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#if this gets good reception i'll have a easier time of writing part 2
qierxing · 10 months
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A/N: An interpreted continuation of @shiny-jr wonderful fic. This is one of the longest fics I’ve written…..carried by my love for Heartslabyul. Been chipping away at this every so often until now. I would strongly recommend reading Shiny’s part first, or else a good part of this will not make sense. Part two will be something that will be floating in the future.
TW/CW: Graphic descriptions of PTSD & panic attack symptoms, self-harm from bad coping habits, dissociation, dismemberment, references to Alice in Wonderland, made up lore LOL
I. II. | Isekai AU | Yan! Heartslabyul x Reader
"So she sat on, with closed eyes, and half believed herself in Wonderland, though she knew she had but to open them again, and all would change to dull reality…"
– Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, by Lewis Caroll
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i. Cremation
Ramshackle's mailbox is a pitiful thing.
It sits right in front of the small graveyard near forgotten covered in tangled vines and weeds. Unlike its surroundings which shine from recent renovations and repairs, the hinges still squeak loudly when the latch is opened and the outer parts are scratched and dented. On bright sunny days, it sticks out like a sore thumb.
And today, it's even more obvious.
The box now is in danger of tilting off its support pole, filled with the weight of lumpy letters, spilling out envelopes upon the dirt. Around it sits various colorful wrapped boxes and packages that are piled haphazardly across each other. You swear it gets larger each passing day.
“How many does this make?” 
A battered top hat pops into existence next to you, one of the resident Ramshackle ghosts who's been helping you around lately. (He had said you remind him of his siblings when he was alive. You're still unsure whether that was a good or bad thing.)
You let out a sigh through your nose. There's nothing to say about the situation in front of you. You wish they could disappear the minute you wish for it, yet the colorful wrappings and the various envelopes scattered around your feet don’t vanish the more you stare. 
“I’m really sorry about all this.” 
The ghost shakes his head, frowning at your apology.
“It’s not your fault, prefect.” 
The words are reassuring, but they don’t make the gross feeling go away when you crouch down and start picking up letters that have fallen out of the mailbox. 
From: Azul Ashengrotto 
Sender: Vil Schoenheit
Sent by: Riddle Rosehearts
All of them are addressed to you, of course. You can already imagine their contents: filled to the brim with regret and guilt, blotted words begging for forgiveness for the wrongs they’ve done. When you told the Headmaster that you didn’t want anyone visiting Ramshackle, that wasn’t an invitation for them to flood you with unwanted mail. Then again, perhaps you should have foreseen that they would do this. All of them are stubborn to a fault. It wasn't like your phone was any better until you’ve blocked all numbers making it go off endlessly like a shrieking parrot.
The resulting letters alone are thick enough to rival the textbooks Professor Trein assigns students. Pressing your lips together, you turn around to start heading back to your temporary home.The rest of the bulky packages can wait. The ghost helps swing the door open and Grim perks up from his seat in the living room as you set down the letters.
“Grim, can you get a fire going?”
“Now?”
He eyes the thick pile of letters with wary slit pupils and asks, “Aren’t ya…gonna read ‘em?”
You did. For the first few ones, at least. They were barely discernible, their apologies blurring by as they begged for your grace and mercy. That they would do anything to right their wrongs. If you didn’t know any better, you would say their reverence was akin to a cult. 
It makes your skin crawl.
After that, you stopped bothering to even  skim through. What is the point of continuing to make sense of lunatics? Of cruel games and intrepid players?
"We have the wood, and the house is a bit chilly, so why not?" You reply. Grim scrunches his eyebrows but doesn't object as heavy wooden logs are dumped into the grate. He takes a deep breath and blows upon the letters scattered on the wood, encasing everything in familiar neon blue flames.
You settle into the armchair next to Grim, staring into flickering blue flames. Grim curls up next to you, purring contentedly. All too easily, your eyes lull close to the sound of crackling flames consuming paper.
When you step out onto the front porch the next morning, you're overtaken by an overwhelming fragrance.
There's crimson red petals floating through the air. Fluttering in the crisp morning wind, they fall in your hair and the rest end up crushed under your feet. You'd feel bad if it wasn't so pungent; the very air feels like it's infused with the scent of roses. 
Your nose crinkles as you pick up the impossibly huge bouquet that is wrapped in silk and ribbons. It's certainly beautiful, you'll give it that. Yet this scent doesn't bring back good memories. It only brings vivid flashbacks of being lost among rose bushes, covered in dirt and scratches, trying so frantically to find a way out. When every single crack and snap was a possible life threat. 
You don't realize you're crushing the bouquet until something trickles down your fingers. It doesn't feel like blood pooling between your skin. Relaxing your grip ever so slightly, you find pin sharp thorns running down the stems where you were gripping. The fleshy meat of your palm is punctured cleanly in the shapes of the thorns. Was it left unclipped on purpose?
The card is the next thing you find with bloodied fingers, rumpling white cardstock and soiling it without a care.
To our beloved player,
We deeply apologize for the pain we have caused you and beg for your forgiveness. We will make sure to atone for our sins of harming you.
~H
The initial and the bouquet is too obvious of who it's from. Riddle must've penned it, because none of the card soldiers would ever write this formally. But it must've been Cater's idea to send the bouquet–Trey nor Riddle would've come up with such a sentimental and sappy idea. And Ace and Deuce would rather die than do such a cringey thing. 
The door opens again behind you. You turn to see a half-awake Grim groggily yawning. He stops once his blue eyes land on the bouquet in your hands.
"Whazz that?" He points a paw at the rumpled roses, and you hastily shove them behind your back. 
"Nothing." You say.
Grim makes a face before finally breaking the awkward silence with, "Do ya want me to go tell 'em off–"
"No." 
The answer is rushed and makes Grim's eyes widen. It's crazy, you know. But to have Grim try to solve the problem for you doesn't sit well with you. It's not like it's his fault for what you went through.
And maybe, deep down, you couldn't bear the thought of telling them nasty insults and curses to make them hate you more.
"I'll take care of it." You add, trying to reassure Grim, who only stares impassively. He shakes his head.
"Am I making another fire?"
"...if you can, please."
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ii. The Morgue
It’s been a couple of weeks since you’ve been brought to Twisted Wonderland. 
Yuu’s…body has been moved to another room. It freaks you out more than you would like to admit. It’s familiar, yet it’s not. It’s carved to your image, but with none of your personality. There’s something wrong with the way its eyes are tilted, the dip of its cheeks, the curve of the chin. An idealistic, dreamy mirror of yourself.
Still. You’ve seen many dolls in your lifetime, and even you cannot deny the life like artisanship. The seams of the joints are cleverly hidden and the skin is smooth and unfettered without any misshapen resin(or clay?)–these are marks of a true doll-maker.
“It’s your vessel.” Grim had said with a matter of fact tone. As if you weren't looking at an unmoving human body. “Everyone was freakin’ out cuz’ it just shut down outta nowhere.”
It must’ve been because you were brought here at that moment. The hypothesis doesn’t really make you feel any better. You should know better than to blame an inanimate shell of a vessel, but... 
You jerk awake, cold sweat running down your neck and face. It takes a second for you to realize you're not being encased in burning scarlet flames and it's not claustrophobic verdant green hedges surrounding you. The bed sheets are tangled, wrapped in a chokehold around your legs and torso. Instead of translucent leaves, the bed canopy curtain shields you from the moonlight pouring in. The soft snores of Grim sync with your ragged breaths in time.
Tonight's nightmare had been recurring for a while. Every single time you thought you had shaken it off, it comes back like a bad omen.
Instinctively, your hand runs over the bumpy raise of scars running down your back and neck. Most of them had faded with magical treatment and time, but there are some that still have rough skin that has hardened like scales on a dragon. 
Your fingertips curve inward and dig. 
You thought you were safe. The rose maze is large and encompassing: hiding would be the best move. You breath in–
– and you were face to face with the Crimson Tyrant himself.
His face contains no humanity, his eyes only reflect dark, dark anger and resentment. You thought you were staring into a never ending abyss. Something inky black catches your eye, and you realize with horror that blot is trapping your feet and leaving stains upon your skin.
"Stop right there, imposter!"
Your nails scrabble at the bumps and raises, tearing through them with obsessive speed. Faster, faster–it doesn't feel right, you have to scrub your skin clean of those foreign textures.
