#the struggles of finding aether too pretty and wanting to do everything for him is too strong.....

[viaetor]

nyello !! i've updated my carrd, please check it out when u have the time! i updated some of my guidelines (small things, mostly abt my activity, the most important stuff is on the left) and my about + verses pages. i still have some things to adjust and i need to make an updated version of my shipping tier list, but that's for future me to struggle with AJSDKGJM ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

#❛ㅤ𓆩✦𓆪ㅤ:ㅤooc﹔ㅤㅤ/ㅤㅤchaos and aether simpery. #it's all looking so pretty i'm so satisfied #i also wanna like. #lowkey change my icon border + psd #the struggles of finding aether too pretty and wanting to do everything for him is too strong..... #also i wanna see if i can !! make small descriptions for my mains and their muses + our rels ;;;;;; they deserve the world #kicks carrd in the face. hate that u have elements limit so damn much. bitch

[jinkicake]

Struggling to breathe 😫 I saw this edit on Tiktok about how the wanderer doesn’t remember his past and I am HERE FOR IT like scaramouche just waking up to nahadia and traveler taking care of him and confused why everyone is so jumpy around him. “ did I do something wrong before I woke up?” Like lmao he’s getting a little frustrated bc traveler wouldn’t tell him about his past and tbh name either like it’s not even you were bad it’s the archons SUCK😬 like Imazuma? We don’t know her!🥰 but it was getting spicy bc he confesses his feelings and imagine if he finds out about himself afterwards 😮‍💨 like me personally I’m not wasting that opportunity; personally he can take that frustration out on me if he wants to😌 these 5”5 men have been running loose in my head for far too long. Like I said I like albedo as a JOKE and now he’s everywhere I look like pls sir I need a BREAK!! I had a dream a while ago about his hands and I have still not recovered 😔 like I went to sleep thinking “ I bet his hands are soft” and then he was there🙂 like I was drawing something? And he wanted to hold my hand and I mentioned that they would probably feel nice without his gloves and I was right; they were so warm and soft but bc he’s a little shit he would just touch my shoulder or waist randomly and smile when I get surprised🫠 like his hands felt worn but they were really soft and warm and the tops of them had little scars all over them bc he probably gets hurt in his lab a lot. Idk what it is but they put crack in the men from Khaenri'ah. Like kaeya, albedo, dain(aether by proxy) they’re all got asf and I would let them mistreat me any day😌 Albedo and scaramouche together tho would be a lot bc scara likes to push the limits and albedo will comply for science like you can’t look to him for help bc he will give you the coldest most uncaring gaze and not even show a drop of sympathy. “You can take a bit more can’t you?” I HATE HIM!! like I’m any pair he’s just there to make the situation worse😔 kaeya? He’s gunna hold you down and tell you to stop squirming so kaeya can go deeper

EEEK? LIKE SCARA FORGETS HE TRIED TO KILL THE TRAVELER? wait,,, why is that so genius. that's so good like the thought of him falling for the traveler without knowing what he did in the past and WHEN he finally finds out everything (and he finds out the traveler all knew about it-)-

yeahhhh... i think that could ensue some hate sex, some betrayal sex, some crying scara.... what could be better than that??? take advantage of it!!!

omg you had a dream and saw albedo?? im so jealous... T T if i ever went to sleep and had a dream about kaeya, oh id never wake up! but i know that pile of clay has the softest hands ever like he looks like he'd take really good care of himself hygiene wise! he'd have really pretty hands, and now im drooling!

yeah khaenriah men are peak, i don't make the rules they literally have kaeya and pierro... every other man is irrelevant.

O.M.G. imagine scara fucking you while albedo watches and takes notes for his 'research' like he'll let the puppet just do whatever he wants,,, it's all in the name of science! you'd have daily labs where scaramouche just pushes you as hard as he can (my fav psycho!!) and albedo jots it all down in veryyyy heavy detail!

id fuck kaeya any day of the week btw, backwards AND upside down so likeeee you don't even have to get me to say 'yes' to partake in that bc the answer is automatic!!!

also.. you and i.... we can't keep letting these 5'5 men win... we simply can't. let's move on as a society (i say while farming for scara heheheh)

#sarahandoikawatalkshit #xiaos spicy almond tofu #kinda lol

[higone-byegone]

Cracks

Uh, hi. I wrote some WoLfic? To make an in-canon justification for my fanta addic-- I mean, for why my main boy has gone from Hellsguard Roe to a Viera lad and seems to be sticking with it. It is heavy spoilers all the way to patch 6.4 and plays heavily with nightmares and body horror, including eye trauma, so... maybe click at your own risk, if you have a care to read it.

I’m mostly just slapping it here so I can find it later and share with the handful of people who are familiar with my lad!

Look at what you've done to your aether! It's a mess! And you have cracks running all through that pretty soul of yours.

It's been a year.

A year, since Bygone's return from the First, and he still hears the sound of splintering glass when he sleeps. His nightmares change, of course. Some nights his head is filled with bright white, with light so thick that it seeps from the eyes of the people around them before their bodies are ripped apart into something else. Other times, it isn't the light that tears them apart, and he watches the people he cares about become engulfed in shadow, everything they once were vanishing into dust as nothing but their despair remains, monstrous and ravening. There are many notable nights where he dreams of dragging a body that isn't his own through the snow, desperate to survive just long enough to keep the man who is wearing his skin, a grotesque puppet with a smile that has no business on his lips, from using his stolen body to kill those he loves.

Some nights all he dreams of is the vast expanse of space above him, uncountable stars in a sunless sea, not knowing which one is home as his heart slows and his body struggles, and fails, to live on.

When he wakes, he fights. He fights the blasphemous final remnant of what once had been his mother, and adds another nightmare to the repertoire. Now he finds himself waking in a cold sweat, shaken and faced with that fresh pain night after night. The knowledge that she couldn't have been saved stirs in his heart like a hurricane. He never gets his closure. What had once made her the person he'd wanted so badly to make proud had been gone since well before he'd gotten word that the Final Days had reached her, too.

He keeps fighting.

He travels to another Shard, another doomed world, this one so broken and poisoned by its own aether that even the Ascians so desperate to rejoin it to the Source had given it up as lost. But he's doing it for a friend, doing it in the hope that somebody else's loved one, somebody else's family can still be saved, all the while relying on his Blessing to protect him from a darkness so deep that even the greatest creations of the Alchemists of Thavnair and the gifted scales of Vrtra struggle to ward it away.

They fight and they triumph and they fight and they triumph and they fight and victory is just within their grasp.

Until it isn't.

And the dreams change again.

And the sound of shattering glass rings louder with each night he continues to fight, and when morning comes, he can see the cracks etched on his skin where he'd been carved apart with a scythe's blade at the end of the universe itself. He covers them with armor and a reassuring smile and wears a patch over his left eye, to obscure what's taken its place there since.

"It adds a bit of danger, don't you think?" he jokes when G'raha asks, as they're readying their equipment so he can run into battle against the gods themselves. "Kids will love it."

What he means is that it won't frighten them. The children that place their hope in the Warrior of Light. An eyepatch is a piece of clothing to them, a fun prop, and they know Bygone fights with the Maelstrom. The children of Vylbrand delight in it. The Warrior of Light is a pirate! Just like the Admiral used to be!

The eyepatch only works for a week, only works until the glow of his ruined eye begins to seep out around the corners. And then he wraps his head with leather straps, jokes that it's a blinder to help his aim when he fights, and the Scions don't laugh with him even though his grin is flawless, perfected under the pressure of having to be The Hero all these years.

Estinien, especially, does not seem to appreciate the joke.

Bygone has been blind in that eye since Nidhogg used Estinien's own hand to gouge it from his face, after all.

He dreams of horrors he's never seen, now. They begin in the First, with a great, rolling wave of Light. He watches, he struggles, he tries for all his worth to stop it, but he's pulled away, forced to stay behind as his comrades fall in service to their world, giving their very souls to stop the flood. He dreams of walking for a hundred years, feeling his soul begin to become unspun, his sense of self becoming more and more thin with each passing, blinding day. Unable to touch. Unable to speak to those around him. He's a ghost in a world bathed in light.

Until the dream splinters. Until Ardbert's grasp on his soul slips just slightly and Bygone knows in that moment that Ardbert is still there holding the disparate pieces of him together, his soul fragmented more now in the wake of the Final Days than it had ever been. It's exhausting for his counterpart from the First, but he's given up his everything for the world entire before. He can do this, he can hold together the splinters of a broken soul so that somebody can continue to stand in defense of the reflections themselves. He has to.

Shattered glass and blinding light.

And then he's running on fleet feet through the woods, his bow at his back and a child in his arms as the wind howls viciously behind them, as it tears trees into splinters with the ease of a breath coaxing dandelion clock to drift into the sky, and in his final moment he wraps himself around his baby and prays that the spirits of those who have become the wind are gentle with his daughter, knowing with a stone of dread deep in his soul that there is nothing gentle left in the world anymore. It has all become the hunger of the storm. A lifetime of a mere two centuries is blown out in the wind like the flame of a candle.

The glass splinters again, and when the white resolves into a world around her, it's with an ear-splitting roar, the levin rolling over the mountains like a beast with a million reaching arms, frenetic and desperate and slavering for more of the world, and she stands her ground, her hand clutching to a sword and her shield strapped to her arm, holding it up between the lightning and her companions. The crackle rings through her ears, she's traveled the world over and she's never seen the like of this, and she knows that this is her final moment. She dies to the sound of thunder.

Another, and he's being torn apart in a tornado of flame as the world burns around him. Another, and the ground itself is opening up to swallow them as the mountains rise to the heavens in a world gone dry. Again, and she's going to be brave, she's got a stick in her hand and she's holding her ground against the creeping frost with all the courage her seven years of life can muster. Again, and he's drowning, dragging anyone he can reach toward the light, less and less certain that the surface of the water is even above them as the kingdom falls below them into the depths. Another splinter, and he falls to his knees, hands grasping tightly to his cane, and he's gasping for breath as the darkness seeps into his body, filling his mouth, his lungs, ripping himself away from himself...

He awakes with a scream in his throat to a room illuminated in white in the middle of the night. He can feel it, now more than he ever could, the way Ardbert is trying to gather the disparate pieces of the core of his soul, trying to hold them all together even as each fragment struggles and screams and tries to shake free of the nightmare that led to this.

They are Arcas, not the sum total of what he was, but more than they've been since they walked in the world that came before, and for a time, they were content with what they had become.

They lived a thousand lifetimes in this new skin, and occasionally they became a little bit more.

But there were always seams. Of course there were. Each shard had healed in its own time, grafted to the soul they had been drawn to like limbs on a tree, and together they had become something that had thought itself to be whole. It felt... right... when they became one with those who had been here before, but each one remembered. Somewhere deep within their heart, they knew who they were. They all remembered standing against the flood at the end of the world.

He stumbles out of bed, and his nightmares of the First manifest right there in his bedroom as liquid light hits the floor in luminous splatter from cracks creeping across his skin where lethal wounds had recently healed. It paints a starscape underfoot as he stumbles into the hallway, looking for anybody who might help. It's late, but he can see his way clearly through his one good eye - the other is bleeding thick rivulets of light like those poor damned bastards in the First, adding to the mess on the floor.

He hears footsteps running at the sound of his scream, following the sound of his heavy, staggering footfalls, and he thinks with some morbid fascination as he watches his husband running toward him down the hallway that the lighting down this corridor has never been so bright.

And then he collapses.

He doesn't dream. Or, when he does, he isn't wading through a storm of nightmares. He sees himself in a void that he's stood in a dozen times before, darkness with an aurora of blue, and the eight others who are standing with him all wait by his side for words they know aren't coming.

"Hear," he murmurs under his breath. "Feel. Think."

They look his way, and he expects to see their faces, but the radiance of this place is long gone and they all stand just out of reach of the glow he's putting off, each a silhouette of a lifetime he never lived. There are hands on his shoulders and he looks back to see Ardbert, apology in his smile.

He looks... tired.

"It was never meant to come to this, old friend," he says, and when Bygone opens his mouth Ardbert's hand reaches up to stop him from speaking. "No, don't you dare apologize. Your fight wasn't over yet. Mine was, and I gladly allowed this to become my mantle to bear." He smiles, crooked and handsome in the face of a Hume who had lived through too much already, lived through more after his own death than most ever did in life. "You gave us quite a fright when you died, you know." A pause. "And then died again. And again. I'd ask what you thought you were doing, fighting that nightmare to the death a few times over when you were already wounded that way, but I don't think a single one of us wouldn't have done the same."

The silhouettes seem to nod their agreement. Bygone nods back, tiredly.

"But," Ardbert smiles wryly, "and I suppose I don't have to tell you of all people this, we were already breaking apart, weren't we? When I stepped in to hold you together. When I asked if you could take one more step. And that monster and his pet Ascian didn't make that any easier, ripping us all out and shoving us into the skin of someone who could barely hold us."

