do so..." 
Scaramouche drawled as he basked himself into the comfort of your lap, caressing his indigo-colored tresses to soothe his mind's restlessness after a long day on the job as a Harbinger.
He sighed contentedly, feeling the gentle resonances from your chest's steady rise and fall as it supported his head in the cradle of your thighs. Deep within his belly, he hummed languidly. 
"Noted, Scara~" You cooed, ruffling his tousled curls with loving fingers before you gently pushed him off your lap and onto the bed. 
He yelped when you removed yourself away from him, but you only laughed quietly at his adorable whine. He huffed indignantly but settled down nonetheless and closed his eyes for a bit longer. 
As the door was rudely opened, revealing one of your master's lowly subordinates with a lack of manners, your genuine smile shifted to a practiced grin. 
The said subordinate handed out their reported files into your hands without consent and went up to forewarn the Harbinger of the recent events that occurred on the Snezhnaya coastline..
Your lover in question was just lying on the bed with an irksome expression on his face that was about to erupt but was subdued, listening to his underlings who spouted inconveniences that were not his concerns.
"My lord, what's your opinion on this situation?"
The underling waited for your lover's response, but all he got was a lackadaisical motion of his hands, and you knew what the situation was at the moment. 
After placing the documents on the nightstand, you abruptly grabbed the subordinate's arm and dragged them into an empty room containing all of the unique contraptions.
Scaramouche doesn't need any of such a equipment since he has his own electrifying abilities, but you needed it to perform proper procedures on your victims.
The Harbinger simply watched you doing the process with a crazed smile that accentuates his porcelain face.
"That's my love, always attending to my every need."
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scarvi-tealdisc · 3 months
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So, I've been pretty invested in an AU where Drayton is a Hisuian Zorua shared by an anon at @cheemken's blog. I've seen fanart of Drayton with a Hisuian Zorua so I latched onto that and started this writing project. I've got a vague plot, a hope and a prayer so hopefully this would be an enjoyable read!
Series: Pokemon
Characters: Drayton (Hisuian Zorua)
Chapter 1
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It had no welcome for the stinging bits of ice that pelted its fur, though that was the norm in Alabaster Icelands. It trudged on through the heavy snow, whimpering with each step that put pressure on its injured leg. 
Eventually, the frozen downpour became so harsh that it bruised skin beneath thick fur. It deviated off the path, taking refuge in a small cave some fifty meters off the path. The ground underneath was cold but dry, so it curled up into the smallest ball possible in a meager attempt to warm up.
A blizzard soon rolled through, its howling winds whipping the sharp pieces mixed with snow into its shelter. It burrowed further back, the rock scraping against its small body until the wind couldn’t touch it.
The raging snowstorm drowned out its soft, pitiful whimpers. It wished to see its littermates. It yearned for the gentle nip of its parent whenever it got a little too rowdy. It wanted to curl up with its pack, the littlest ones at the center, surrounded by safety and warmth. 
It weakly lifted its head and cried. 
It cried out for littermates that have long gone missing, for a pack scattered by human invasion, for a parent who bled crimson amidst the pristine snow. 
It cried until it could cry no more, head drooped in exhausted defeat. From the pain permeating from its injured leg, it knows that it can’t survive long within this harsh, frozen landscape. Hunger gnawed at its stomach, having not eaten anything since it ran from the humans. 
The baser part of its instincts screamed at it to get up, to keep moving, to keep on living for its kin. Though like the roaring winds outside, exhaustion drowned out everything else. Even if it wanted to, it knew deep down that it wasn’t possible. The only attacks it knew were to scratch and bite. It never got the chance to properly learn from its parent, and now it never will. 
Shivers wracked through its small frame due the frigid temperatures and its fear, present and ever growing. An uncertain future loomed over it, even if it could think of a future. It was highly likely that it wouldn’t survive through the week, either from a worsening wound, getting picked off by larger predators or humans deciding that its existence was not tolerated.
Briefly, the wisps on its head waxed and waned from resentment, burning white hot in its stomach. What did it do to deserve this fate? It lived peacefully with its pack within a territory far from human settlement. The elder Zoroark have taught it and its littermates of how dangerous human could be, to instill a sense of wariness that could be the difference between life and death. 
It was safer to hide than to fight, they were told.
They hid but the humans came to them anyway, braving the harsh cold they were forced to live in with stronger creatures at their beck and call. What could they have done at such an onslaught but to flee?