Adrenaline is the only thing keeping your legs from collapsing to the blot climbing its way up. You have to do something–
–something wraps around your neck and torso, and all air leaves you as it squeezes and knife sharp needles gnaw into bone.
Your breathing grows more hoarse as your nails scratch faster and faster, desperate to remove more of those vile clumps of impurities. 
"You will suffer as Yuu did." The verdict is declared with deranged gleeful vengeance. The tyrant points his scepter at your fallen body covered in thorny vines reminiscent of roses. Blot swallows your form and screams whole–
It's only when the familiar smell of iron registers in your mind, that you finally snap back to your senses. When you finally draw your hand back to view, it's covered in clotted blood and torn skin, both dead and fresh, all clogged under your nails. The open cold air now makes your neck and back sting sharply as blood trickles out of reopened wounds.
It's with a heavy heart that you quietly leave the bedroom entirely to wash away the blood in the kitchen sink. Crimson dyes the white ceramic for a brief moment before swirling away down the drain. 
The wounds sting and ache, but you can barely be bothered to tend to them as you resign yourself to the living room couch with a thin blanket. You think of Grim sleeping unaware upstairs and close your eyes. The old weathered grandfather clock in the corner ticks on and on with each second.
No, you can't blame a puppet for functioning for its purpose.
But you could tear its limbs out of its sockets so it could never walk anywhere again. If you plucked out its fingers and eyes, it wouldn't be able to find its way around anymore. Sewing the mouth shut would seal the deal.
Then it would truly know how it felt to have no choice.
Working as Sam's assistant helps take the mind off things. Crowley had begged you to resume classes as Grim's 'beast tamer', but something in you screamed at the thought of having to shed your feelings aside to return to what normalcy was. As if this world didn't run on the giant malicious cogwheels of fate and lines of code.
How painfully obvious it is that your mere presence is just a substitute. 
"Ah!" 
You look up from sorting products on the shelves to a surprised looking Riddle Rosehearts. No no no no–
You take in his sunken gray eyes and pale skin, before going back to shelving products. It takes strength to play dumb. Your shaking hands betray the fear growing within as they sort through stationary merchandise. Finally, the products are lined up neatly and you're trying to bustle away as quickly as you can–
"W-wait!" You try to ignore the half whispered plea, moving behind the counter with an unnatural speed. 
"Please, wait, I need something!" You do stop, because unfortunately, you can't completely ignore a customer in need. So you take a deep breath and grit your teeth, turning around with a polite smile. Stare straight ahead. Think not of smoldering flames and knife like rose thorns–
"What can I help you with?" He stares into your eyes, frantic and desperate. It's clear with the way his mouth opens and closes that he wasn't sure how to continue his case.
"If you aren't sure, take your time to browse, dear customer." The grin was starting to wear on your cheeks already with how much you struggle to keep it in place. 
Please just leave, you internally beg. You settle behind the counter, watching as Riddle bows his head and disappears among the shelves for his items. A tired sigh leaves your nose. 
Your hands keep shaking no matter how hard you clench and unclench them. 
He can't hurt me here. 
Sam is just a yell away and there's mace and a knife in your bag underneath the counter. 
It'll be fine. It's not the Tyrant.
A clink of glass catches your attention, as some ink bottles are pushed on the counter. 
"I've finished." Riddle's smoldering eyes choke you under their hues.
"I'll ring that up, then." 
The exchange happens quietly yet as you hand him the bottles, he pauses, looking down. "What happened to your hand?" 
Shit. There were still obvious swollen scratches and puncture holes imprinted on your hand. You completely forgot about bandages after Grim caught you with the bouquet the other day. You quickly hide your hand in your pocket. "I don't know what you're talking about."
He seems to want to say more, but is cut off when someone else comes up behind him, waiting to pay for their items. He only swallows hard and nods, setting out with only a guilty look back.
You finally breathe out a long sigh of relief when the door chimes echo behind him.
-
"That'll be ten thaumarks and thirty madols." 
This is the fifth time Riddle's shown up during your shift and bought ink. This time, it's a deep crimson color not unlike the shade that saturates his dorm. It reminds you of torn skin on nails from that night, and it takes a minute to shake those thoughts off as you pick up the bottles.
"Prefect, could I talk to you after your shift ends?" You turn to fix him with an incredulous stare, and he grimaces.
"I promise I won't harm you! Did you not get our letters?" But how can I trust you? On this cracked chessboard you are forced to play upon, you don't know where to place Riddle at all. He is too much of an unstable bomb that could blow up in your face at the wrong impression.
"Fine." He definitely won't back down until you agree to hear him out, and it's best to let him state his case once and for all. "My shift ends in an hour. I'll meet you outside."
"Excellent. I shall wait for you then, prefect." He takes his bag and leaves with a small bow.
The time passes all too quickly. Sam shoos you out before you can try to coax some overtime hours from him. And much to your annoyance, Riddle is waiting for you promptly as you step outside.
He looks nervous as he bows his head in acknowledgement of your presence. You'd almost feel bad, if it weren't for the fact that he nearly beheaded you at first sight.
"Have you received our recent letter and flowers?" A long silence follows, before you reluctantly nod. Your hand throbs as you open and close it out of habit. You just removed the bandages this morning, but the unbearable itch to reopen the scars is too tempting. Steel eyes are immediately drawn to the movement. "I see. Then I won't drag this out. Prefect, could we prove to you our sincerity to make amends?"
"What do you mean?"
"Exactly as I said. Please let our dorm express to you our sincerity to mend our relationship." The intensity of his eyes makes you sick to your stomach.
"You've apologized enough, Housewarden Rosehearts. I'm sure your card soldiers have too." Subconsciously, your hand drifts toward your neck.
He winces. No doubt it must be a sting to his pride that his numerous penned letters weren't acknowledged. "It's not just about apologies. We want to start over–turn over a new leaf, if you will, for our relationship. It would be a disgrace to the Queen of Hearts herself if I could not atone for what I've done."
Always with the rules. You're not entirely sure what Riddle means when he says 'mending your relationship', but it seems he's already set his mind to it. It would be hard pressing to get him to change his mind now.
"...sure." You reluctantly acquiesce. The tips of your nails brush against scarred skin before drawing back. You shouldn't. It took so long for the wounds to close again, for sinew to piece itself together, and for skin to finally grow back. You don't want another lecture by Crewel or Trein.
He brightens considerably with a look of relief. "Good. Then, please wait for our call." 
You watch in confusion as he trots off hurriedly after another deep bow. Wait for our call? What does that–
Something buzzes, and you realize it's your phone, lighting up with a notification from Magicam. You frown, tapping on the icon. A message? 
cay4cay sent a message request
The second you processed the username and profile picture, you instantly hit the block button. With a frustrated scowl, you shove the phone into your pocket. You deleted Yuu's account and only had a burner account for info purposes. How the hell did that social butterfly find your handle?
You groan. This is all too much.
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iii. Paying Respects
A letter arrives, but not by mail.
A jarring commotion rudely rips you from sleep's embrace. You groggily sit up, blinking once, twice, before realizing the noises were very much real and still happening. Who is this loud on a Sunday morning? Grim continues to snooze right next to you, unperturbed by the disturbances. You debate whether it's worth it to get out of the comfy covers. Then another yell echoes up to the room and you groan in annoyance. 
You slam the entrance doors open, ready to give the lecture of a lifetime before you stop in your tracks. 
Deuce Spade looks like he wants the ground to swallow him up whole. Even Ace Trappola, haughty asshole that he is, looks thoroughly ashamed to be caught in a compromising pose. The scene is so familiar that you can't seem to be confused. It takes a second of awkward staring from all three of you before you realize that you're still standing in your thin pajamas, out front in the public entryway in the cold.
"...May I help you?" The distant polite inquiry has them both flinching. They scramble to their feet, brushing off dirt and debris from their fist fight. 
"We're very sorry!" Deuce bows deeply, while Ace scoffs and looks away.
"Housewarden Riddle told us to give you this, so…" Ace shoves a white envelope with a seal boasting a crown insignia into your hands. The Queen of Hearts. You exhale through your nose. So this is what Riddle meant earlier.
You open the envelope gingerly, carefully inspecting it as if it were some kind of trap.
"We're going to have a party soon." Ace is still determinedly avoiding your eyes. "You can come…if you want."