Bygone closes his eyes and bows his head.

Everything seems brighter with his eyes shut, somehow.

That probably isn't a good sign.

"What happens if I shatter?"

"We don't know," Ardbert admits. "Whatever it is, it can't be good. The concentrated aether of five Lightwardens, all spilling out into the Source at once? We only barely stopped the Flood in my own world. Bringing it to yours... well. I'm not going to try to make that mistake twice."

Bygone exhales, an attempt at a laugh that has him stumbling to his knees, choking on it, drowning in it, watching it bleed from his splintered flesh and feeling it running down his chin. Ardbert's arms wrap around him again. His hands reach to staunch the bleeding wherever it flows most freely. And he offers, "We need to hold on to it just a little longer. All of us. Before you break. Maybe there's a way to safely be rid of it, a way we have yet to find. But for now the Source is only safe so long as her Warrior of Light lives to contain it."

"I'm not doing a very good job of that, am I?"

"Not particularly." Ardbert's words aren't unkind, but they sting all the same. "I'm sorry, my friend. Your body's not having a good time of it." He frowns. "They're trying, though. Right this moment, they're trying to pull you together again. Your husband, I mean. But I think they know. There's not enough of you left to stitch back together."

"Maybe there doesn't need to be."

One of the silhouettes steps forward, holding out a hand. Bygone isn't certain what he's looking at, the shape is obscured by the solid curve of the bow and quiver on the figure's back, but as he looks up, as he sees the long, tapering points atop the figure's head and reaches to grasp the small, thin hand in his own, he can't help but laugh.

"Ah."

And he nods his head, and he agrees, there's no shard better suited to containing the Light than the one who could potentially do so for centuries more.

He doesn't expect he'll wake up again.

And so it's a surprise when his eyes open and he's gazing up into the startled face of Tobi in a hallway gone far darker than it had been moments before. Their face seems to be looking him over as if trying to piece together one of a hundred possibilities for what they're seeing in that moment, and a laugh catches in his throat in spite of it all as he realizes that Tobi is stealing ever-more-confused glances toward the backrooms of the Greythorne Manor.

It's his laugh, but not his laugh, and he stifles the knee-jerk confusion of it by reaching up and pulling Tobi into a kiss, to wordlessly reaffirm that it is, in fact, him laying there on the floor in that puddle of liquid light. It's disorienting but not unwelcome, the way his new shape is so small underneath them. He's breathing easily for the first time in months, and while his eyes are open he can see the reflection of a glow in Tobi's, but it's nothing as horrifying as the bleeding white that his ruined Hellsguard eye had been.

A gentle hand reaches up to run questioningly over one of his ears, deft Highlander fingers smoothing down soft, fine fur, and Tobi hums against his mouth until Bygone lets up just long enough for them to note, "This one's new."

"No," Bygone murmurs, his accent untouched as he speaks with a voice that hasn't been his since before the dawn of the Second Umbral Era, from another world entirely. "No, this one is very, very old."

Somewhere in the back of his heart, an ancient piece of himself wraps his arms around the remaining shards of his soul right alongside Ardbert. It's a familiar gesture to this shard; the last moment of his own personal memory saw him wrapped around his daughter just the same. He smiles, and the silhouette in the shadows is illuminated by the light still perilously contained within. The silhouette holds the same shape Bygone wears now, a soft face with a warm smile, leporine ears sweeping back from atop his head, slight of frame but certain in his conviction that this is the best next step he can take to protect what remains of the world that his own world once returned to, after the storm.

He, this oldest other piece of what lived lifetime after lifetime to eventually become Bygone, gives him the memory of his body. The rest of him, his mind and his heart, remain untouched.

The shards of Azem have all had their own lives. This one is still Bygone's to live, whatever his form.

In the end, regardless of the shape his body takes, they are all Arcas.

#wolfic #cw: body horror #cw: death #cw: child death #cw: eye trauma #yeah my azem's name is arcas #you wanna know how much i shrieked at that one dungeon boss

[haila-wetyios]

For your charas: 30. Who do they most regret meeting? For you: A) Why are you excited about this character? B) What inspired you to create them?

Who do they most regret meeting?

In Haila's case, definitely the person she regrets meeting the most was a Keeper by the name of Khona'to Garanjy. There was a time when Haila actively sought people out to talk to them, and Khona'to was one such person, though for her very own reasons.

She noticed something particularly similar to herself when it came to aether signatures, and both were somehow relieved to discover the reason behind it. Haila's aether was partially corrupted after Carteneau, which attuned her to the dreadwyrm's aether, but also claimed her left eye in the process. Khonato's aether was also corrupted and attuned to the dreadwyrm, losing his right eye in the process.

Both were the perfect reflection of the other in red and blue eyes, with the only difference that Haila's condition had been the result of a natural accident, while Khonato's was the result of a controlled experiment.

Under normal circumstances, this would have created a good natured bond between the two as they held mutual curiosity with an extension to friendship towards the other.

But things didn't turn out that way. Khona'to ran a grey business, and one of the jobs he accepted turned out to be to hunt Haila down for information regarding a drug smuggled from Garlemald that she'd come accross and hid from the public.

Work is work, and no matter the refusal to cooperate, or the fact Haila pleaded him to not do that and still betting on the goodness of his heart. She was captured, dragged away and tortured with no remorse from him or his associates to the point of almost losing her sanity.

When word got out of what had been done to her, and how Haila's own people were now on the hunt for him and his company, he went as far as to throw his partner out as bait to take full responsibility for it.

Needless to say that, even though Haila wanted her revenge, she felt disgusted and sick to her core when finding out how he washed his hands off his own partner to get away with everything.

She regrets ever approaching him, and trying to find a mutual understanding of one another for the hand they'd been dealt in life.

A) Why are you excited about this character?

I've actually had an on and off struggle with Haila over excitement about her as a character. But that's mostly from my bias of being wary of lorebending or power levels just for the sake of wanting to be accepted by other RPers. Which is the wrong approach and something that takes time to come to terms with. One should write what they like regardless of what others think, and I still struggle to do that with Haila. I like her, she's been with me for a decade now as a character, but I have a hard time being more open both to myself and others about playing her the way I'd like.

I feel like a kid that is embarrassed about telling others that they still play with dolls. I have tropes and things I love but restrained myself to an unhealthy level that makes it hard for me to accept and not be wary of just doing what makes me happy. And that's not adding my own issues with my coping mechanism in life that has been affecting me far more as of late, if it's too overwhelming, just don't feel anything at all.

Haila's one of my first characters, and I have a lot of lore and stories I do hope to share more openly someday with people though. I want her to be pretty, I want her to show more confidence both ICly and from the way I write her. I just want her to be strong and happy and also adopt all the chaotic children she can without remorse that she's imposing on others for doing that.

B) What inspired you to create them?

I like covering this part every now and then lol. Haila's just a mere coincidence that took shape on her own. I didn't know about RP when I first made a Haila in XIV. I just gave her red and blue eyes as a reference to my Mabinogi character who had had a phase of dressing purely in blue or purely in red in a fox and swan aesthetic. Got white marks on both cheeks because sure why not and then got thrown out into the world as Haila Sinclair from Tiamat (JP) and then Lich (EU). Heck, Haila Wetyios was only supposed to be my Balmung "alt" after seeing a lot of people being in that server in Tumblr and slowly getting to know about RP as a whole in it. Wetyios is just the last name I liked the most from a fantasy last name generator. And when I first started her out, I literally threw in the amnesiac trope until she or myself figured out exactly what she was about.

All in all, I just like refined ladies who are still strong one way or the other (and the color red and blue).

#SORRY THIS IS SO LONG #BUT THANKS FOR THE ASK #haila wetyios #I didn't add answers for her children since this would have been three times bigger otherwise but maybe I'll do that for them later as well

[nemeseos-noctua]

THIS IS FOR AETHER AND ALBEDO PLS--

May I request for a shy S/O that wants to kiss a certain area (For Aether: his tummy, For Albedo: the spark on his neck) they're just oddly attracted to it and wanna bury their nose against it I'msosorryifthisisweirdaha :"D

𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: aether, albedo (separate) x gn!reader

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: albedo and aether might be a little ooc? does aether even have a character? also not proofread (is that even a surprise anymore)

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: once again written at 12am! 12am is writing time yall idk what to tell u

he honestly won’t notice at first... and he won’t notice until you tell him

i mean, don’t get me wrong— he’s definitely aware of the way your [e/c] eyes trail down to his stomach... and he’s definitely going to blush and look away when you do

but still! okay! he thinks you’re just, err, looking! not like, you wanted to kiss him! or anything! nope! not at all!

(aether is such a child pls why is he like this just KISS)

“Oh, [Y/N]! Paimon and I were looking for y—“ Aether tilted his head, confused as to why your eyes were avoiding him like the plague.

“... [Y/N]?” Aether repeated once more, waving his gloved hands in front of you as you cleared your throat.

“Ah, Aether! Yes, did you need anything?” You responded, still looking away from the Traveler as he raised his eyebrows.

shuffling to the side so he can stare at you fully, you kept craning your head away from him no matter how much he moved into your sight

cupping his gloved hands over your cheek, aether tilted your head to gaze into his golden orbs, its hues flickering with confusion as paimon’s barfing noises could be heard behind the blonde

“I was going to ask you if you wanted to do my commissions with me... but is something wrong?” He asked, completely oblivious to the way you struggled to not stare at the skin below his croptop... was Aether always this fine?

“Nope! Nothing at all!” You tapped the side of your thigh anxiously, waiting for Aether to let go of you— which he cautiously did.

“Okay... but if something’s wrong, be sure to tell me, okay?” Aether spoke softly, his worry sending your heart aflame as you stiffly nodded.

you felt so bad for staring at aether (even though he was your man) but PLEASE did he have to be this fine?!

you. you can literally see his abs. like. the outline. like. like, like—

anyways!

after the two of you completed your commissions and checked in for the night, you waited until paimon left to eat everything at good hunter to confess your embarrassment to aether

look. if you were gonna stare, you were at least going to make aether aware of such beliefs... because, it was kind of embarrassing otherwise

“Ah, Aether...” You looked away, edging slowly to your side of the tent as the blonde merely hummed, staring up at the roof of the tent.

“Yes?”

“Sorry.”

“Huh? For what?” The Traveler turned over to you, gazing at you in confusion as you fiddled nervously with your fingers.

“Ah... uh, for staring at you.”

Stifling a laugh, Aether merely gazed at you and all of your adorable-ness. Why were you apologizing? You were literally his s/o! 

“It’s okay, I know you didn’t mean anything of harm,” The male reassured you, a comforting smile painting his features as your mind blared the most embarrassing thought ever.

I want to kiss you. You thought.

“You can.”

“What?” You yelped, eyes wide as Aether avoided your gaze, his cheeks dusting with a blush so soft he looked like a calla lily under the dim moonlight.

“No, wait! I mean—” Covering your face with your hands, both Aether and you were short-circuiting.

if you really want to kiss his stomach, you’re going to have to tell him... cuz aether ain’t the brightest when it comes to romance cues! 

you wanna kiss him? sure! you wanna kiss his stomach? su—wait what?

“... i wanna kiss your, eh... stomach,” you manage to stifle out before faceplanting into the floor of the tent. why? why?! NANDE NANDE NANDE NANDE— (jk lol)

aether was silent. i mean, not that that’s new or anything, but you could hear crickets

“i... okay!” aether sat up, his face exploding a bright red it matched the fire outside

“no! aether! you don’t have to—“ 

pulling you into his chest, aether looked away from you, closing his eyes as if all of his embarrassment would go away

“Eh?! What the heck is going on here?!” Paimon whisper-screamed, stumbling into the tent— only to see the sight of you and Aether’s limbs tangled together, your head resting atop the blonde’s toned stomach.

“Blegh!!” The mascot rushed out of the tent, vomiting at the sight of her companion being all lovey-dovey.

Disgusting!

he’d notice you staring at his neck pretty quickly

he’s very perceptive, thanks to his alchemy and him having to observe the tiniest of elemental reactions—you staring at the star on his skin is no biggie

in all honesty, he’d find amusement in teasing you about how obvious you’re being. like, oh? you want to kiss his neck? why don’t you tell him so? 

BUT HE MEANS IT ALL LOVINGLY! 

it’s okay. just kiss him fr and he’ll shut up 🙄🙄

“Is something the matter, [Y/N]?” Albedo quipped smugly, watching your eyes avoid his as you fiddled nervously with the pencil on your table.

“Nothing.”

“Hmm... is that so?”

Finding amusement in your hesitance, Albedo resumed his studies. The hour hand of the clock seemed to move quickly—too quickly for the alchemist to comprehend. He swore the sun rose just two hours ago! What did the clock mean it was midnight?!