Some chose to fight. Others unwillingly so, like its parent who fell in an attempt to protect it. The opportunity given so tragically allowed it to run, run, run. 
Its resentment faded as quickly as it flared. Whimpers once again filled the small space. Cold, hurt, exhausted, hungry–it could do nothing to ease any of it. Truly, the only fate left for them was a slow, painful end. 
Yellow eyes slowly slid shut. Exhaustion had finally claimed it. Perhaps if it was lucky, it’d fall into a deep, deep slumber where it no longer experienced anything bad. Maybe it could dream of being with its parent, safe in its arms. 
As it succumbed to its fatigue, it remained unaware of the blizzard’s sudden end due to the giant vortex that formed above the cave it took shelter in. Energy befitting that of the gods surged from the rift and–
Ever so slowly, it opened its eyes.
Slow blinks sharpened its vision until it saw… greenery. Even as exhausted as it was, it quickly scrambled to its feet, whimpering from the stab of pain that radiated due to the sudden movement. While its senses were dulled, it went into high alert, head slowly turning to take in its surroundings. 
This… where was this place? Throughout its short life, it only knew of the vast, white landscape of the Alabaster Icelands. The elder Zoroark had shared tales of human settlements being amidst greener pastures but it seemed like an impossibility to its young mind. A place where it was green and not white? Where it was warm and not cold?
The unfamiliar area struck fear within it. All kinds of scents wafted around it, and it flinched from every snap and crackle that came from the foliage. It did not know where it was, only that being exposed like this made it an easy prey for predators.
It should get up, see if there was a burrow or cave somewhere where it could hide until it felt a little calmer. Standing on wobbly feet, it was only able to take a few pain filled steps before–
“Oh? Now what's this?”
Ice filled its veins at the sound. It was the unfamiliar tongue of humans. Flight instincts kicked in and it ran. Or at least it tried to. Its legs buckled beneath its exhaustion, a soft whine slipping out from the pain. 
The wisps on its head briefly flared as it thought of its resentment, at the injustice of it all but it faded, shackled by the whims of its battered body.
“Oh no, it looks like this little one is hurt…”
Through closed lids, a shadow casted over its form, the human having caught up to it. It didn't recognise the tone, a stark difference from the raging bellows dipped in fury when humans slayed its kin. If it could delude itself into believing, it sounded almost… gentle.
No, that couldn't be right. Humans are never kind to its kind. 
In its momentary distracted state, the human had closed the distance even further. When hands started to cage its sides, instincts kicked in alongside the surge of cold fear. Using up the last dredges of its energy, it turned to bury small teeth into flesh, where it tasted warm iron from drawn blood.
The human hissed in pain, the fleshy cage loosening just enough for it to wiggle free. Still, its freedom was short-lived, having no strength left to even run afterwards.
To think its last act was a foolish one. It showed hostile desperation and it will be met in turn by justified retaliation. Such was the nature of humans towards its kin.
“Yowch. Guess that was pretty stupid of me to do.”
As a dark shadow loomed over its battered body, it curled up into the tightest ball it could, incapable of putting up a fight anymore. Shaking and whimpering, it hoped the human could at least grant it the slightest bit of mercy by giving it a swift, painless end.
A heavy pressure settled on its back. A strong shove will break its spine, so it braced itself for the inevitable. 
Instead of feeling crushed bones, the oddest sensation occurred instead. At the crown of its head, it felt… gentle brushes. Through the unpracticed motions of a too smooth surface, it remembered the times where its parent groomed it. 
“Shh… that's it. I'm not going to hurt you.”
Unbelievably, it felt… comforted. It could not understand the human's words but the tone somehow soothed it. In its mind’s eye, it recalled times within the den where its parent groomed it after spending time outside. Those were the moments where it felt safe, comforted, loved.
Tears sprung to its eyes, eventually spilling over to dot the ground. It once again cried for everything that it lost, sorrow aching deeply within its soul.
Humans were the cause behind it and yet, it was this human that gave it a feeling of comfort with their strange gentleness. Perhaps this was simply a trick to lower its guard and strike when the opportunity arose but by this point, it truly couldn't care anymore. 
Eventually its cries tapered off when it succumbed to exhaustion once more. It remained still as the human properly picked it up, secured within gentle arms. 
Life for it will take a turn that it would never see coming but for now, it slept on.
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