You hold back a sardonic chuckle. Even after everything that's happened, he's trying to act like some kind of cool, suave guy. Your eyes drop down again and you open up the flap to reveal the elegant crimson cursive that decorates the paper.
You're cordially invited to Heartslabyul's monthly tea party. Please send your response ASAP.
Date: XX/05
Time: 14:00 - 17:00
A silence lingers in the air, heavy as a rock. You can tell without looking that the two were holding bated breaths waiting for your reply.
This certainly was out of the blue. But. It was Ace and Deuce. Riddle may have issued the order, but they must've taken initiative in delivering her majesty's decree. Stubborn and tenacious, yet they were still endearing with their loyal friendship. Who in this world would run across a whole desert for you?
That wasn't for you though. The intrusive thought immediately makes your lips thin. The card soldiers shift at the subtle expression change, nervousness painted all over their faces.
You would be lying if you said you weren't curious. Why an invitation to a tea party? It was rather unlike Heartslabyul–or at least most of them–to be indirect like this.
"Sure. I'll be there. I can bring Grim, right?" You flip over the card and envelope, raising an eyebrow at their stunned faces.
"Wait, you serious?" Ace stutters. His ruby eyes blink rapidly as his mouth gapes open. It’s clear he wasn’t expecting you to actually say yes.
"Why would I waste my time lying to you?" You sigh, crossing your arms. Granted, you never did send any response back to that ostentatious bouquet, but you were already preoccupied with the hundred of other letters and packages flooding your mailbox. 
"In that case, of course Grim can come!" Deuce says, looking like he's been released from an entire burden off his chest. It was no doubt plaguing him on what your answer would be.
"Great." You wave a careless hand, turning to close the door. You're so ready to go back under soft bed covers. "You can give my answer to your housewarden. See you then."
A hand grabs at your arm and tugs you back suddenly. You turn and open your mouth–
"You! You're the one that caused Yuu to shut down!!"
Wind blasts past you, leaving a thin trickle of blood down your cheek. Eyes wide, all you can do is stare at furious crimson eyes glaring you down.
"-Hey!" 
Those eyes. It's the same bloody crimson. The same sharp glint of raw bloodlust. Your right cheek aches terribly. Cold sweat runs down your back. Try as you might, you cannot suppress the reactive instinct to flee.
"Don't touch me." Your terse response has Ace retracting his own hand immediately. 
"S-sorry, sorry–" He’s scrambling to get past his mistake. If you were in a better state of mind, you would've laughed at his genuinely flustered state. "I–I didn't mean to grab you like that, it’s just that–"
"We also have something else.” Deuce cuts in, trying to cover for Ace’s blunder. He shoves something warm under your nose, and it takes a hot minute to process what you’re smelling. 
Lavender. The cookies within his hands are simple and aren’t decorated, but the buttery floral aroma they emit leaves you salivating. You slowly take it from his hands, staring at the carefully packaged bag. 
“...From Trey,” Deuce offers hesitantly after seeing your surprised expression. His tight expression and stiff posture betrays the way he is attempting to look respectable. “He's wanted to send you something for a while now.”
For a while? His dorm mates were all clambering to get any crumb of response from you. He might've had the manners then to understand that you wouldn't be delighted to hear from someone who only watched from the sidelines as you were being attacked. Did he only wait because his beloved housewarden didn't move yet? How typical.
“Tell him thanks for me.” The two of them shuffle their feet while exchanging glances at your freezing cold tone. 
"Don't mind us, prefect." Deuce elbows Ace, causing the red head to click his tongue and glare back. "Sorry for bothering you like this–we'll get going now!"
The two actually leave without more fuss, leaving you to twirl the invitation in trepidation.
When you look down again, the flowy calligraphy has been smudged by your fingers, ink blooming on your skin like blood.
"What does one wear to a tea party, Sam?" 
The question slips out before you know it, making the store keeper turn around and raise an eyebrow at you.
"And why is our little imp curious?" He teases. At your unamused face, his face splits into a garish grin.
"Perhaps you should ask Professor Crewel. After all, he does have quite the fashion sense." Sam strokes his chin in thought. "While we do have some outfits here, it might be best to get advice from someone who has been to these kinds of events."
And so, you find yourself standing in front of an indifferent Divus Crewel, who takes one look at you and takes another drag from his fashionable cigarette holder. He continues to shuffle through papers, all the while shaking his head.
“I should’ve known Sam would be the one to send you.” His voice sounds annoyed, yet carries no weight of anger. Much like how his bark is worse than his bite, Crewel isn’t one to heartlessly turn you away. “A tea party, you said?”
“Sam recommended that I go to you since you have more experience in this sort of thing.” Crewel does another critical once over of you, no doubt estimating your measurements for the look he’s thinking of. As expected of a former Pomefiore housewarden. He seems to already have an idea of what outfit would be best.
“I’ll help you, but you’re running some errands for me first, pup.” 
You shouldn’t have expected anything less from the alchemy professor. Now you’re stuck picking out ingredients in the botanical garden while you’re waiting for him to get the materials together for your outfit. 
Of all the botanical zones, it just had to be the tropical zone. The harsh artificial lights shine down as you lean down to pick herbs. While the temperature is bearable, you don't know how much more sweat your outfit can take before it gets soaked completely. The humidity is choking, and you feel dizzy from both the moisture and heat clouding your senses.
“Prefect?” 
You look up wearily from basil plants to see Cater Diamond in his labwear, with a face that mirrors your stunned expression.
Give me a break. Immediately, your awkward customer service smile falls in place. First her Majesty, then Tweedle Dee and Dum, and now the March Hare? But Cater knows how to read the room. Maybe he'll know to let it go–
Your hopes are dashed as he immediately bounces up to you with a grin. “Didn't think I'd run into ya like this. Whatcha doing here?”
“Er, Crewel wanted my help with getting him ingredients…” This conversation was quickly swerving into awkward territory. “Why are you here?”
“Ah, you know…” Cater chuckles sheepishly, “I got assigned to water the plants…”
You take notice of the steel watering can in his gloved hands, then the long green hose by his boots. “Ah.” 
“Guess that means we’ll be working together!” He chirps cheerfully and you cringe. Seven, anything but that! You quickly turn back to your basket and begin to pick up the pace in harvesting the basil. The quicker you finish, the faster you can get out of this deathly awkward situation.
“By the way, Acey and Deucey wouldn’t stop chatting about you accepting our invitation!” You flinch as Cater idles up next to you, using the hose to spray a generous amount of water over the patch of herbs. “It was pretty cute to see, y’know.”
“R-really?”
"Trey was also glad too. He and Riddle have been planning to make it the best tea party ever," he mock emphasizes. "They've been running the dorm ragged over the party deets. Cay Cay's been so busy with planning stuff!"
"That's not really necessary…" A feeling of guilt worms into your guts for a moment. You squash it. What Riddle and the others do is none of your business and no obligation of yours. 
"Right? That's what I said too!" Is he implying that you're the reason there's more work than usual? How shameless is he?
After a good minute of dead silence, Cater pipes up again.
"Sooo, prefect, whatcha been up to lately?"
You can't take it anymore. 
“Why are you talking like I have a gun to your head?” 
Ever since he made his presence known, he's adopted a high pitched cheery tone that grates on your ears. It was akin to a customer service voice, but you know Cater. That's his influencer speak.
Cater's chipper smile vanishes instantly.
"Whaaaat?!" You catch a glimpse of his snaggle tooth in his exclamation. He quickly turns and moves to water a patch of sprouts further away, "Like, what are you even talking about? You know ol' Cay Cay's just trying to lighten the mood!"
More like he's desperately trying to appeal to you. He knows which attitude will get him the most views, and the best expressions to rake in likes and comments. You often thought that trait was endearing in its own way when you saw him as a fictional character. Now that you're dealing with him as a human being, it just pisses you off to no end. How could he? You know Cater isn't known for his genuineness but….you thought he would at least act his usual aloof casual self. Then you would know that it wouldn't matter if you offended him.
The straw basket is finally filled with everything Crewel asked you for. It's with dirtied skin and sore muscles that you turn towards the exit without sparing Cater a glance.
"If you say so, Diamond." You hurl the words like a molotov cocktail, and it's very effective. Cater's eyebrows twitch and his hands clench around the watering can. It's one thing to call him by his last name, it's another to completely blow off the nickname he blatantly shoves onto you. "See you later at the party."