Sighing for the nth time, Albedo pinched the bridge of his nose, staring at the letters that scattered the pages, your figure moving like a candlelight in the peripherals of his vision. 

Tugging at the hem of his coat, the alchemist turned towards you in an uncharacteristic confusion. Albedo was so used to knowing the ins and outs of everything he laid his eyes upon—it was a part of being an alchemist— but when it came to you, it seemed as though you were some kind of unreadable book that’d take years to translate.

But perhaps, that was your charm. 

“albedo needs some sleep” you thought, getting up to usher him to bed

knowing he would decline your invitation, you mustered up the courage to do the unthinkable:

kiss his neck.

“You need some rest, Albedo,” You hummed, resting your chin on his shoulder as the alchemist swore he melted. If it were under any circumstance (if he wasn’t experimenting), he would’ve obliged in a heartbeat. But right now, he was busy! He was about to make a scientific breakthrough and—

The “I can’t,” that was about to slip from his tongue was quickly swallowed back down. 

His teal eyes widened once your lips came into contact with the star on his neck, his adam’s apple hanging right above the galactic pattern as his face exploded in a red cascade of blush. 

“Okay, I’ll go to bed first,” You shuffled to the bedroom, your footsteps clumsy from the way your mind fogged over with embarrassment, joy, content, and anxiousness.

Covering his nose and mouth with the back of his arm, Albedo straightened up—still suffering from a severe case of love.

Agh—why did you have to do this to him?

Resting his elbows on the table before him, the alchemist stared blankly at the wooden material, the redness on his face never leaving.

Just how was he going to experiment now?

— constellations!

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin headcanons #genshin scenarios #genshin imagines #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact imagines #genshin albedo #genshin aether #albedo x reader #aether x reader #albedo scenarios #albedo imagines #albedo #aether #constellarations

[aalbedo]

injured!tartaglia x reader (part 2)

part two of this

request: Hello I absolutely loved your one shot of Tartaglia helping an injured reader sdjgksjfkf if you don't mind I'd like to request a part 2 where reader asks him the story behind that big scar he pointed out? Maybe reader finds HIM injured and returns the favor and asks about his other scars while they treat his wounds?? Ahaha reader's just like "fuck I can't just leave you here to bleed out but don't you dare think this means I care for you or anything" lmao

format: two-parter (again, read part one first)

ship: tartaglia x reader

tags: fluff, reader is the traveler-ish (a completely separate character from aether and lumine, but still the traveler, does that make sense?), author forgets basic wound care halfway into the fic

warnings: blood, mildly graphic depiction of injury, stitches and needles

words: 3027

notes: hey so uhhhhhhhh i kinda went off the rails with this one, i didn't really follow the prompt in some points since uh... the part about the stories behind the scars... i kinda forgot about that... or like... eh you'll see, anyway, - banner still fucked up it will be fixed i prommy

Despite the high number of hilichurl camps, abyss mages, fatui agents, ruin hunters and ruin guards, Lisha was still one of your favorite places to explore, it was full of treasure chests to open, sweet flowers to pick and ore to mine. Plus, the atmosphere managed to still be peaceful, the open fields where the sun would shine uninterrupted for hours and hours on end were your favorite place to sit down and bask in the sunlight.

Your leg was still recovering from the tough hit you had taken a few weeks prior, which meant that you had to take more breaks while adventuring. Not that you would complain, taking breaks, putting some numbing cream on your wound, eating some reinvigorating food and drinking fresh water was just as satisfying as exploring.

After resting for about half an hour, you decided to get up, careful not to put any pressure on your injured leg. You threw your bag over your shoulder and walked north-west, towards the road to the chasm.

In the distance, you started hearing sounds of fighting, and as you got closer to them, you could see a tall figure fighting not one, but two separate ruin hunters, with a bow. It was too far away to see the person’s face, but you had half an idea of who it could be.

Then, out of nowhere, a bright purple flash, and in less than a second the ruin hunters were both on the ground, completely destroyed. Yep, it’s Tartaglia.

You thought about turning away and changing your direction before he could see you. You had already reluctantly thanked him for helping you that day, as well as paying for your medication out of his own pocket, but you still felt like you owed him a favor that you really did not want to fulfill. He was still the guy that almost destroyed Liyue, and made you fight for your life, despite everything.

Until you saw him fall to his knees, and as he turned to face your direction you could see his chest covered in blood.

You acted on instinct, ignoring your brain telling you to leave him alone, that he could tend to his own wounds, and you sprinted towards him. He may be an asshole, but you just want to avoid him, not leave him to die.

He was resting his back on a wall, head thrown back. Even from far away, you could see that he was breathing heavily. That same backpack you had seen on him the day he helped you was now sitting next to him, his left hand already rummaging through it.

His head shot up, he had definitely heard you coming towards him, his eyes widened as you kneeled down right in front of him and got a better look at his condition. You could see a cut crossing his chest, from his right shoulder to the middle of his torso, right over his heart. His grey coat was soaked in blood, as it pooled on the bend of his hips and slid down to the ground.

“So you do care about me.” he broke the silence, struggling to talk through heavy breaths and groans. He was completely out of breath, covered in blood, definitely in pain, and all he could think about was joking.

“I don’t. Just because I hate you, it doesn’t mean I want to see you dead.” You didn’t have time to get mad at him. “Also - I owe you a favor, I guess.” The only thought in your head was to help him, so you did not think twice before quickly unbuttoning his coat and undercoat and moving them out of the way.

You got a look at his chest and through the blood you could see several other scars, most of them looked years old, a few of them looked pretty large, carving his chest and abdomen. You wondered if his entire body looked like this, and why his face didn’t.

“Like what you see?” he joked again, his voice sounded hoarse, strained, very clearly struggling to talk. You sighed, couldn’t he just shut up for a minute?

You turned to your own bag to pull out anything you might need to help him. Potions, numbing cream and even a stitching kit laid next to you. You had bought the kit after that day, and started learning how to stitch wounds.

“No,” you dismissed him again. He whined quietly, you weren’t sure if it was because of your response or the wound.

All of the sudden, you felt… fear? Fear of what? Him passing out? And anger, at the fact that he wasn’t taking the situation as seriously as you were. He could easily die from this wound and all he was doing was making jokes.

You quickly started cleaning the blood with a cloth in one hand, while holding a bottle of antiseptic potion in your left, ready to pour it on top of the cut. You were being quick, passing your hand over his chest as fast as you could, trying to gather all the blood while avoiding the open skin, but there was so much of it that in mere seconds the cloth was soaked and completely useless.

You looked up at him and he was staring at the ground, his eyes completely unfocused. “Childe,” you called him and he squeezed his eyes closed, “try to stay awake.”

“Easy to say,” he muttered. At least he was awake.

You threw away the bloody cloth, and poured the antiseptic potion directly on his scar with no warning. Despite knowing that you were just helping him, a wave of guilt washed over you as you heard him cry out from the pain and throw his head back, wincing again when he hit the wall.

Half a bottle of potion and another clean cloth drenched in blood later, the wound had completely stopped bleeding, and you finally breathed out all the tension you were holding in your body.

His face, and body, were completely pale from the blood loss. His mouth was agape, eyelids half closed - looking at you, he sighed, barely letting any air out. You glared back, but by the way his head was positioned, you couldn’t help but look at his lips, the way they moved slightly every time he breathed out, they seemed so… soft, sweet. You brushed aside a thought that had snaked into your brain. His mouth curled up and he barked a laugh, but he stopped immediately and groaned again. Had he noticed that you were looking?

“Don’t laugh, it’ll hurt you,” you reminded him as you threw away the second blood drenched cloth.

“Sure,” he replied, voice still strained. “Whatever you say.”

You find a third cloth, the only clean one you had left, used some water from your bottle to make it damp and used it to wash your hands.

“Don’t talk either,” you looked at him as you opened a small glass jar containing numbing cream. “What were you thinking, being here alone and fighting two ruin guards?” He opened his mouth. “Don’t answer, you’ll tell me later.”

“I was just collecting some debts when those two attacked me.” He groaned again.

“I said, don’t talk if it hurts.” You made it clear from your tone that you were annoyed at the way that he was acting.

You dipped a couple of fingers into the cream, and hesitated before placing your bare hand on his chest, carefully placing the cream around the wound, so that he would not feel pain when you would be stitching it closed. As you got a better look at the cut, you noticed how the skin had been basically mangled, it looked like it would not be an easy recovery.

“You look like you know what you’re doing,” he pointed out, before groaning again. You were starting to wish you had taped his mouth with something.

“Because I know what I’m doing, I’m not an idiot. And you’re making me regret helping you, just shut up already.”

“Make me.”

Your hand froze over his skin. You moved your eyes back up to him, trying to decipher his expression. Was that an invitation, or just teasing? He hadn’t even tried to put on a smug face, his expression just looked tired and worn out, which made it even harder to decipher.

The longer you looked at him, the weirder it would get, you would have to do something before it got awkward and that thought from earlier slammed back into your head.

You wanted to wish you had run the other way, but the truth was that you were glad you hadn’t. Maybe it was all of the tension you had accumulated while seeing all that blood flow out of him, maybe it was the heavy lidded look he was giving you, but you placed your clean hand on the side of his face, cupping his cheek. His eyes widened, mouth parted ready to say something, but, before he could, your lips were on his.

The kiss was fast, you pulled back almost immediately and averted his gaze right away. You could feel him staring at you as you put your hand back into the jar and picked up some more cream.

“I didn’t think you would actually-” he didn’t finish the sentence.

You quickly caught a glimpse of his expression before focusing on taking care of the wound. You contained a laugh as you saw him look absolutely dumbfounded and flustered, he had seriously been rendered completely speechless by what could barely be considered a kiss. If he hadn’t lost that much blood that day, his cheeks would definitely be red.

Honestly, you couldn’t believe what had happened either. You couldn’t believe you had even done it. You could’ve just laughed it off and kept medicating him in silence. But you were glad that you didn’t.

Neither of you uttered a word for a while, and even though the atmosphere wasn’t explicitly awkward, you wished he would say something. After a thick layer of numbing cream and several minutes of silence, you finally gathered the courage to look back at him. He was clearly pretending to look away, as if he hadn’t spent the entire time looking at you working.

“Is the pain gone? Can I stitch it now?” Your voice came out unexpectedly soft. You touched the skin around the wound, waiting to get a reaction from him.

His head snapped back to face you, and he nodded. “Can’t feel a thing,” he said as he touched his own chest. “I can stitch it though, if you wa- Ah!” He lifted his right arm, the injured one, and immediately stopped mid-air, “fuck- shit, not this,” he almost yelled.

“You ripped a tendon.” You gently took his right arm, putting it back down for him, and looked at his shoulder. “I’ll stitch it, don’t worry - I’ve learned.”

He didn’t say anything, and you took it as permission. You opened the kit you had bought at Bubu pharmacy weeks prior: recurved needle, thread and tweezers. You could feel Tartaglia’s gaze on you as you struggled passing the thread through the needle, but in the end you managed to do it.

As you hovered over the wound, your gaze fell on a large scar, the one that would normally be visible from over his coat on his neck, and it went down over the left side of his body down until his hip. It looked pretty old, but it was still very visible.

“Can I ask you… how did you get that?”

“Mh?”

You pointed at the scar with your pinkie and slightly traced over it, “this scar, what happened?”

He followed your finger with his gaze, and kept his eyes on the scar even as you moved back to the still open wound. “Oh, that?” You passed the needle through the skin and pulled it out on the other side. “I was 14.”

You saw some blood trickle from the cut as you carefully pulled the thread and passed the needle through one more time. By the way he had spoken, you felt like he was going to continue talking, so you didn’t interrupt.

“Uhm, when I was 14, I-” you heard him pass his tongue over his lips, “the Abyss, you know.” You nodded quietly as you passed the needle through a few more times.

“You don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want to,” you reassured him, you knew that it was a pretty sensitive topic, or at least you imagined it would be. You stitched a few more loops with ease, getting progressively more comfortable with what you were doing.

“It’s fine, I- I was in-” his voice was starting to shake the slightest bit, but you noticed the change of tone in his voice.

You finally reached the end, and you cut the thread, tying it tightly at the end. You put the needle and the tweezers back into their container.

“I had to fight this… huge- and when-” once you looked up at him, you realized how lost in thought he was, looking at his scar, unable to take his eyes off it, he was probably getting some flashbacks. “I-” his voice cracked, his lower lip trembled ever so slightly, and you could not bear it anymore. Without even thinking about it, you grabbed the side of his face and dragged him in for an actual, proper kiss.

He fell right into it and reciprocated immediately, placing his left hand on the side of your waist. It was sweet, and tender, and you got a better feel of what his lips were like: just as soft as they looked.