“Wait, wait, time out for a second!! Can you at least unblock me on Magicam?” The last sentence makes you freeze in your tracks.
When you turn around, Cater’s somehow still smiling that insincere smile of his. Your neck prickles with dread.
You trust me now, right? His crinkled lime green eyes gleam.
You're not fooled. He is desperate to appeal to you not from genuine adoration, but rather guilty obligation. Although he tried to scrub it from his Magicam profile, you saw the blurry reels and pictures of you fleeing for your life. The detailed descriptions underneath. Each one boasting deliberate timestamps meant for best exposure. He put a bounty on your head with his own hands.
Two can play at that game.
"Block you? I don't have a Magicam account," is your dry response. Cater continues to smile as his eyes close.
"Really? I swear that it was you…" His lips jut out in an insincere pout, tilting his head. You shrug apathetically, hoping the conversation runs itself dead.
"Well, if you do make one, hit me up okay?" Cater calls out after your retreating back.
Once you're in the school corridors and catching your breath, you dig your phone out with shaky hands and pull up Magicam.
Hitting delete account has never felt more relieving.
The outfit, in your quiet opinion, was not worth the mental gymnastics you had to do in the botanical garden. Not that you were going to say anything to the very teacher who has been known to treat his students like barking dogs.
"It should fit just fine," Crewel smooths out the crinkles in the fabric before handing it to you. "Go on now. Try it on."
A simple white with a red ribbon bow tie and black slacks. It was rather simple, which is just fine. You didn't need or want to stand out in this party. But you certainly didn't want to end up looking like a slob either. This suit your needs quite nicely.
Smoothing down your shirt, you give a spin as Crewel looks on unimpressed. He waves you off with a dry "Don't expect me to do any more favors for you, pup." You mischievously grin and wave him goodbye as you trot off with your clothes in tow.
The last rays of the sun sets the hallway ablaze with orange and yellow hues. You hum as you take the familiar pathway back to Ramshackle. With everything crazy that’s been going on lately, it gets too easy to be swept up in the moment. As you watch the shadows flicker between the stone pillars, you slow down to observe the scenery for a bit.
The sunset catches a glint and reflects bright white for a moment. You blink and it’s gone when you focus. You stop, confused at the intrusion. 
A loud click echoes behind you, but when you whip around, there’s nothing but the empty hallways.
You stand for a moment in place, waiting and listening apprehensively. Nothing else happens, and it’s with cautious paranoia that you turn around and start speed walking.
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iiii. Funeral
It would be impolite to show up to a party without something.
But now as you're standing before the mirror leading to Heartslabyul, you're having second thoughts.
What if it isn't good? You glance down at your box containing the simple custard puddings you were able to make just last night. You didn't really have the skills to make complicated sweets and the puddings only took three ingredients. And your outfit, what if it isn't up to the Queen of Hearts' rules–
"C'mon, [First]! Or else the food will be gone by the time we get there!"
You breathe out a giggle. "I don't think anyone can beat you on your eating speed, Grim."
"You don't know that!" He hops up and down impatiently, waiting for you to adjust the box in your hands.
Right, who cares about any of that?
You follow your companion through the warped glass.
The fresh spring breeze graces you first, then the refreshing scent of flora, and finally, the warmth of the sun on your skin. When you open your eyes, the stretch of viridian green pastures and vibrant flowers greets you. The land of Heartslabyul is as picturesque as you remembered on screen. It feels unreal.
And waiting for you at the end of the path is the very first dorm you've befriended.
"Weird. Where's everyone at?" Grim grumbles, ears twitching in irritation.
The entrance is completely devoid of any human presence. You don’t sense anyone in the building either, which is completely strange. 
Grim's right. Where is everyone? For an incoming tea party, wouldn’t there be various students rushing in and out for the preparations?
“Perhaps they’re in the maze?” You glance warily over to the tall hedges that bloom with beautiful roses. “Should we wait?”
“Ugh, that’s so rude of ‘em to keep us hangin’ though! I say we go lookin’ for them. Who knows how long we gotta stand out here!” Grim shakes his head, distraught at the thought of having to wait for his food. "Let's go to the kitchen!"
"You just want to see if you can eat something." You tut at Grim's scheming face. 
"Mya, so what?!" He yowls. "I'm going and you can't stop me!"
"Grim, wait–" You call anxiously, but your companion is already scampering off into the dorm. You're left with no choice but to take a deep steadying breath and press on. 
But the kitchen room is also empty when the two of you pop in. However, it seems like it was used recently, if not for the smell, then the sight of various dishes laid out on the counter would have clued you in. You sneakily compare your puddings to the spread laid out before you and wonder again if it isn't too late to put them away in a dark corner.
"What do you have there, prefect?" A low voice breathes in your ear. 
You and Grim shriek in tandem, with you almost fumbling and dropping your box and Grim’s signature sharp nails digging into your shins.
The looming presence behind you is revealed to be Trey Clover, who has an apologetic face after spooking the two of you. At least he is conscientious. 
"My bad, my bad," he chuckles, "I should've been more obvious about my arrival." He places a steady hovering hand behind your back. Just barely touching, yet close enough to feel its heat. Embarrassingly, the feeling is soothing enough that you can't find it in yourself to pull away.
"Sheesh, for real! You took some of my life with that, y'know Trey!" Grim hisses, detaching his claws from your poor legs. Trey only laughs and ruffles his head.
"I’m sorry about that Grim. Anyway, you guys came just in time," Trey begins to transfer the dishes onto a wheeled cart. "Food just needs to be carried out and the tea party can begin—but you have something, don't you?"
Regret seeps in when you think of your sad puddings next to all these gorgeous pastries and appetizers. 
“Uhm, I don’t think it’s really needed since you got all this,” you laugh sheepishly as your hands automatically hide the box behind your back.
“No way.” Trey’s smile is warm but firm. When he gently guides your hands to give up the box, you can’t find it in yourself to protest. “It can’t be that bad, since you made it.”
You're struck silent, and Trey immediately takes advantage of your state to press his hand to your back to usher you forward. His fingertips graze your side, and for a second, you swear his lips quirk into a smirk.
You follow alongside Trey as he pushes the cart out through the door.
"By the way, I'm happy to hear you liked the lavender cookies." You look over to see the baker smile warmly. "I would've tried something with the candied violets I had, but I ran out just as I was making them." He sighs as he shakes his head.
Something with the way he's worded it makes it sound like there was more to the story, but you don't care enough to pry further. Trey's golden orbs slide to meet yours discreetly, and you realize he's waiting for you to respond. You murmur an apathetic response back, and he visibly droops.
It's a long, quiet walk through the rose maze.
It seems your arrival with Trey threw everyone off guard. You don't know why they look so alarmed: the venue looks absolutely resplendent. Colorful lanterns dot the tree lines, swinging back and forth cheerily with brightly colored flags. The long table is draped with fine cloth embroidered with intricate lace patterns. There's not a single wrinkle to be seen in the fabric. And the rose bushes, blooming with both red and white roses, are pruned cleanly, not a leaf or branch out of place.
It is a tea party fit for the Queen of Hearts.
"And the guest of honor is finally here!" Easygoing as ever, Cater calls out jauntily to you both. He seems to be the only one not visibly panicking. "Trey, what took ya so long?"
"Had to get the dishes here, you know." He shoots a knowing glare at Cater, who flinches with a sheepish smile. "Someone was supposed to help me, which would've made it a lot faster."
Ah. Cater giggles nervously while twirling his hair. Ace and Deuce exchange disbelieving looks before shaking their heads. 
“Welcome, prefect.” Riddle greets you with a stiff bow. "And Grim." He hastily adds, seeing your companion’s face twist sulkily. The action makes you smile, if only for a moment.
“We’ve been waiting forever for you, Yuu—” Deuce jabs an elbow sharply into Ace’s side, making him cough and sputter mid sentence, but the damage has already been done. Another awkward silence reigns as everyone’s fearful faces are directed at you, trying to figure out how to best traverse the conversational minefield. 
“W-What Acey meant to say is–” Cater is cut off immediately.
"Uh, er, come to think of it, what's your actual name?" Deuce is the one who pushes forward despite everyone else’s horrified looks. As if he had uttered a profane exclamation.
"My…name?" You echo back. 
Right. Since all they knew was the puppet, they didn't know your true name. Heavy silence hovers in the air, even Grim was looking at you in anticipation.
"My name is…" Something chokes your throat. Reluctance? Or fear? 
"[First]. [First] [Last]."
They mutter it among themselves, tasting the syllables and weaving the rhythms of the letters. How strange. With sugar coated lips, their voices ring like church bells for prayer. You're born anew, for the way they look at you is enough to make your heart soar for several fleeting seconds. 
For a brief moment, you could believe that you were with your Heartslabyul again.
The tea party begins like a baby animal: slow, unsure, and always in danger of stumbling to the ground. But it’s Heartslabyul, and who else would know how to best host a party for its guests?
By the time the tea is being poured into your cups, a steady conversation has started naturally flowing between all of you.
“Is there something the matter?” Riddle asks for the nth time as he worriedly gazes at the way your eyes stray to the hedges and whimsical decorations beyond the table.
"Oh uhm…” You hesitate, still not meeting Riddle’s worried face. “Why are the roses both red and white? I thought one of your rules is that tea parties always have white roses." 
Riddle exchanges a look with Trey at your question. 
"That is true, [First], however…" He pauses, before continuing with a determined look. "Red and white roses are customary for parties celebrating with new friends."
“New…friends?” Your hand is frozen at your teacup.
Something fiercely warm fills your chest. There's cautious hope glimmering in Riddle and Trey's eyes. That wasn’t fair. How could they say something like that and not expect you to react? 
The party ends on a light note unlike its stiff beginning. The soldiers gather to see you and Grim off, but once Grim scampers off with his leftovers in paw, her Majesty moves to your side.
“Prefect–no, [First], would you come again?” He asks. His hands are trembling, tugging at your sleeve timidly like a young child again. “F-For an Unbirthday party, of course!”
It’s a request that’s not selfish, you note. Her Majesty’s card soldiers look on expectantly behind their monarch, and it takes everything within you to not collapse. 
“Of course. I can’t wait for it already.”
Your heart weighs heavy. They do not know that the promise is an empty white lie. Though you cherish them, you do not wish to act the role of a doll whose purpose is to play house. 
When they looked at you with those pleading eyes, who did they see? 
Yuu, the puppet they adored for its safe default responses and supportive words?
Or you, the player who has their own flaws and biased personality?
It's okay, you reason.
They won't be able to tell the difference between clay and flesh.
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v. Burial
You have a hunch about Yuu.
Only a guess based on many hypotheticals, but better than nothing.
If the puppet stopped working when you arrived, then shouldn't it go without saying that if you left this world, that it would return back to life?
The wooden door creaks open, stirring up dust and sending it flying into the air. You cough and sneeze, waving your hand to disperse the irritant. Serves you right. After all, you refused to step into this room since Yuu's body was hauled here. Didn't even dare to come clean the room. The dust settles and you can finally make out the puppet's silhouette from the waning light rays of the window.
It still adorns its proper NRC uniform, wrinkled in the spots where you had lifted it. It hasn't moved at all from its sprawled pose on the sofa. You remember the dread at realizing the only fitting school uniform you could possibly wear was on this puppet. It only cemented your resolve to break away from the puppet's image. Even if you had to resort to clearing out ancient closets and haggling with faculty, you'd rather take the raggedy shawls and worn flannel over the crisp blazer and button up the puppet wore. 
Its skin has become ashen gray, drained of any life. Old joints creaked in agony when you adjusted it to a sitting position for better examination. For a while, the both of you stare at each other.
Despair tugs at your mind. How long will you be trapped in this world? Has the Headmaster even done anything to help you get home? You snort. He couldn’t even bother doing anything when it was just the vessel. Why would that change now? 
Can you hear me?
The voice, so quiet yet clear, makes you whip your head around. No one's in the room. Are you finally going crazy?
You can hear me, right?
Is one of the ghosts playing a prank on you? You can't pinpoint the source of the voice at all.
I'm here–look!
With dread and fear pooling in your heart, your head turns slowly to meet the doll's eyes; whose pupils are now fixated on you.
The urge to scream and push away the doll is overwhelming. But in a world where the supernatural is natural, you suppose that dolls that can speak are the least impossible thing out there.
I can help you find your way home.
You swallow thickly. Pursing your lips, your grip on its arms tightens as you lean in. Something stirs, and it’s crazy, but you swear it hums in pleasure.
Listen to what I say carefully…
-
Decorations? Check. Refreshments? Check.
Outfits? Check.
So why does it feel like there's something missing?
"What's wrong, Riddle?" He turns to see Trey's concerned face. He gives an awkward smile back.
"I'm not quite sure, but something feels amiss." He explains, rubbing his neck. It's obvious enough to make him feel the familiar slivers of irritation slither through him. 
He tries to will it away. It's a good day, and there was nothing to be angry about. The player–no, [First]–had decided to give them a chance and agreed to come over to celebrate an Unbirthday party with them. Ace and Deuce are behaving as good, law-abiding card soldiers should be. The roses were saturated with dripping red, the dormouse had its nose smeared with jam–so what is this itch that won't go away?
"We can do a double check of everything again," Trey offers gently. “It shouldn’t take too long.”
Riddle shakes his head. “It’s almost time for them to arrive. I will not have them waiting on something that isn’t even a problem.”
“Housewarden~!” Speak of the devil. He turns with a frown at Ace’s loud shout, but it fades to a small smile when he sees you trailing after Ace.
"Hello, Riddle." You smile warmly at him, and his cheeks flush pink.
Wait. He stops. Have you ever called his name? He doesn’t have time to ponder this before he’s interrupted by Trey and Cater bringing in the food.
When everyone is seated and the party is in swing, he notices something.
“Is the food not to your liking, [First]?” He inquires as politely as possible, softening his tone to make it sound less accusatory.
You fluster, waving a hand. “Not at all. I’m just not that hungry right now.”
He decides to leave it, because it’s not as if it’s wrong, per se, if the guest wasn’t eating. He recalls Ace’s previous words to him.
“Housewarden, you really should loosen up a bit! Otherwise you’re gonna end up being a killjoy!”
He may be many things, but he is not a killjoy! Just because he was particular about certain things doesn’t mean he didn’t know how to let go.
But something feels off.
Then he realizes that while the conversation is flowing as usual, you are hardly speaking at all. You only speak when directly spoken to, and even then, it’s short, clipped responses.
He watches incredulously as you pour yourself a cup of tea and then drink it.
The golden scepter materializes in his hand as easily as breathing.
Everyone else reacts explosively, looking alarmed at the scene unfolding. Meanwhile, you merely stare blankly at the end of the scepter nearly several inches from your nose.
"Riddle, hold the phone, what are you doing?!" He barely hears Cater's frantic voice to his left. He's too focused on the way that…that thing is not reacting at all. 
"You. Where is [First]?"
It's silent for a moment, and then a disturbing crooked grin breaks out from its poker face. It starts cackling loudly and it makes his blood start boiling. 
"Start speaking or it's off with your head!" He screeches, scepter shaking uncontrollably in his hands.
"Boo, I was hoping you guys were stupid enough to fall for it.” The thing taunts, leaning back in their chair. 
Red fills his vision. How dare this thing use your visage and breath such vile words? Before he could register it, his arm swipes across. By the time his eyes clear and his breathing steadies, he's staring at a decapitated body that is mangled beyond repair. 
It takes another moment to realize he is not the only one who has raised their magical pen.
Trey is at his right, golden eyes dark as Riddle realizes he positioned himself to shield him. Cater mirrors Trey, but his arms are visibly shaking and his eyes keep switching from him to the broken body on the trimmed lawn. Ace and Deuce had positioned themselves to the backside, but they too, barely seem to be holding themselves together, clenched fists at the ready for physical blows.
“What…” he breathes, “is going on?”
The only answer he gets is the wind whistling through the grass blades.
He collapses to his knees as he fumbles with a body that has been torn asunder, but instead of flesh and bones, he only finds clay and chipped resin.
“What have we done?”
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tearsoftime0086 · 6 months
Text
20 Questions for Fic Writers!
Stealing a neat post from @sweepseven and we'll see how far we get haha. I haven't posted all of my stuff to AO3 so I'll kinda be pulling from a few places
1. How many works do you have on AO3?
Only 6! And half of them are from July till now lmao (aka the moment I learned about Steve Burnside)
2. What’s your total AO3 word count?
49,691
3. What fandoms do you write for?
Gosh if I kept consistent fandoms it would make my fandom experience so much more easier :') Started out with Gundam, though haven't really kept up post my move away from FFNet (really want to come back at some point tho). Code Geass and TKoE is my long-running baby. Currently swept up in a Resident Evil fever too (see previous question). I've also written some stuff for League of Legends, Persona 2, and Fire Emblem!