You pulled back first once again, and as you got to look at his surprised face, eyebrows raised and everything, your mind started racing. You had just kissed not just a Fatui, not just a Harbinger, but the Harbinger that had tried to kill you, that manipulated you and that nearly destroyed Liyue for the second time. And he was sitting in front of you looking like an idiot.

You couldn’t figure out what you were feeling, but there was something going on deep in your chest, and stomach.

“This doesn’t mean anything,” you quickly clarified before he could say anything. “Neither of them do, they were just to shut you up.”

“Were they?” he asked. And just like that, he came full circle back to the false smugness.

You really, really did not want to think about the weird feeling that was growing in your stomach. “Look at what I got from Baizhu.” From your bag, you pulled out a thick strip made out of cotton and a small vial full of Slime concentrate.

“You’re avoiding the question.”

“What do they mean to you?” you bit back, waiting to see if he would face the question himself, or back out like a hypocrite.

“What did you get from Baizhu?”

You both chuckled, and you noticed his bare chest rising and falling back down as he laughed. “He said it’s a new type of bandaging, you use slime concentrate to stick it to the skin.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “I don’t love the sound of that, actually.”

“I was skeptical too the first time I tried it, but trust me - it’s much more comfortable.” You heard him sigh in defeat as you already spread some of the slime condensate over the strip, and set down the half empty vial. “It won’t hurt.”

“Do you promise?”

He looked into your eyes with a relaxed expression, you looked right back. “I promise,” you replied with a kind smile, before turning your attention to the strip and stuck it over the wound, carefully placing it so that it would cover the entire cut.

“All done,” you said as you started getting up, but you felt a hand grabbing your arm, another one grabbing the side of your face, and tugging you back down, and before you could realize it your lips were once again on Tartaglia’s.

You couldn’t help but reciprocate the kiss, his lips were still soft, and at that point you felt like you could get used to them. The kiss was exactly as gentle as the one before, you could feel your fluttering in your chest as Tartaglia’s thumb started gently rubbing your cheekbone.

He pulled back first this time, and as you opened your eyes back you could see a wide smile on his face.

“Sending me mixed signals, huh?” you pointed out.

“I told you, I never had anything against you personally,” he said as he put his clothes back on, trying to fix them as much as possible, despite the very clear cut on his chest and the blood covering them completely.

“I’m gonna need some time before I’ll believe that.” You got up and reached down a hand for him to get up. “You’re gonna need to prove it to me.”

He grabbed it with his non-injured hand and stood up beside you. “While you take your time, care to walk me to Bubu pharmacy, so I can buy some of these sticky bandages?” he asked, a wide smile still on his face.

“Sure,” you simply replied, picking up both of your back and tossing them over your shoulder.

You watched him move his injured arm slightly, to figure out how much he could move it. Unsurprisingly, not much.

He hummed. “I’m gonna have to take some time off from duty, hopefully they won’t kill me for it,” he said in a joking manner, but you could sense that he wasn’t kidding about the killing part.

“Well,” as you both started walking back to the harbor, you got an idea, “you could use the time off to show me that you truly don’t hate me.”

“Like what?” You could feel his gaze on you.

“Like, we could go out for dinner,” you suggested, keeping your eyes in front of you. “In a completely neutral way, and then see what happens from there.”

“Sounds good.”

“It’s a plan, then.”

#likes; comments and reblogs are incredibly appreciated!!! #next one is gonna be albedo x reader again lmao i cant leave the man alone #i'll try posting once a week i guess #more than that i just cannot do #genshin #genshin impact #genshin childe #gi #genshin tartaglia #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact childe #genshin impact tartaglia #tartaglia x reader #childe x reader #genshin childe x reader #genshin tartaglia x reader #how many fucking tags #x reader

[ajaxwrites]

GENSHIN IMPACT FANFIC REC LIST II

(previous: part i)

Seaglass by Aevas

There was more to the contract than a gnosis and test of Liyue. It seemed like a simple deal five hundred years ago: so long as Morax never had a soulmate, the Tsaritsa would never harm Liyue and she would not get his gnosis. But the moment he gained a soulmate, all that belonged to him was forfeit. He thought the deal left Liyue safe—he'd lived thousands of years without a soulmate. The Tsaritsa would be dead and gone by the time she'd have a chance to collect.

Five hundred years later, Childe appears in Liyue, Zhongli gains a soulmate mark, and everything falls apart.

(The obligatory soulmate AU, featuring a Zhongli with PTSD, an oblivious Childe, and demon-worshipping cultists.)

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: I CANNOT BELIEVE I SLEPT ON THIS FIC FOR SO LONG. Read it and I mean it! I admitted initially steered clear of this fic because I wasn’t comforted with a soulmate tartali fic pre-Osial but this fic is actually post-Ostial *facepalm* The writing is phenomenal and Aevas does some beautiful worldbuilding that you typically don’t see in Genshin Impact fics. I love the dynamic between Childe and Zhongli here and the angst is real. The author writes the two as very human characters who makes mistakes, etc. and notably Zhongli struggles with the concept of Childe as his soulmate (who understandably is upset by the rejection when he realizes). They get better though. Also very plotty. A+ writing.

it's a hard rock life for us by reptilianraven

“Ah, no need to worry about that,” Azhdaha waves a dismissive hand. “There is no real Kun Jun. He’s dead.”

A leaf blows past and plaps onto Aether’s face.

“You killed him???” Paimon screeches.

“No,” Azhdaha scrunches his eyebrows. “He was dead when I found him.”

“And you just decided to wear his corpse?” Aether says, leaf still on his face.

He shrugs. “It was free real estate.”

“Azhdaha...” Morax says, sounding vaguely pained.

-

Or the one where Historia Antiqua Chapter II: No Mere Stone goes a little bit different and Azhdaha gets more time.

He ultimately uses that time to bully Morax into confronting his immortal neuroses, to make Aether and Paimon suffer, and to figure out how to get that ginger boy Morax has his eye on to make a move already.

Ships: Zhongli/Childe, Past Azhdaha/Zhongli

Notes: Very lighthearted, humor-filled fic. Love how Azhdaha is so flippant. Interactions with Zhongli and Childe are pure gold.

if there's a light at the end, it's just the sun in your eyes by moonlight_mist

Childe has a Weapon problem- specifically, that he can't keep one.

He's too reckless, too wild, and too keen on pushing his Weapon partners past their limits. He's just about ready to give up when he meets Zhongli, a Weapon who just might be the solution- so long as Childe can manage to keep his dick in his pants.

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: This is a Soul Eater AU with some college/university AU vibes (?) but you don’t really need to know much about the anime. It’s a cute AU and I love the premise. Light angst but otherwise, it’s a pretty semi-plotty fic. Easter egg Kaeya and Diluc though.

To Kill A God by IlluminanceinTales

In Snezhnaya, they call them sansis—lost souls that have no guidance but themselves. It’s an apt description, given that most of the time, wannabe-Archons have to go through dozens of tests with nothing as their reference, relying solely on their wit and strength and hoping it would be enough. At least, until they survive the end of the whole game—and they might not have to undergo a painful reincarnation which feels like a hundred bones being stitched together again.

On his seventh game, Childe Tartaglia reincarnates this time in the body of a young man.

Damn, he thinks, looking down at his thin body, his slightly calloused fingers. This won’t be good when facing the other Hydro Decisions.

In a world where an Archon's position is not chosen but fought for in games, Childe Tartaglia is a Hydro Decision who's poised to become the next Hydro Archon. Of course, that's only if he survives his seventh reincarnation. All would be so much easier if it weren't for a certain Geo Archon interfering with every possible chance he gets.

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: Think Hunger Games meet Political Intrigue meet Genshin Impact. Love the premise and world building that’s done. Features overprotective Zhongli and lots of Childe whump. Has one or two supplementary OCs that aren’t really important outside of plot device reasons. Warning for character death tho lmao.

Three's a Family by IlluminanceinTales

Childe finds a kid that looks just like him.

Of course Zhongli wants to keep him.

Or: How a harbinger and an archon accidentally become fathers. The kid is their wingman

Ships: Childe/Zhongli (?)

Notes: Your everyday cute AF kid fic. Fluffy as hell and super cute. Zhongli and Childe get domestic pretty quickly. Xiao gets dubbed a grandfather and begrudgingly plays along. Super wholesome.

in pitch dark i go walking in your landscape by snowbrigade

He glanced down at him, at the silvery scars peeking out from beneath his robe, and at his eyes, properly now. They were the bright blue of high quality noctilucous jade, but he could see it, an underlying darkness.

Zhongli wondered what his eyes betrayed about himself. --

Rex Lapis is dead. Zhongli, formerly known as triad leader Rex Lapis, is a detective investigating his own "death." Childe, also known as Tartaglia of the Fatui mafia, is undercover as an escort looking to kill Rex Lapis- until someone beats him to it, and he wants to know who. Goals intersecting, they form a partnership of ulterior motives.

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: There’s like one scene that skews NSFW but otherwise surprisingly not explicit. Really fun AU. Like how the author addresses Childe’s reaction to being stuck with the undercover escort stuff and how the dynamic between the two develops. Pretty plotty so far.

Phantom Lines by iskendaris

“It’s a measure of one’s self, Mr Zhongli.” Childe says. “Maybe you don’t understand it since you work as a consultant, but as an ambassador from the Tsaritsa, as one who fights in her name— this is how I learn to know the measure of myself.” “I understand,” Zhongli says thoughtfully. “It is a warrior’s way, to test one’s strength against the incomparable. To find where one falls short. To find where one has risen to the challenge.”

In which Childe has insomnia, vandalizes public property and runs into a mysterious funeral consultant on his first night in Liyue.

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: THE FEELS. I can only describe this as the fic where Zhongli pays Best Boyfriend Ever only to FUCK UP big time (via Gnosis deception). Poor, poor Childe. Look, he gave the boy feelings and then broke him. You can really feel Childe fall in love in this love. He also does mental swooning a lot lmao. 

adventitious by Anonymous

It's said the Ley Lines remember all things that happen in this world, from the surface down to the deepest depths... But in the hidden corners where the Gods' gaze does not fall, there are those who dream of dreaming.

There's a dormant bud where Kaeya's eye once was. One day, it will bloom. (Never forget: memory is untrustworthy.)

Ships: Diluc/Kaeya

Notes: I don’t even know where to start. This is very headcanony and lore-focused. Very much concentrated on Khaenri'ah. The implications of this story is grotesque to say the least (according to this fic, Visions are the literal eyes of the people of Khaenri'ah). Warnings for eye and body horror.

Without Those Dark Memories by StrangeDiamond

Diluc awakens in Stormterror’s Lair with no memories of the past five years. Kaeya is on the trail of a rogue alchemist, with a habit of testing his chemicals on unwilling human subjects. Now, in addition to capturing the criminal, Kaeya has to shake him down for an antidote . . . and deal with an amnesiac Diluc who acts exactly like he did before their brotherhood fell apart. (Standalone Fic.)

Ships: Diluc/Kaeya

Notes: This is sort of a classic amnesia fic. I particularly really liked the way that Kaeya was written in this. I feel like the author did a really good job nailing his character and they have a way of capturing the subtle things.

Through the warmth, through the cold by strikedawn

“It’s you!” Paimon shouted with a twirl in mid-air.

“…Excuse me?"

They were drunk. Were they drunk? Was he drunk? Because Kaeya had the feeling his guests had been talking to him for a while now, but none of their words had made any sense whatsoever.

That was, until Venti stepped firmly in front of Kaeya’s desk and set his hands on the top, the better to lean over towards Kaeya and say: “For the end of the Windblume festival, Sir Kaeya Alberich, we’re going to auction a date with you.”

Ships: Diluc/Kaeya

Notes: Shortword, Kaeya gets auctioned off. Diluc makes impulsive (but good) decisions and scores himself a Date but displays an inability to do Date Planning. Venti deserves a pat on the back. Very sweet.

Hide and Seek by Kiri_Kaitou_Clover

Childe did not expect regaining his memories would bring him such frustration.

He makes the best of the situation by messing with one amber eyed consultant in anyway he can.

A reincarnated storm god wades through life in Liyue, all while screaming about one dragon god's incompetency at being human.

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: Features Childe as Osial’s very exasperated reincarnation, who gets the joy of discovering that his rival/enemy Morax is not only an idiot but also broke AF. He still falls in love anyway. Contains this golden line: 

"Did... did that complete blockhead really use my money in order to get me a gift that basically says that he is proposing to me?!"

(Osial was screaming. When had the other god become like this?! Had he always been like this?!)

Getting that Bread by tzitzimeme

Concubine AU where Zhongli is Emperor, Xiao is an assassin sent to kill him while disguised as a woman in his imperial harem, and the only reason he doesn't actually do it is because he pities Zhongli for being so catastrophically stupid (also Xiao falls in love).

Ships: Zhongli/Xiao

Notes: Like Xiao says, Zhongli is an idiot. Fluff and humor filled. Xiao spends a good 95% of this exasperated by Zhongli’s bullshit. 

prayers for a boy by Recluse

The only way to reconciliation is fierce combat!

Hm... Come to think of it, there will be a lot of interesting news to be heard the next time we gather for drinks. Filling in the blanks.

Ships: N/A

Notes: I...don’t really know where to begin with this? It’s exactly what the summary implies...but more? I was tempted to describe this as the fic where Zhongli puts his foot in his mouth but...that’s not exactly write? I feel like this was more of a character study. It explores the aftermath of the Osial Incident and how Zhongli and Childe reconnect. Platonically...though I guess it can be read romantically. 

one kind of longing, two places of sorrow by lady_peony

Zhongli's hands rest behind his back, both gloved hands clasping one another. His fingers tighten around one another for the merest moment, before he relaxes his grip.

"There is a tradition in Liyue," Zhongli says, his back still to Childe standing behind him, "of inviting out a companion to a last meal before a farewell."

A pause.

"A tradition?" Childe echoes.

"Yes."

"With a companion?"

"Yes."

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: The fic where neither of the two communicate about jackshit but go on a quiet, sad not-date before Childe leaves for Snezhnaya. Childe pulls (? on accident or on purpose, I can not tell) the equivalent of leaving the jacket in the car post-date to get date to call for the second date. Also, the author has a gift for like...writing angst...without writing angst? Like the whole fic is like brimming with everything that the characters aren’t saying but the thoughts aren’t necessarily written out BUT YOU KNOW THOSE DUMBFUCKS ARE JUST LIKE. BRIMMING WITH FEELS? 

The People of Liyue by queer_occurrences

But Zhongli whispers, his low voice rooted in the back of Childe’s mind. “Changsun, the merchant, who is never too Mora-enthralled to turn away a needy child. There’s Tiantian—she will allow anyone to join the Adventurer’s Guild—she knows what it is to be desperate.”

Childe ducks away from them and hurries out over the bridge. It’s a warm, sunny day, the kind he would have complained about, whining about his delicate Snezhnayan skin. “It’ll burn, or worse, freckle. Would you still like me if I was freckled?”

Then Zhongli would say, “The people of Liyue will remember your sacrifice.” And he would wrinkle his nose.

Or: after it all goes down, Childe takes a walk.

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: The author has a way with perfectly balancing angst with humor in a way that makes you cackle. There’s a lot of feels in this one. Zhongli tries communicating--Childe runs away a lot. There’s a lot of love for Liyue in this one.

cold blooded, warm blooded, hearts all the same by reptilianraven

Teyvat Petting Zoo @tyvtpettingzoo

Well would you look at that! Zhongli, our resident spinytail iguana, has gotten quite cozy with Childe, our new (and very feisty) ginger ferret! Aren’t they adorable all cuddled together like this? 😍😍😍

[Attached image shows a brown spinytail iguana curled up against a ginger ferret. The iguana’s head is nuzzled under the snout of the ferret.]

-

At the Teyvat Petting Zoo, Zhongli and Childe fall in love.

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: ...I promise I’m not weird. This is just super cute. Cross-species love affair? Childe the ferret is very besotted. The internet is confused and the zoo keepers are just done.

a geo archon's guide to the modern era by Erina

“Morax,” Xiao says after Zhongli finishes his retelling of the incident. “He thinks you’re a weirdo.”

“No, don’t say that,” Barbatos snickers. “You’ll give him hope that this is salvageable.” He lowers his voice. “Morax, he thinks you’re a boomer.”

(In which Zhongli hibernates for centuries and wakes up in the modern world)

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: This took me, I shit you not, FIVE SEPARATE ATTEMPTS to read. Not because it was bad but BECAUSE THE SECOND HAND EMBARRASSMENT WAS REAL. Like, omg, just reading about Zhongli’s introduction to modernity made me want to dig a hole and die. Super funny though. Do not read in public or you will look like a lunatic. Has a...parallel (?) fic in the same series called  buy two get one archon free where Zhongli gets reversed isekai’d into an anime convention.

time flies like an arrow by Erina

He’s tired, tired of the unbreakable loop of watching his loved ones pass on, tired of getting attached only for the connection to be violently ripped away from him. He wonders if the real victors during the Archon War were those who perished, who died long before their godhood turned into a curse that chained them to the land that they were fighting for.

But that is not a problem for Childe to worry about. That is Zhongli’s burden to bear, delivered to him in a pretty package years ago in the form of a gnosis.

His very first contract.

(Zhongli and Childe, across many lifetimes)

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: This is a quiet fic. It’s this kind of slice-of-life fic colored by this overpowering sense of love and loss as Zhongli remains immortal and Childe dies and lives and dies and lives for hundreds of lifetimes, but always finds his way back to his geo archon. It’s so lovely but also unbearably sad.

Tartaglia’s Favorite Professor by GreyLiliy

The famed hitman Tartaglia of the Fatui Syndicate spends his days as the charming college student Childe. The two lives remain as separate as possible in order to maintain a flawless cover to keep the authorities off his back and to better serve the Tsaritsa.

However, new intel about a rival syndicate intersects his two lives in a way he could never have predicted.

Ships: Zhongli/Childe

Notes: Mafia AU meet College AU. Childe is somehow both a horny AF college student and murderous hitman. Zhongli gives off major DILF vibes. GreyLily somehow makes this work while also avoiding cringe. Highly recommended!

like a handprint on my heart by fallingintodivinity

“Strictly off-the-record,” Jean says, with a small smile, “I’m really happy to see you and Captain Kaeya getting along again, Master Diluc.”

“We’re not – we’re not getting along,” Diluc tells her, indignant. “We’re working together. Unwillingly, I might add.”

“Yes – oh, yes, of course.”

Diluc stares at Jean suspiciously. “Are you laughing at me?”

Jean clears her throat primly. “I would never.”

Ships: Diluc/Kaeya

Notes: Super, super cute! Sort of reads like a first date fic except genshin impact style? Writing style is very refreshing!

#genshin impact #genshin impact fanfic #fanfic rec #rec list #zhongli/childe #childe/zhongli #tartali #chili #diluc./kaeya #luckae #fanfiction #took a while but i have been steadily reading my way through the fandom #still not all my recs #but you can check my ao3 for what i'm reading lmao

[cheelduh]

A Liar’s Bait

Pairing: Kaeya x fem!reader

Warnings: Idk fatui abuse? Also Aether gets his braid pulled don’t hate me. Also unedited asf.

Synopsis: There’s a hiccup in the elaborate plan you’ve concocted to rescue your friends, and said hiccup comes in the form of a handsome Cavalry Captain that doesn’t have the foggiest of clues as to what personal space is.

"Ah darling, I didn't know you'd be wondering about this late in the night." The charming cavalry captain, Kaeya, sang from behind you.

For a brief second, you froze in place, but not long enough for him to see through your motives. "Kaeya," You turned to him naturally, and spoke your next words like an actor revising a memorized script. "Have to return a book. You know how Lisa gets."

"At these ungodly hours?" He raised a brow, and you blinked away any remnants of sleep in your eyes at the mention of time.

Barely skipping a beat, you gave him an acknowledging smile. "I have some tasks to do tomorrow. It's better if I return it now." The book that is supposedly due tomorrow is waved hurriedly in the air, as if to exaggerate your point.

"Though it seems like Lisa has went home." He pointed out, cornering you against the brick wall, a knowing look in the deep pools of his eyes.

Of course you knew Lisa wasn't in. That was the entire base of your plan. There were a total of four knights on rotation at the headquarters. It was simple really, sneak into the library with your authority as trusted aide, and if push came to shove, an easy knockout would do.

However, Kaeya's sudden appearance put a hiccup through your plans. It would take more than a sock to the face to put him out of commission.

"Oh really?" You tilted your head in confusion, eyes widening, as you eyed him. "I probably should have came by earlier. Well then, I'll just have to put it on her desk with a note."

"You could trust it with me, and I'll return it tomorrow. Captain's word." He replied innocently, snatching the book from your fingers.

Archons, you absolutely did not have the time for this.

Aether and Paimon were waiting after all.

You decided not to shove a stick up his ass, and instead let your anger blow over silently.

"Your hands are clammy darling," Kaeya went on, flipping through the text just for show. "I can feel it on the book."

'Ew that's gross' You wanted to say, but decided to play his game instead.

"Guess I'm nervous." A forced a blush made its way onto your face. Okay maybe it wasn't forced, but you couldn't blame yourself for letting his subtle teasing get to you.

"Oh?" He feigned curiosity, letting the book close with a soft thud. "My presence often does that to people." The cocky undertone in his voice made you fantasize smacking his face a hundred times over.

"Of course," It was a struggle to not speak in a dry tone. "You are truly..." A small cough escaped your lips, and you tried to stumble upon the words, wishing upon barbatos that the flattering would work. "charming."

Kaeya's grin widened, all cat like, and for a brief moment you felt your heart stutter. He swooped in to cage you against the wall. "I didn't know you were so bold dear."

Before he could utter another flirtatious remark, you pushed yourself close to him, distracting him for a mere moment just to strategically slip the book into the safety of your arms. "Thanks but no thanks. I'll return the book myself."

With a swift duck under his arm, you made your way to HQ before a cold hand grabbed your shoulder. You ceased any movement and glanced over your shoulder, a frown made clear.

Kaeya narrowed his eyes at you, clearly not liking how you weren't becoming a bumbling idiot at his flirty behaviour like you usually did. You'd love to—but you just didn't have the time to deal with him, not when the fatui were breathing down your neck.

"I'll go with you." He said slowly, testing you for any reactions. Shit. He's on to you. "I can't let a pretty lady wander all alone. You might get lost."

Like hell you would. You knew everything about the damn base as if it were the back of your hand. Kaeya understood this as well, but instead, he opted to wake up every morning and choose to be a dickwad.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. "Lead the way."

Kaeya seemed satisfied at your reply, and slid his grip down from your shoulder, straight to your free hand. He walked in front of you, pulling you behind him like you were a clumsy toddler.

His gaze wasn't on you, so you took the chance to examine your surroundings, trying to find the presence that was tailing you.

Kaeya being this close to you wasn't looking good for you at all. The walls had eyes and ears, and the only way to apprehend the risk was by doing as they said. Only then would you get your opening.

Paimon...Aether...hold on a bit longer.

With a nod to the guards, Kaeya and you made your way in, stopping right in front of the library. With a puzzled expression on your face, you were about to question his intentions, until he readjusted his grip so that your fingers were intertwined.

You were sure your face was flushed in all kinds of colours by now.

"Shall we enter?" He asked you, mirth clear in his eyes.

The only signal you managed to give him was a quick nod.

The library smelled of dark oak and silk flowers. You briefly remembered Aether giving her the plant from his adventures back in Liyue. The bookshelves were decorated with intricate designs, filled with countless of books that had all earned their rightful place.

And you were about to steal one, summoning chaos into Lisa's beloved library. It would be you who might deliver an archived book straight into the hands of the very people who sought out violence in order to achieve power.

"I'll check it in for you," Kaeya let go of your hand after dragging you all the way to the front desk, only to outstretch it for the text you were gripping too hard.

"Oh yeah," You handed it to him—willingly this time. "thank you. I'll be looking around."

It was understood what you had to do. Easily finding the locked case from which you would slip the book into your clothes only to make a run for it wouldn't cut it.

The captain would make too much noise and track you down himself before you could get the chance to shove the book up the Fatui's ass, get Aether and Paimon their freedom back. Then once you'd ensure their safety, you'd beat the living shit out of the Fatui agents right after. It's not like you'd have a choice.

The whole reason you were in this whole mess was because you decided to help Aether out with his latest commission, which happened to be clearing out a hilichurl camp smack dab in the middle of a road. The camp blocked all imports and exports, proving to be a stick in the butt for the merchants of Monstadt.

You, oh helpful and kind you, assisted him with the task, seeing as you were walking back from a fishing trip.

Turned out that the hilichurl camp was a cover for a bunch of Knights of Favonious hungry Fatui agents who were hellbent on getting the one and only copy of a book Lisa had tucked away in the library.

While you two could've easily ended every single one of those shady bastards, enemy reinforcements came out of nowhere and dug their claws right into Aether.

At least that was the cover story.

Violà, a hostage situation was born.

They promised to let Aether go on one condition. If you obtained a book they had their eyes on for quite some time. But their promise had as much worth as Venti's word did when he told you that the drinks were on him.

They couldn't risk the Knights finding out. You were just another loose string that would be cut off along your two friends.

Locating the book and hiding it in your outfit undetected was as effortless as it could get. What was coming would not be.

"Darling," Kaeya called out to you, but his voice is different. More darker than usual. You didn't summon your spear just yet.

"I've finished up. Let's get going yeah?" His footsteps are light on the wooden planks of the floor, but his words are solid. Frozen even.