4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
Ravaged Blessings (Fire Emblem: Three Houses, T. Wrote this during the rising peak of FE3H's release. Started out with Blue Lions and whoa nelly I was not prepared for Dimitri's post-timeskip scene.)
Two Kinds of Eternity (Code Geass, M. The behemoth. I had this idea in my head for ages and once I joined AO3 in 2018, decided to finally give it a shot. It's been five years and we're only halfway there, but I'm glad folks have hopped on and off for the ride)
An Eternal Warpath For You And Me (Resident Evil, M. Most recent fic of mine that I'm thankful has gotten a lot of kind reception! Aka Chreon + me fitting Steve into the Resident Evil-verse as best I can haha)
Shuriman Nights (League of Legends, T. Bit of a kudos drop from this point forward, but I love all my works the same, so :) I will never be over Nasus and Renekton's lore.)
Once (That Was Enough) (Resident Evil, M. EVERYTIME I WATCH THE DARKSIDE CHRONICLES CUTSCENES I HAVE TO COME BACK AND RE-READ THIS ONE. The genesis of my sprawling RE AU)
With 6 fics, that leaves We'll Always Have Casablanca out of the standings! Turns out that fic was the first anyone used the Leon & Steve tag. Pure self-indulgence so I understand why it's the lowest haha
5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
I try to answer all of them! I have moments in life when I feel way too anxious about what to write back (like am I clogging up my own comments section? will they think it's weird if I write more than their initial comment?), but I work really hard to recognize the people who leave nice notes on my fics.
6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
I'm a sucker for happy endings (everything else in the story is fair game tho) so I hardly ever end something too angsty... I guess Shuriman Nights for its implications?
7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
Once (That Was Enough). Capcom, I reject your reality and substitute my own.
8. Do you get hate on fics?
I had a few small cases, but it's not frequent at all. I try to mind my own business and let folks be ^^
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
As someone who's like 90% sure they're ace/sex-repulsed, I don't. It narrows my scope of reading fanfic too unfortunately - some of the best written works I've seen are rated E, but I have to kinda "hold my breath" while reading them :(
10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?
I never posted it anywhere, but I had a sprawling DCMK/Gundam crossover I shared with a close friend of mine. Still re-read parts of it from time to time. (Silver Bullet Shinichi, anyone?)
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Not to my knowledge! I write so slowly that they probably wouldn't be able to steal it.
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
Nope but it would be a blessing if anyone ever asked!
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
Again not posted, but I used to do a ton of co-writing with that same close friend mentioned above. Good times.
14. What’s your all time favourite ship?
Ooh this one's a tough one. If I have to choose, it's Kamille Bidan/Fa Yuiry from Zeta Gundam. It's what really started my fanfic journey, and I'll never forget the pure elation I felt watching their beach ending in Gundam ZZ. Wonder how I'd write something for them in the present? It's been so long...
15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
If I thought about my deepest fears it would be TKoE, but I refuse. I will finish that fic. For a more realistic answer, I have a lot of mini-scenes for my Claire/Steve RE AU that I want to string into a full fic at some point, but I already have so many things on my plate.
16. What are your writing strengths?
Hmm. I like to think that in my writing peaks, I have a good sense of capturing character voices and dialogue. I'm also good at coming up with like, "angsty" one-liners, if that makes sense?
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
Gosh this one's much easier than the last one. My posting rate is abysmal for starters (sorry to all the TKoE readers). I feel like every other sentence I write is clunky and long. Like on re-reads I can usually shave a few adjectives and words off of every sentence. I get impatient about pacing when I'm actually writing, but my actual writing sessions are few and far between. Tough times man :(
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?
Different strokes for different folks, but I'm always afraid that a reader will get whiplash if I write in a language that I'm not comfortable with. Like sometimes I'll read fics where they reference Korean and it ruins my focus a bit when I read something that's not grammatically correct/realistic. Nothing to drop a fic over, but I'm not confident enough to write in another language myself.
19. First fandom you wrote for?
I don't remember off the top of my head. The first one I posted online was for Zeta Gundam, but also I think I have a small A Separate Peace story from around that time? Lol if I go back to my childhood original works, those stories were essentially Guardians of Ga'Hoole and Bionicle fanfics too.
20. Favourite fic you’ve written?
Once (That Was Enough) takes the cake right now. I remember looking on TVTropes for... Tragic Monster examples I believe?... and found a quick summary of Steve Burnside. Oh dear, that lad has me in his clutches and won't let me go. I had to write a story where he survives, and well... the rest is history. I even have a tag dedicated to the AU the fic spawned! Well, that was a ton of fun! If anyone reads this and wants to do it themselves, feel free to! Hoping to get more stuff out soon :)
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animalanie · 3 years
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Oneshot - Genshin Impact [Found Me]
Game: Genshin Impact
Title: Found Me (Part 2 of Lost You)
Pairing: Kaeya Alberich X Gender Neutral Reader (Platonic)
Word Count: +3.4K
Warning(s): Time mentioned is Teyvat based, not real life, still terrible at endings.
Requested by anon
A/N: I'm sorry if this isn't what you were expecting T_T. I'm new to writing for requests so I'm still getting used to them.
And sorry for posting this so late!
If you would like to see more of my work, here is my masterlist! If there is something you would like me to write, you can request here from any of these fandoms!
Part 1: | Lost You |
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"Another day, another battle." You stretched your arms above your head, admiring the view as you were elevated onto the upper floors of the building. Waiting for the mobile container to come to a stop at the top, you looked back down at the ground and noticed no monster in sight.
The mechanism rattled before seizing its movements, and you rushed out before it went down again. You entered the Inn and walked down the stairs to greet the boss.
"Good afternoon, Verr," You greeted as you leaned against the counter, exhausted after having cleared the area around Wangshu Inn for a good part of the day.
"Good afternoon, Y/N." She bent down to pull something out of the drawer in the reception desk before placing a bag of mora in front of you as compensation for your work.
"Thank you so much for keeping our surroundings safe. The monsters have been getting particularly agitated recently so we need as much help as we can get," She explained and sighed before shaking her head in worry but spoke no further. The abrupt pause made you turn to see Verr looking up the stairs behind you. She looked up to see a certain male disappearing behind the staircase as soon as he was spotted, causing her to chuckle as you followed her gaze.
"Was Xiao just here?" You asked and turned back to look at her as she nodded, a gentle smile still on her features.
"Thank you so much for convincing him to go to the festival, by the way. It really means a lot to me that he has found the courage to attend at least once." You smiled at her words and waved a hand in front of your face.
"It was nothing. I just hope he doesn't change his mind."
"Don't worry. I'll make sure he arrives in the city. Speaking of which- don't you think you should invite your friends from Mondstadt to join you?" Your smile dropped in an instant as you turned your head to look outside but Verr continued, "You have talked so much about wanting them to join you and now that the time has come, you don't seem to even remember about them."
Whether she chose to ignore your obvious disinterest to discuss this topic or truly didn't notice, she was determined to help you contact your friends again. You didn't blame her; you couldn't. You never told her the entire story, after all, so she was unaware of the struggles that forced you to travel once more.
"They're too busy to attend," You stated and took the bag of mora from on top of the desk before beginning to walk away.
"You still have time to deliver the message, just in case," She yelled so you could hear her properly as you walked out with a sigh. Now back in the elevator, you looked out once more and stuffed the mora in your backpack. It would take you around five more hours to reach Liyue Harbor and settle in for the day so you began making your way back.
Go back to Mondstadt to invite them over here for the festival? There is no way I have the courage to do that.
You sighed to yourself as you exited the elevator and jogged lightly out of the area and towards the city, making sure not to encounter any monsters for an easier journey.
"Finally," You pushed your hair back as you walked up the staircase leading to Katheryne's station to collect your compensation for today's commissions. As you reached the desk, she turned to you and spoke up before you could greet her.
"Traveler, Ad Astra Abyssosque. I have been waiting for your arrival." You tilted your head as you stood in front of her. She brought out an envelope and placed it on the wooden table between you two as she stared at you with no further explanation.