You breathed out, but refused to turn around.

"You know," He continued, halting next to your shoulder, leaning his sweet mouth down to your ear. His hot breath fanned against your neck, but you paid no heed. "A liar is no stranger to a liar."

You lunged to the side, spinning on your heel as your back hit the railing in the middle of the library. The captain reacted quickly by swiping the air, but ultimately failed to grab you as you gracefully tipped yourself over, landing right on your feet.

There was now a floor that separated the two of you. Just as you had intended.

The reflexes you showcased earned you a smooth-voiced chuckle, an amused smirk gracing his lips. He leaned against the ledge with both hands, bending down his upper body.

"Oh my. We've got ourselves a thief. You didn't think I wouldn't notice, right?" He contemplated, weapon materializing right then and there, ready to put on a good show. You could read him like a book just as he could you. "Can't believe you're such a naughty girl."

Despite his teasing tone, his eyes remained cold and calculating.

"Don't flatter yourself." You spoke monotonously, brushing a hand in the air. "The date stamp didn't match up right? Tight time frame, couldn't really think about the logistics."

Kaeya narrowed his eye shrewdly, offended. "I can't let you go you know."

"I don't need you to." You quipped, but then placed a finger on your chin. "On second thought I kind of do. How about a friendly transaction? I really don't want to fight you."

"And I do not wish to fight you, darling." Kaeya's face split into a viscous smile, a far less forgiving gaze meeting you halfway. This was your chance to tell him, he was giving you a generous opening to explain yourself.

You bit your lip, feeling the unknown presence yet again. The walls had eyes and ears. The walls had vengeful teeth that would dig into you the minute you'd let it slip.

"I need you to let me go." You clutched the leather of your gloves desperately, your prior confidence flickering. Begging was the only card you had left.

His hardened gaze on your form softened slightly, but disappeared almost instantly.

You didn't have to wait for him to voice his answer. It was as clear as day.

The captain didn't waste any more time when jumping over the ledge.

By the time Kaeya's feet made impact, your pole arm was already aimed and ready to strike.

"Let's dance."

-

After a tactical withdrawal, you found yourself taking tentative steps on the outskirts of Springvale. It wouldn't have been possible if Kaeya didn't let his guard down momentarily.

The cuts on your shoulder still stung, but it was difficult to spare any time towards the throbbing.

Why were you walking so slow? Did your plan not work? No, it should have. You calculated every risk. But why the hell were you prolonging the inevitable end?

It didn't matter. Either way, you'd get to sink your teeth into some unfortunate fatui agents, injecting them with centuries worth of pain.

The opening was nearby, you noted, the pathway familiar. You always were good with maps, oftentimes lending a hand to the certain young outrider with a bright smile and kind heart.

You allowed yourself to calm your erratic heartbeat, and slow your breathing as to get a clearer sense around you. There were two, but before there had been three. The third one revealed himself when you deployed your "return the book" scheme, flipping through the guidebook carefully to see if you left potential breadcrumbs.

Gnawing at your lip, you followed the trail, the world behind you quieting down to a silent whisper.

It seemed like forever when you reached the destination, halting your movements.

Your ears perked up at their footsteps before you could catch a glimpse of them, but made no sudden movements except for dropping the book on the ground as they had instructed.

It was odd that you felt as calm as you did. It could've been because of your confidence in your abilities, or perhaps, something else entirely.

The pyro agent appeared from one of the bushes, right after shoving a bruised and gagged Aether. Paimon came next, in a cage controlled by a fatui cicin mage who wore a wicked smile on her stupid face.

They managed to shut Paimon up real quick. You wondered what it took, but not for too long.

"Hey now," You grinned, but your fingernails were digging crescents in your palm. "I thought we agreed that no one gets hurt?"

"The traveller here is a real handful." The fatui agent hissed from under his mask, harshly yanking Aether by his braid.

Aether, immobile, scowled in discomfort and continued to struggle through his bounds.

You didn't acknowledge the blond nor the agent's words, alternatively choosing to nod your head to the book instead. "Here as promised."

The agent motioned to the Cicin mage, who walked forward in order to obtain the book safely. She handed it back to him, and he briefly flipped through it, seemingly satisfied.

Just like that, Aether was knocked down on his knees next to your feet, Paimon thrown like a sack of potatoes atop him. They were out of the red. Your signal to strike.

"Unfortunately, promises are beneath our pay grade." The agent placed a finger on his chin, as if in thought. "However, you prove to be a valuable asset."

"Oh really?" You piped, eyes crinkling in mock excitement. "I'm really glad a lowly fatui scum thinks so highly of me. It's truly an honour."

Said fatui agent glared knives straight through his mask.

"Kill them." He ordered, and the Cicin mage hummed a sound of delight, summoning her electro-flies or whatever the hell those things were called.

Your polearm took shape in the clutches of your left hand, a twisted grin plastered on your face.

"I'm gonna have so much fun tearing you apart." The bloodlust you emanated was enough to choke the air out of both the mage and agent.

Pouncing on your prey, you didn't give the mage a chance to scream before you landed a roundhouse kick straight to her ribs. She made a guttural choking sound, moving to clutch herself. You ended the move by twisting your weapon into the air to send a shattering hit straight to her temple.

Your blow successfully knocked her out, the kick back proving to be enough to send the pyro agent flying into a nearby tree.

"I really expected something more challenging." A pout formed on your lips, eyebrows furrowed. "Hopefully you can make up for what your mage lacked. If not, I'll be disappointed."

The agent chuckled painfully. "You won't get the chance. You can't take on all of us."

"All of you?" You questioned, tilting your head, eyes widening innocently. "Oh you mean those pesks that were tailing me? So sorry, but they're gone now."

"W-what?!" He sputtered, quick on his feet as he pulled out his knife, charging it with elemental energy. "How could you have—"

"How unfair," A low tone whistled, and Kaeya finally made an appearance, smiles and everything. "Don't give her all the credit. You're making me feel left out."

The pyro agent scattered around his flames, preparing to shake up the battle—

You lost your patience and picked up a decent sized rock, aimed for his nose, and sent a plunging attack.

The agent lost consciousness before he hit the ground.

"Oh come on!" Kaeya's dejected groan rang in your ears. "Could've let me have a turn."

"You already had your turn." You sent a pointed stare at him, bending down near the mage to wipe the blood of your pole arm with her clothes. "Two times if I recall."

He rolled his eyes playfully, forgetting the banter to go and free the traveller of his bounds.

—

"Let's me get this straight." Jean said with fingers pinching the bridge of her nose. "You two roughed up some fatui agents without informing the knights, and put the traveller at risk." There's this look of disappointment in her face, but you're used to it by now.

Hanging around Kaeya sure had its ups and downs.

"Precisely. The folder on your desk has all the details. Enough proof to have them in our custody.” The cavalry captain nodded along, and it somehow made you feel like you were a kid being scolded after getting caught stealing cookies from the jar.

"It was an operation that the traveller agreed to," You declared so her brewing anger didn't overflow. "The perfect plan to catch them in the act. It was my idea. The captain didn’t really know until later.”

"Although I’m quite hurt you didn’t fill me in any sooner, I must say, watching those ignorant fatui diplomats scramble to try and find an explanation is going to be worth the wait.” He spoke with a hint of a smile.

The both of you fist bumped. Jean wasn't amused.

The acting grand master produced a stern glare. "Y/N, assist Lisa with anything she needs for the rest of the week. And the Cavalry Captain here won't be going out on patrols any time soon."

That was a clear lie, but Jean had to keep up appearances after all. What kind of acting grand master would she be if she didn't at least pretend to have some sort of authority over her two trouble-making subordinates.

With a dramatic sigh, you spun on your heel to leave.

“Hey Y/N,” Jean called out, and you tilted your head, wanting to know if she changed her mind and decided to make your punishment worse. “Good work today. That will be all.” She avoided eye contact, feigning deeper interest in the pileup on her desk.

After the "briefing”, as Kaeya liked to call it, you found yourself outside of HQ with him right on your tail.

"Not too shabby for a day's work." He winked, smoothing out his words. "I must say, I'm quite impressed with how this went. Didn't expect you to put so much faith in me.”

"How did you get my signal anyways?" You snorted. "The entire scheme was off the bat. I had to wink at the traveller like five times to get him to showcase a crappy fight stance and become my fake hostage. Dense little guy.”

There was a momentary pause before Kaeya enlightened you with an answer.

"You hate reading, and you're irresponsible." He pointed out cheekily, poking at your nose. You scrunched your nose and turned away, cheeks warming. "The abyss would freeze over before you ever read a book, let alone steal one. That’s several red flags for me.”

He kept going, finding the topic of this to be quite interesting. “Not to mention returning the “Code of Conduct” handbook.” The relentless teasing was one of the reasons why you dreaded work,

"Gee thanks." You remarked unceremoniously. “I didn’t need your help at all. You just love sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

"Aww don't be so low spirited." He suspended your movements by curling an arm around your waist. "Let me treat you for a job well done darling." His hot breath fanned your ear, lips teasingly close.

Dammit dammit...why does he have to be so close!

"That's unfair." Paimon screeched from thin air, scaring the living daylights out of you. "After all the traveller and I have been through, don't we deserve a treat as well?!"

Kaeya laughed apologetically, cold hand never leaving your hips. "Of course. The honorary knight has been quite the help. Now let’s get moving, we're not frozen in place, after—"

A smack on the arm shut him up real quick.

#kaeya x reader #genshin impact #kaeya alberich #kaeya x y/n #kaeya x you #genshin impact oneshot #aether #Paimon

[deafeningdreamerthing]

Travelers are space orcs, part 2

Electric boogaloo.

- Aether will sometimes turn into amber and use baron bunny as a pillow.

- Ability to clone small stuff, (aka the investagte option). He’ll just touch a cabbage or something, then discreetly put a second cabbage back into his pocket. Loves books, figures out everything by reading. Will clone any book he finds and keep it. Reads them all, no matter what.

- Each planet has its own language. Half the time he spent with Paimon before they went to Mondstat was just him learning the language, he picked it up quickly though. Struggles not to laugh every time the word ‘fatui’ comes up, (Fatui means stupid in his language) because he naturally translates the word in his head, all he can think of is “The stupid are up to no good” “There’s the stupid forces” and “I am the eleventh stupid harbinger”. (Look it up, it’s actually real but I forget for which language).

- The first time he met scaramouche, he died laughing as soon as the thought “Scaramouche, Scaramouche, will you do the fandango” came to his head. Scaramouche immediately knew he was laughing at his name, and- pissed off, used his attack. Which made Aether laugh 100% harder because he’s an ELECTRO ELEMENT.

- Can see item stats. A lot of people disregard the common trinkets found in chests because of how many there are, but Aether can see the attack, defense, energy, etc stats on each item and will keep all of them. Which is part of the reason he’s such a good fighter. The stats apply to everyone, but nobody notices their magical effect because every single one found is level 0. He uses mora and other artifacts to make them stronger so the stats actually make a difference.

- Everyone writes the Traveler as Broke AF, but the reality is that they have stacks of mora, they just use it for upgrading stuff. Once they slow down on that, they’re practically rich.

- There’s probably a time when Amber asked for tips on fighting but Aether just came back and handed her a fancy flower and feather. While pretty, she didn’t see the attack merit in it... until she hit a hilichurl and it died INSTANTLY.

- Pocket space is infinite. Aether has no bag, but just pulls everything out of thin air. All the dishes he cooks stay fresh in the pocket space too, which is good because Paimon will eat anything but is somehow still picky.

- Sucrose has actually noticed whenever someone asked for something from the traveler, they usually have it on them. She asked Aether about this, and for a while Aether had to be careful with pulling stuff out of thin air.

- Can’t age. Aether was asleep, for at minimum, 500 years, probably through the entire archon war maybe. Everyone thinks he’s around 15 to 16, but in reality it’s more like 1500 tbh.

- Know’s information about all of his forms. The more he uses them, the more stuff he knows about them, which he knows would unnerve some people so he just sticks to somehow knowing everyone’s birthday while subtly trying to nudge people’s emotional issues in the right direction. Is sure to compliment sucrose with her work, gave Bennett bandages to hold onto, and does his best to convince Barbara that her hard work is enough.

- Although, knowing people’s birthdays does come in handy. Most of the time he just finds an anonymous gift or bakes something delicious and leaves it on their doorstep. But for Albedo’s birthday he had an idea more... practical. Baby seelies will follow anyone around, and make for quite good pets since they don’t need to eat. So when Aether found a bunch of baby swarming seelies, he asked if any of them would like to come back to help his friend out with his research on dragonspire.

- They all agreed. This, lead Aether to have a birthday box full of baby seelies that crammed themselves in there and were vibrating from excitement. He only wanted one or two, but all eight wanted to come. And as it turned out, everyone forgot Albedo’s birthday, including albedo himself because he preferred to be doing research or tests.

- This led to a hilarious situation of Aether, leaving a present that was rapidly vibrating, on Albedo’s desk. Terrifying. They had to call in Jean, Kaeya, Lisa, AND KLEE to make sure they’d be able to defuse whatever was inside. Imagine the shock in the room when instead of a bomb or angry slime, there were a bunch of tiny seelies!

- Yes I have nothing better to do, why do you ask?

- Aether... is not a lightweight. Everyone imagines since the travler is new to alcohol, they’d be a lightweight, but venti was able to handle nearly 37 glasses of wine before getting drunk. Combined with how fast Aether can go from full to starving again, his system probably doesn’t even register the alcohol.

- Once, in an attempt to get him drunk, someone started buying him stuff they claimed wasn’t alcoholic. Nothing malicious, just some adventurers wanted to see him get tipsy. By the time Diluc noticed AETHER was the one getting the alcohol, they all were too fascinated to get him to stop. He out drank all of them without knowing and was still sober as a stone.

- Doesn’t die. Aether doesn’t actually feel pain until his hp is at 0. Once he’s “dead” his body will automatically withdraw from the fight, teleporting him somewhere. Although it looks really freaky to anyone else because it looks like he just collapsed and then dissapered. Dying is mildly painful, but Aether doesn’t really mind. It’s mostly a mild inconvenience to be honest.

#Genshin Impact #Genshin Aether #Genshin Impact headcanons #video game mechanics #Traveler is a space orc

[luna-paradoxz]

Emptiness of a Soul

Summary - the vision hunt decree gets its 100th vision.

A/N - If you want to support me you can donate on Ko-fi or commission me.

He is on his knees as he looks up to their god in cold fear. He can't feel hatred neither does he feel any warmth towards her. She inspires fear and hesitance, a wish to rebel against her even if all his nerves screamed in fear inside him. She is his archon, but he can't hand over his vision to her, he can't hand over his dreams and ambitions towards her. He can't let her take away everything from him. He struggles against the ropes, it digs into his skin, the seconds slowing down as he watches helplessly as his visions shake against him. He watches in cold as thunder screams and his vision flies away from him, he moves everything in him wishing to get back as cold starts crawling down from his head. He needs it, he needs it, he needs his vision. And yet in a mere second, it's gone, tore away from his soul as it lands in the deity's hand, and he feels everything slowing down around him as the cold seeps into his veins. Electricity is being shot in front of him as his eyes lose focus and he stares down at the wood as his mind loses everything, he once held dear. His memories slip away and empties slip into him as he tries to catch up to everything that is happening to him but sadly, he was slowing down at the same time unable to make sense as he forgets everything. When Aether looks back to his friend, he only sees a corpse wearing the husk of his friend, still, he cuts the rope from his cold skin and picks him up to run away with him. He is taken away with whispers of pity surrounding them from common people who didn't understand the cold pain he was currently in. His mind felt foggy, his body heavy and his skin as cold as ice as he was walked to a destination that didn't come to him anymore.

A shirl voice in the back of his head screams at him, to remember as he is taken inside the tea shop. He screwed his eyes shut as he tried to shut the voice, but it was screaming, its words made no sense and it was only clawing at him to remember something, something that seemed only an annoyance to him right now. A surprise scream follows their entrance as a young lady with pale blue hair and a beautiful face greeted them with a gasp and widen eyes. He notes her greyish eyes as their eyes meet and she flinches away from him as he stares at her as a stranger. The traveller meanwhile motions her to back away as he carries Thomas's limp body inside to sit him down as he shivers in the cold that assaults his skin. He is given some tea by Paimon, and he is left alone as they all walk out, and he can hear the whispers float around as his situation is explained to the young lady he didn't know. He can feel dizzy as her voice assaults him and the crawling only increases as it demands him to remember, to remember it screams. A dull foreign pain struck as he tries to force his memories back to remember if he ever meet the beautiful lady. None, there is no record and yet the screaming doesn't shut up, his body is too heavy and coldness in his veins makes him want to curl and forget everything. He puts the tea down just in time for them to come in and the lady looks at him and she then speaks,

"Thoma," she says his name too familiarly, "Have you forgotten everything?" She asks, desperate as her eyes stare deep into him. He notices the tears gathering and it is like icicles are being shot at him as he realizes he did seem to have forgotten something important. His cold tongue moves lightly as he breathes out a yes and tears falls from her pretty eyes, and he almost wants to comfort her, but his limbs doesn't move, and she is taken away by the traveller as he is left alone again.

He lays down as he tries to catch his breath, closes his eyes, and does tries to remember but all that greets him is emptiness. An emptiness, the screaming and coldness are all that greets as he lays there, folding into himself as he tries to gain some heat back, but he feels uncomfortable and wrong. He doesn't know how much time passes before they come inside, note him and then he is pulled into a futon as the traveller goes to prepare some porridge. The young noble lady gracefully takes a seat beside his bedside, her eyes have dried up, red streaks only around them as they flash with concern. She presses her palm against his forehead and though it is icy cold it gives him a little bit of warmth instead; she pulls it back though with a frown on her delicate features.

"Thoma rest I'll call a doctor for you." Is all is said as she gets up and leaves the room. He wishes silently as he closes his eyes that she would stay a bit longer.

He gets up when the doctor comes in and he notes her sitting there, worried as she watches the doctor examining with hawk eyes. He answers the man's quick questions and is let to eat while the doctor turns to the lady and explains.

"Lady Kamisato it seems to the cause is his loss of vision after all," He remembers the name, one of the tri commissions of Inazuma, why would she care for him? "It is just like other pyro users; the loss of the visions seems to have thrown his body temperature into disarray. Proper rest and food will mostly make him recover in a few days if we go by the other cases." She nods, as he learns more about himself. He had a pyro vision and a relationship of some sort with the young lady of the Kamisato family. It is so unbelievable and yet he accepts it.

He falls asleep again as he is left alone, and he wakes up finally feeling better as he notes the dim light and hears voices speaking outside.

"I am sorry to ask you both just after you both came back but is it possible for you to bring the materials to the doctor to get the medicine?" She asks, her voice quiet and stable, it sounds like a beautiful melody to him.

"Don't worry Ayaka we will get it and come back as quickly."

The traveller nods, "Take care of Thoma." That is all she says as Ayaka bids them farewell with a warning. She walks in and smiles when their eyes meet.

She sits down, so prim and graceful as she takes a seat beside him again and he wonders distantly why she is so beautiful. She checks his temperature before nodding to herself happily and says,

"They will bring your medicine soon so take a rest. You will feel better in the morning."

He huffs as he asks the burning question in him, "Why are you helping me?"

Sadness clouds her eyes as she takes his cold hands and grasps them tightly, "Because you were someone important to me and this time," She promises with determination, "you don't have to worry about anything anymore. I will keep you safe." It still doesn't make sense to him, but he still nods and is lulled back to sleep.

He wakes sometime in the night to be given medicine and notes her handing a letter to the traveller, her eyes blazing as she returns to her place beside him. She smiles gently as she checks his temperature and helps him as his stomach grumbles a bit and she laughs, a chuckle that softens his heart as he watches her get his dinner. She hands him some porridge again and she settles down beside him and he observes her as he eats slowly and notes some little things about her. She was quite beautiful he thinks as she smiles a little at him, patient and more than that seems to care a lot for him. He still doesn't get what relationship they had, but he did feel guilty now that he had forgotten someone who seemed to care so much for him. If she was someone so important to him then shouldn't he have still remembered her? For him, the loss of his vision was not so desperate anymore but he feels guilty and really wished that if it meant saddening this person then he wished he could have kept it by him.

"I'm sorry Lady Ayaka." He says his face down. He doesn't see her smile fall as her lips tremble and her hands wrangled tightly on her lap as she tried to keep her calm and collectiveness. A sec is all and then she is put back together as she smiles again,

"Thoma the shogun took your vision away. It is not your fault." He looks up, that still doesn't make him feel better because wasn't what their archon would do was the right thing to do right? He doesn't say anything though and she only smiles and takes away his dishes. His body is still recovering so he falls asleep again. This time when he wakes up, he doesn't find her there instead he finds other people who explain his life to him and take him back to the Kamisato estate. It is only there that he would learn that the Lady had left the estate for special work and will not return anytime soon.

Ayaka is standing there amidst the wounded and battered men as they glare at her as she is escorted by an army man named Teppei and traveller to the place where she will be granted an audience with Sangonomiya Kokomi and General Gorou of the resistance army. She doesn't flatter as she walks behind them with sure steps and is ushered in a small cabin. There on the headstand are the two most important people of the army, while the soldier heads away, the traveller gets in the middle as Ayaka stands there now to complete her conviction. The doors are closed behind her. When they open again Kamisato Ayaka will betray the shogunate and become a part of the revolutionary army. It will be later known the reason for her betrayal was to end the vision hunt decree and also more personal to get a certain vision back from Raiden Shogun.

A/N - Hey guys I am back and am posting for another GI ship Thomaya. I love them quite a lot and after playing the story quest I decided to write this piece because I was really intrigued by the whole idea of losing everything after losing your vision. So ya this is my headcanon not exactly canon. So hope you like it.

If you like my writing and wish to support me in some way, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi, /luna2572, or you can also commission me. You can dm me or visit my Tumblr/Twitter to get the details.

Don't forget to review, favourite and/or follow.

Xoxoxo, Luna.

#my wrtitng #genshin impact #tohma #kamisato ayaka #thoma x ayaka

[demonfox38]

Okay. Made it through the last season of Netflix's "Castlevania" interpretation. Thoughts are below the cut.

I've often thought of this series as the exploitation version of "Castlevania," and hiring Malcom McDowell confirms that.

Although, I find it hilarious that both Malcolm McDowell and Patrick Stewart have ended up voicing the same character. I'm sure there's a "Star Trek Generations" joke to be made in there, but I'm not Mike Stoklasa.

Also, I was cracking up a bit when Varney's plot twist happened. Mostly, because it came off a bit Skeletor-esque in vocal performance.

Also, also—laughing that the final boss went the "Castlevania: Lament of Innocence" route despite barely touching on that game's plot.

Animation had its ups and downs with this season. It seemed like there were some frame issues (not enough inbetweening.) I do appreciate how they incorporated more of Alucard's SOTN animations into his fights, however.

Additionally, some of the fight scenes' pacing seemed to have issues, particularly regarding weapon recovery.

The whole bit with St. Germain was off. Like, he's a weird asshole in "Castlevania: Curse of Darkness", but he's more of a weird asshole there in the same way that casually encountering "Doctor Who"'s Doctor would also be strange. Not a straight up villainous boob. Kinda makes sense thematically to have another character who is willing to do horrible shit for their lost loved one, but the series honestly did not do a good job establishing her. Like, did she even have a voice actor? Or a name? All I'm saying is it was much easier for outsiders to get the Lisa revenge thing Dracula had going.

Also, how dare you joke about not being deaf and then have a villainous monologue, TV show.

Greta's a good girl. Well, outside of being an occasional homewrecker. Point is, she's competent and trying her best to save people in a bad situation, and anyone having issues with her is not to be trusted in the same way that you don't trust people who don't like Rochelle from "Left 4 Dead 2."

Look at me. Do not trust people who do not like Rochelle from "Left 4 Dead 2." Yes, her writing could have been better, but she's still a viable character. Let people Thunder Child their ships on the rocks of your better self. Got me?

Also, y'all really need to embrace more polyamory. Or understand the fact that Alucard's not going to love just one person in his life. Dude lives to be at least 600 in the game's timeline. For a dude who loves humans, constricting him to just one who may live to be 100 at best is cruel.

There are some interesting philosophical dialogues going on here, but I can see where some people may lose their patience for them. Considering one of Castlevania's most popular memes is a philosophy debate, you're just gonna have to suck that up. My personal favorites included the topic of acting versus reacting, as well as having agency in one's story.

Striga's battle theme was cool, but otherwise, the music was forgettable. Yes, that is a sin. Punishable by Death? In this series, maybe!

The gore's still over the top. Which, okay, fine. There's a bit of that in game. It's just generally a bit more reserved with it or uses it in crucial boss fights.

RIP doggie.

The Targoviste plot's a bit of a wash, but it doesn't feel as useless as Trevor and Sypha's previous plot predicament. It's just nothing of a surprise, considering how many times the writing has played the "authority figures are useless" and "dark secret surprise" tropes in this series. Like, Greta being reliable is actually more surprising than anything with this plot.

I cannot emphasize enough how boring I found Carmilla's interpretation and plot arc. You guys could have had a giant, naked lesbian riding a skull and spewing magic at people while her cat-eared girlfriend jumped them for extra damage. But no. Vanilla lady with a scarlet sword for you. So long. Farewell. Auf Wiedersehen. Good night.  