"Uh, what is this for?"
"Could you deliver this letter to the Mondstadt Katheryne? It is an important message and must be delivered as soon as possible. It should be fine if you leave tomorrow, though, since it is already almost nighttime." With her hands intertwined in front of her torso, as usual, she answered in her monotonous tone. You stared at her, eyes wide from the shock of such a coincidence.
"Is this a joke?" You asked, not caring if she understood the meaning behind your words.
"Sorry, traveler, but it would not make a funny joke if it was one." With a shake of her head, she dismissed the idea without hesitation.
"Why do you have to deliver this suddenly? Why not any other day?"
"The guild cannot divulge much information but since you are a valuable member, all I can tell you is that this is related to the lantern rite and the involvement of treasure hoarders."
"You know, the last time I had such an assignment, it turned out to be false." The memories of your work in Mondstadt flashed in your mind as you relayed your experience. A sudden rush of chill ran down your spine and you turned your gaze to the ground contemplating your decisions right then and there.
When you looked up once more, Katheryne had her head tilted as she scanned your expression. With her intent gaze, you rolled your eyes and snatched the envelope from the table and began stomping away as the robotic girl spoke up to stop you.
"Traveler, your compensation for today's commissions is still left!"
---
"Why do I get the feeling they are scheming against me?" You muttered to yourself as the sun rose from behind the hills while you walked past the Dawn Winery, finally having made your way to the last city you wanted to be in. To avoid pushing this task back any longer, you had set out on the journey the same day you were given the letter.
As you gulped down a few sips of water from your bottle, you looked up at the mansion, remembering your days spent here, as you walked down the dirt path that led closer to the main city. Tingles ran through your body as if they were pinching you on your arms and legs while you continued your journey. At this rate, you weren't sure if it was due to the fatigue or your uneasiness at coming back.
It had been quite a while since you thought about Mondstadt, not because you didn't want to but because you simply hadn't found the time to look back. The moment you stepped in Liyue Harbor, you were met with many interesting people who had made you forget about your pain. With time, that pain only ended up becoming somewhat of a fond memory that made you grow stronger.
I might have to thank Kaeya for that one.
You chuckled to yourself as you picked up your pace, feeling your steps lighter than before. You trudged on and finally saw the walls towering above the ground and standing tall to protect the citizens from danger. Your lips pressed together in a tight grip as you walked over the bridge, your hand running along the railing as you got closer to the knights guarding the front gate.
"Swan, Lawrence," You greeted with a bow of your head as they bowed back.
"You're back, traveler!" Lawrence cheered as he looked up with a smile, making you smile back at both of them.
"For a little while, yes." With the brief conversation, you finally stepped within the visual boundaries of the city of freedom and looked around the familiar buildings. Your shoulders slumped at the sight, and you walked over to the Adventurer's Guild station to greet Katheryne.
"Hello, there," You spoke as you stepped up to the desk and leaned over it, smiling at the person who had guided you for your first few days.
"Traveler, you've finally arrived." She turned to you fully with her hands cupped at her torso, as usual. Of course, she had been expecting you. The Katherynes around the nations somehow seemed to communicate telepathically. Then why the need to send each other mysterious letters?
"The Liyue Katheryne wanted me to deliver this to you. I assume you already know about that, though." With a shrug, you placed the envelope on the table and slid it over to her as she took it in her hands with a nod.
"Naturally," She mentioned while she opened the letter slowly and glanced at it before looking up at you. "You have begun to understand concepts out of others' reach."
"Traveling around can do that to you," You sighed and pushed yourself off the desk to hear your name get called out.
"Y/N! Where have you been?" You turned around at the yell only to get tackled in a tight hug by a figure clad in red. After getting over your initial shock, you wrapped your arms around the person when you noticed the familiar bunny ears on their head.
"Amber," You mumbled and melted in the embrace, closing your eyes as you let yourself lose to the bliss of feeling at home.
"You left without saying anything. Do you have any idea how much that hurts?" She muttered into your shoulder, her left cheek definitely squished against it, and tightened her grip around you.
"I'm so sorry," Your gaze turned to the ground as you let your hands wander to grab her face so you could look at her. "But I'm back for a while and I'll make it up to you!" Her face lit up slightly as she relaxed and nodded.
"Oh, I was about to go to the headquarters. You have to come and meet everyone!" You wanted to say no immediately as your first instinct but then remembered that you had to extend the invitation to Master Jean, anyway.
"Alright, but I won't stay long." With a reluctant smile, you let yourself get dragged by the hyperactive outrider. As you walked up a set of stairs, the girl ahead of you turned to look at you with a small smile.
"Hey, you still didn't answer to me back there. Why did you leave without telling us?" Her eyes crinkled as her lips quivered, the corners of them turning downward.
"I think you should've asked Kaeya that." You looked away, feeling a weird sensation after saying his name after months. "He was the last one to see me."
"But," Amber started, her eyes wide as she stared in front of her. "He never said anything about that." Her grip on your hand tightened in a gentle grip as she sped up, giving you no time to react and ending up getting yanked to run after her. "No worries, we'll ask him about it right now. He's in the headquarters!" She determined with a firm tone as you entered the building and walked straight into Jean's office.
"Amber, you should've knocked first! We're sorry, Master Jean!" You bowed immediately as Amber gasped before following you closely and bending her upper body like you.
"Y/N?" You looked up at the breeze-like voice to see Kaeya and Lisa standing beside Jean's desk, while the Dandelion Knight, herself, sat on her chair. You stared at each of them in silence and straightened yourself.
"Hello, everyone." You waved your hand, feeling yourself shake with hesitance as you smiled an uncomfortable smile at them.
"Is that really all you have to say, darling?" Lisa broke the momentary silence with ease and shook her head in disappointment. "After leaving without so much as a goodbye, you return and give us a measly wave," She continued as she stepped closer to you and grabbed you by the shoulders, pulling you into her to give you a motherly hug.
"I'm sorry. I know I should've said something, but sudden plans popped up and I just... had to leave. But, I plan to go with a proper farewell this time." You pulled away to look at her in the eyes and then turned to Jean, who was now standing in front of her desk. Finally, your gaze met Kaeya's. Letting go of your previous reservations, you gave him a small smile, and his eye widened at the gesture before returning to its previous shape as he smiled back a small one as well.
"Oh? Are you not here to stay once more?" Jean chimed in, her arms crossed in front of her as she tilted her head. With your attention to her now, you could only shake your head as you looked at the floor.
"Then, are you here to visit us?" You turned to Amber as she jumped in delight, her eyes showing sparkles at last. Even as you explained to them the reason for arriving in Mondstadt, Kaeya remained quiet the entire time, observing you with his watchful eye as he kept his arms at his hips.
"Lantern Rite, you say?" The man you had been treated silently by spoke and placed his hand on his chin, a gloomy expression forming on his face. Upon a look at his face, you could assume what he was thinking about at the mention of the festival.
"Yes, my friend in Liyue was very keen on sending me all the way back so I could invite you. I'd love to see you there too, of course. But I also understand if you all are busy." With a brief glance at everyone in the room, you folded your arms and waited for their response.
"We'd love to be there!" Amber clasped your hands in hers as she beamed at you. "But first, we have an important matter to discuss. Captain Kaeya, you have some explaining to do." With her hands on her hips, she frowned at the blue-haired male, who looked at the smaller girl in confusion.
"I was told by a certain someone that you were the last person to see Y/N before they left for Liyue. What did you do?" You tried to hold your laughter and ended scoffing at the question as you turned to the accused, interested to see how he would handle the question.
"Ah, so that's what this is about," He mused and tilted his head to look at you. You, on the other hand, tightened your lips in a smirk and broke eye contact with him as you swayed your upper body. "Could I talk to them before I tell you the entire story?" Not waiting for Amber to respond, he sauntered to you and offered his hand.
"If he doesn't tell you, I will," You reassured before placing your hand in his palm and letting him lead you outside Jean's office and on a stroll outside of the headquarters.
"You haven't even been here a day and you're already causing trouble for me, huh," He chuckled before letting go of your hand gently and placing his own behind him to intertwine them. "I'm surprised you haven't yelled at me yet." He turned his gaze to look in front of him as you tilted your head at him, confusion in your eyes gone unnoticed.
"Why would I yell at you?" With a little chuckle, you shrugged, causing him to look back in your direction. "I mean, I don't know why you did what you did, but... I think it was for the best." A small smile made its way on your lips as you stared ahead with a distant look in your eyes. "Plus, it's not like I'm one to hold a grudge for a long time. That's never necessary."
The bright rays of the sun shone down on both of you as you strolled down the set of stairs in front of the headquarters. You kept your gaze on the steps as you slowly descended but had an idea of what Kaeya looked like at the moment.
"So, you don't feel the slightest bit of anger towards me?" He exhaled a shaky breath when you shook your head.
"Kaeya, were you that worried about it?" He remained silent so you turned around to see him standing still with a hand on his chest. You two stood on the higher ground that let you see the market in Mondstadt, but neither of you was focused on the bustling city. The captain's confidence had wavered, and for the first time, you saw him show any emotion other than his flirtatious self.
"My apologies, it isn't like me to act in such a way." He shook his head and smiled a gentle one at you, his hand still on his chest. "I have just been wondering if I could have done something better. You did leave in a hurry, after all." A deep chuckle escaped from the depth of his throat as his gaze turned back to the ground.
"Please, don't worry about it. I know I acted prematurely that day, but I've been thinking quite a lot about what I did. I think what you did was probably for the best. I feel like I have... never been happier." A genuine smile appeared as you looked back up at him to see his gaze lingering on you.
"I mean, I don't know why I stopped travelling. It's been so much fun, and I have only been to Liyue. There is so much more for me to explore," You moved your hands around as to express your excitement and finally looked at Kaeya once you were done to see him smirking down at you.
"Sorry," You muttered and rubbed the back of your neck as you breathed out a nervous chuckle.
"Please, by all means, continue- I'd like to hear what you have been doing."
"We'll be here all night, then." You sighed before placing your hands on your hips. "Anyway, despite everything that has happened, I would like it if you can make it to Lantern Rite. Plus, just because I left does not mean our promise to watch it together does not stand anymore."
"Ah, is that how it works?" He pretended to think to himself, keeping his eye still on you to look for your reactions.
"You're not gonna be mean and turn me down again, are you?" You pouted and tilted your head in dissatisfaction.
"You think I would go that far?" He placed his hand on his chest, only this time, to feign being hurt.
"Do you want me to answer honestly?" You leaned forward as a means to challenge him and looked at him, mischief shining in your eyes.
"My, my, I see how it is. Very well, then, I will definitely have to prove you wrong and be there for the festival. Don't you think?"
"We'll see about that." With your arms crossed, you shifted your weight on one leg and looked up at him in confidence.
"I can't guarantee that Master Jean will be able to make it, though. She has been quite busy lately and barely has time for herself."
"I expected that much. People here ask too much of her." You shrugged and rubbed your temple as the bluenette nodded in response, feeling terrible in place of the Acting Grand Master.
"When do you plan on leaving?" He asked suddenly, making you wrap your fingers around your chin.
"Well, I was planning to leave shortly after inviting you."
"Surely, you can afford a change of plans. Just for today," He offered, the corners of his lips lifting up slightly. "How about a few drinks to celebrate your arrival tonight? We can invite the others if you'd like." You let out a little laugh at his offer, looking up at him with a knowing look.
"I think it's only fair that I treat you to something as a way of apologizing, no? We have quite a lot to catch up on." With his last justification, he looked at your expression for any change.
"Only if you promise to come to visit Liyue during the Lantern Rite." A little chuckle escaped his lips as he looked at the ground for a brief moment before making eye contact with you.
"You have a deal," He said, bringing his hand forward to shake yours.
"Perfect." With your hand in his, you two smiled at each other and began walking back to the headquarters. Silence took over the two of you as you indulged in the calm breeze during the walk back.
Perhaps, you had nothing to worry about; you thought to yourself as you turned your head to look at the captain once more. His serene expression only confirmed the thought, as both of you finally felt at peace with each other.
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gendice · 6 years
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(1) oh honey I feel your struggle. I'm a writer in this fandom too and like... I KNOW my stuff is good. I know it. And I have spent MONTHS on fics before only to post them to a lukewarm reception. It sucks because there are so many factors. So many! Posting time vs timezones, how many followers you have, the off chance of a popular blog reblogging it.. etc. And the most frustrating thing is sometimes I'll get a good reception on one website but NONE on another site, for the exact same fic!
The unfortunate thing is that’s just kinda .. how it is. It blows dude like fandom artists don’t really have to face that? The barrier to entry for them is so much lower I think. I’ve been writing for a very long time and I’ve sort of come to terms now with the fact that sometimes a story is just only going to get so many likes/comments/etc. Even when I think it deserves more or even when I feel like I haven’t gotten back nearly as much as I poured into it in the end I just try to remember that I’m writing for me more than anyone else. Everything I write makes me a better writer, so even if I post a fic and it only gets half the notes I’d hoped for, I’m still glad to have written it and put it out there. I’m still glad for the people who did read it and love it. I’m not trying to be preachy or anything, its just hard watching you struggle over something I’ve also struggled with for so very very long :/
Even established writers struggle with this! Like, I have a fic on ao3 that’s got 1000+ kudos and yet the Tumblr post for it slipped completely under the radar with few notes. You just can’t predict the whims of the internet sometimes. The only thing you can do when you’re sad about the reception of a story is to keep writing. The more you write the bigger you audience grows!! It’s the only constant that’s stayed with me from fandom to fandom. If you just keep writing, the readers will come.
sorry for the wall of text!! I really thought your story was lovely, and had a unique style to it. I hope you keep on writing no matter what, from one writer to another. Don’t be discouraged :)
hhhh h h ok i don’t want to discredit artists bc i know they spend a lot of time and effort on their works too but i think it’s easier for them to get notes/reception bc their works are visual and people can see what it is at a glance and decide whether they like it or not instead of having to spend actual time reading a bunch of words lol 
but anyway you’re right and logically i DO know there are plenty of factors to how well a fic will be received but also i can’t help but worry that it’s my fault that they’re doing so poorly?? i worry that the content that im putting out isn’t what people want to see which is the reason why my fics do so badly and, idk, i want to know what im doing wrong and what i can do to make it better but i just can’t? im not trying to say that my fics are better than those that get more hits/kudos but i can’t help it when i look at some more popular fics and i try to study them but i dont get what people like about them so much?? sorry this just makes me sound like a jackass but it’s probably just personal preference and mine being so different from the majority of the fandom’s which is also why i can’t write stuff that people like 
god i know everyone says that you should write for yourself and part of me does which is why i stick so closely to the style that i do but also it’s just,, numbers in the form of hits/kudos/notes serve as affirmation that my stuff is good, and it’s the only thing my flimsy-ass self esteem can rely on because i absolute hate hate h a t e the stuff that i make sometimes and i doubt myself so much all the time so when i see that a fic does well, it tells me that hey this isnt so bad, but when i see a fic flop it’s like, confirmation that my stuff stinks big time which is. its a sucky feeling. i know it’s not good to have that kind of mentality but it’s just the way that i am??? lets be real here like i can say in confidence that im a thirsty bitch and i do want people to read and like and kudos my stuff and my self esteem gets kicked repeatedly every time my fics flop so. h yea h 
honestly if it werent for my followers on here (sorry 2 everyone) and me shoving my fics in their faces i probably wont even get more than 100 hits on my fics lol and i feel kind of bad bc a part of me wants to deserve the hits and kudos that i get instead of having them just bc i kept yelling at my followers about my fics (i kind of feel like those people who would hold up the news and yell hear ye in medieval times or whatever) but. idk im conflicted cos i know this is one kind-of efficient way to get people to notice my fics. but part of me feels Bad when i do so too but idk. its also bc of this that i refuse to tag people or ask them directly to rb my fic posts bc i’d feel really guilty and ashamed and i don’t want to use people in that way?? and i’m not close friends with a lot of people on here either especially popular content creators so honestly i don’t think a lot of writers/blogs with large followings would rb my fic posts either so basically im just fucking myself over lol 
god sorry im ranting and i know i don’t technically have a right to bitch so much since as i’ve said before 1) my stuff isn’t as good as some other people who i know face this same problem and honestly deserve so much more attention for their works and 2) i havent even been writing for that long so i really am not allowed to complain but hh h h idk i just get super frustrated over this i cant help it
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