Gotta say, as much of a deviation from his source character as he is, Isaac really turned out well in this series. He's definitely evidence that you don't always need to stick to source material.

His Abel is fucking sick, dude. Way to go, king.

Also, I was expecting more violence from Hector this season. Oh, well. At least he got a teeny bit of a spine.

Look. I'm not an alchemist by any means. I'm just a bit baffled by this season's emphasis of obtaining a Rebis. Like, any time the game series has talked about the Magnum Opus of Alchemy, it's more been in pursuit of making a Philosopher's Stone (or at the very least, a Crimson Stone, as seen in "Castlevania: Lament of Innocence.") Pulling a Rebis out of the aether is…well. Could have been more interesting than it was. I mean, it was a bit nightmarish, but it really didn't do much.

Sypha's really never getting back to her family, is she?

Love the idea that the cross subweapon is basically a fancy chakram.

GERGOTH. BUDDY. FRIENDO.

Really appreciating the monster variety in these last two seasons. I mean, that's a big selling point of the "Castlevania" games. Not so much vampires standing around and bickering in dick-waving contests.

Breaking out of the bullet points to hit on the big subject of this season—that is, the ending being surprisingly happy.

There's been a lot of shit that's happened over the last few years. Obviously, a pandemic. Konami's run by pricks. Then, there's the situation with the allegations of sexual coercion with Warren Ellis. Additionally, the terrible ending of "Game of Thrones" likely impacted how this season was developed, considering it seemed to be chasing its progression in construction. (I mean, look at Carmilla and Daenerys.) I don't know how many people were happy with the last season of "Castlevania," but from my POV, it double-tapped itself in the foot with the way it pushed simultaneous sex and violence in its last two episodes. My point is, there was little taste for additional darkness, considering everything that has been happening. Society is drained.

A happy ending was what people really wanted. And man, did this pull through, in that regard. But, there's a conversation to be had in if this swerved too far or if it violates some artistic integrity to give people what they want. So, let's have it.

Look. Man. Have you seen a "Castlevania" ending? When you do it right, it's crumbled castles and rainbow-colored skies. If you do it really right, it results in a pretty girl holding the main character's hand. There is happiness in these games. Hope. Forgiveness and redemption. If this is supposed to be any bit an accurate interpretation of these games, it absolutely should end in such a joyful fashion. (Okay, maybe giving Dracula and Lisa a second honeymoon at the end was a bit much, but I get where people would want that.)

Did some items need to be addressed more? Absolutely. Alucard staking people and Hector getting sexually coerced into servitude are some pretty big topics to just wave away. (Oh, shit. That second part is even worse now with what Ellis was allegedly doing, isn't it?) I suppose I'm just glad the series didn't go full Sephiroth with Alucard. And at least Hector finally took some stand in his situation, even if it wasn't the bombastic, hateful revenge I'm used to seeing from this character in other stories.

I think the creators of this series were trying to save this show from the fate of "Game of Thrones." (To some extent, perhaps the "Voltron" re-interpretation as well.) There's so much media out there anymore that if a production team doesn't nail the ending, their creation gets wiped out of the collective consciousness. To that extent, I think the creators were successful in saving their series. Did it do damage to itself in yanking out of its construction and themes? A bit. But, in doing so, it pivoted back to being more like a proper "Castlevania" product. (And of course, by proper, I mean anything ignoring "Lords of Shadows." God, people need to stop chasing other products when developing "Castlevania" stuff and just let the series be as it is.)

I am very curious as to how much of this season was part of an original draft and how much was revised in backlash to everything that has happened. It doesn't seem like Trevor was intended to survive, but to some extent, Sypha had to. (I mean, until she has a kid, anyway. See "Lords of Shadows" series for dickery regarding that.) I'm also wondering if there was more intended for the Carmilla subplot, as much as the series was banging on about her invading locations. I'm not even sure St. Germain was intended to be a villain all along. Getting into a bitchfight with Death? Sure. Doing what he did here? That's a weird arc, dude.

If you come away from my POV with anything, it should be this: GO PLAY THE GAMES.

Do it. Do it, you ghouls. Go to the Steam store and download the "Castlevania Anniversary Collection." Boot up your PS3 or 4 or 18 or whatever and get "Symphony of the Night." Throttle Nintendo's stores until "Aria of Sorrow" or "Dawn of Sorrow" or "Harmony of Dissonance" or whatever rattles out of their moldy pockets. Find a ROM. Find an ISO. Just play a game. Especially, one of the ones made before 2010.

"Castlevania" as a game series isn't about hordes of vampires dick-waving at each other or edgy swearing or being grim and dark. Some of that stuff's there, sure. But, at its core, it's what game developers created when they looked at Universal Monster Movie creations and went "That's cool. Let's fight that!" It's a series about pushing technology in MMC chips to make rich, vibrant music. It's about flourishing artwork and layers of sprites dripping particles and gore onto players. It's sober and goofy and very pro curry.

The thing is, "Castlevania" players have their own unique connection to the series. We're the weirdos you see clapping their hands when a mutilated dinosaur shows up on screen. It's not because the monster alone is cool. It's that we've fought and struggled and bodied that thing through several floors like a goddamn "X-Men: Children of the Atom" stage. It's kicked our asses. We've kicked its ass. We've got a connection to it that you just don't get from passively watching it barf lasers through a computer monitor or TV screen. Like, you know how people go, "Well, the movie wasn't as good as the book?" It's obnoxious, sure. But, those who read the source materials have to go to the effort of constructing their own sets and people to understand what's happening. In a similar fashion, game players build up their own skill set to reach that next rung.

Maybe you don't always get a payout when you invest your resources into something. But, there is a sense of accomplishment, seeing what you can do.

There's a reason this series got an adaptation. I mean, outside of Konami's head executives wanting easy money. "Castlevania" is a fantastic video game series. Has it got a few problems? Oh yeah. Especially after outsourcing and pachislot machines became all the rage. But, there's a reason Simon and Richter Belmont are playable in "Super Smash Bros. Ultimate." There's a reason I spent a significant amount of time playing these games and writing or drawing fanworks for it. These games are wonderful. Beautiful. Difficult, but inspiring. Reasons I will still bang on about them decades years down the road.

When I get exasperated by layers of angst and edge lord content this Netflix series generated, I want you to know why. The roots of this show are good games held captive under poor management. Some people on staff know this. I wish they had more scenario and writing control. But mostly, I don't want to shit on them or their work. (Well, other than perhaps the obvious target.) I just want you to see what I love in these games.

And also to watch Crashervania. Because that's legit.

#castlevania #netflix castlevania #spoilers #tl;dr play ball or SOTN or a Sorrow game or something

[my-brothers-corrupted]

Chapter Four - Part 7

Dapper wakes up beside Red disoriented and upset and decides to take him somewhere he barely remembers to help him come to terms with their situation.

Tws for hospitalization, bruising, manipulation, and imprisonment.

Part 7 - Aftermath

aether-mae asked: Ok ok hear me out Dok- what if you were to make a deal with Dark, for him to off a certain someone for you. That way he won’t hunt you anymore and you take the opportunity while he’s undertaking the deal to run away

Dok sits stroking Noodle, staring at the ceiling, lying across his bed. He has nothing else to do. Nothing to do but wait and think and wonder. His mouth parts. He looks young and casual in his boxers and t-shirt, his usual semblance of professionalism and normality having faded away with his stress and the torn white coat lying beside his bed.

“Oh, yes, that would work,” he mutters, a gleam coming back to his eyes. “If that Dark thing can kill Anti and we could turn them against him… I mean, Anti’s pretty fucking terrible, so it couldn’t be too hard to switch the side that Dark’s on, yeah? Unless they’re equally terrible… damn. But I think I’d ally with just about anyone at this point if they told me they could kill him. But who would even know how to do that?”

He sighs, shaking his head against his pillows, mussing his hair. He hasn’t eaten. He wants his siblings, all of them. All of the real ones. Safe and sound.

“Doesn’t someone have to know? Was there ever anyone? Did you ever know, back when you knew us, from before? Does Dapper remember anything? I have to find a way to make him stop hurting us…”

Anonymous asked: um. so hey dok! things are... stable for now. trick's alright, he's with anti, who did possess blue. red has a cut on his throat but trick said it wasn't lethal. dapper got hit pretty bad. they're both in the upstairs bathroom, um, sleeping/unconscious? they were just now coherent, though. anti is... not as angry as he could be, which is good at least! we're working on keeping everyone safe. i'm sure it's not been easy. how are you?

The door to the downstairs guest bedroom creaks open. Dok shoots up, staring at the entryway - and there, unharmed, is his twin.

“Trick,” breathes Dok, reaching out for him, and Trick has rarely looked as relieved to go crashing into his arms, halfway tackling him onto the bed.

“Is that all true?” asks Dok, muffled by the closeness. “Red’s not going to die? You’re okay? Dapper, what’s wrong with him? Where’s Blue?”

“Anti was still wearing Blue last I checked,” says Trick quietly. “I think I heard Red talking to Dap, but I’m not sure. He was pretty busted up, Dok. Are you alright?”

“No one touched me, Trick, I’m alright. It’s been days since someone’s laid a hand on me.”

“I was so scared Dark would send people into the house while we were all distracted, but I knew the cameras would tell me if someone tried to take you.”

“Thank you for going up there,” says Dok, wrapping him in his arms. “You’re my hero.”

Trick’s face flushes with pride, scooping Dok close to his body, though fear lingers in the whites of his eyes. He runs his fingers over the ravens on Dok’s chest without even having to look down at them, his other hand in Dok’s hair. Noodle jumps on top of his stomach and makes him yelp - and then laugh, accepting kisses on his nose from his kitten.

Anonymous asked: Yeah, you're both okay. Everyone's okay. You're all alive and okay.

“What are the chances?” murmurs Dok, and it makes Trick laugh. He wants to build him nests out of t-shirts and blankets and buy him fish and chips. He wants to give him coffee at Christmas and deliver babies with him. He wants to make him smile.

“Let’s go get some breakfast,” says Trick. “I bet you haven’t eaten.”

“Okay.”

Anonymous asked: Dok, still got your necklaces?

“And wouldn’t take them off for anything,” he says, pulling them out from beneath his shirt - three little black raven talismans, arranged one two three from his collarbone to the curve of his chest. Trick doesn’t react, heading upstairs without looking back.

“The animal one, the light weapon, and the one that protects my head and my heart,” says Dok gently, plucking at his ravens one by one. “From my friends.”

Anonymous asked: JJ, I know you're beat to hell right now but we're running out of time. Anti's done playing around. Red and Dok are basically out of his control and he sees that, if he starts cutting losses, he's going to kill them. He's gonna hold onto Blue for usefulness, and trick out of favoritism, but JJ, somehow you've fallen in the middle. This damn twin system is throwing everyone's judgment but I think you have a better glimpse of the whole picture. We don't want to cut losses but we need a plan.

“Noooooo,” protests Dapper unhappily, shaking his head. “Nooo, don’t make me decide things, am tiredddd.”

He draws out his signs in long motions and flops down against the side of the tub, silver chain around his throat. At least he’s been able to get out of the bathtub and move around a little with only his neck chained - Red is not so lucky.

“Don’t shake your head so much, buddy,” he coughs, sallow and pale with the coming of the morning, his neck as white as the t-shirt strip wrapped around it. “You might still be concussed.”

“I want off my collar,” protests Dapper, struggling to get up to his feet, only to crash back down to the floor. “I should have been a good boy, I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” whispers Red. “He’s been like this all night. Anti hurts him and it snaps him back into his sugar-sweet, obedient little brother mode. It’s not healthy. Dap, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Reddy, lemme go.”

“Just try to lie still.”

“I wanna go home, I wanna go away, I wanna go somewhere nice.”

Red shudders, both of them struggling to take care of each other while they deal with their own shit. Dapper is spacey and injured, wheezing when he breathes, and Red has been over-stimulated and uncomfortable for about nine hours straight. He ran himself a bath for the blood and Haldol and everything on the floor of the filthy tub, but he hates it when his clothes are wet almost as much as he hated sitting in his own blood. He wants to cry again but he’s too tired. He’s just got to stay strong and get through it, like he always does. Tomorrow, this will be over. Tomorrow, this will be over. Tomorrow, this will be over.

“Wanna go home,” repeats Dapper weakly.

Anonymous asked: i know, buddy. i'm sorry, dap, jamie, love, you didn't do anything wrong, you don't deserve this. but i don't think you'll be stuck like this for much longer, okay, bud? i don't think you'll be stuck right there for more than a few more hours, and i think in a week or so things will have been figured out. hold on, okay? you're doing great, and i know it's hard, but just hold on, buddy. we're doing our best to help you guys.

“I do not want to hold on.”

He is grumpy and tired, childish in his fear of Anti, because it’s always been the best way to protect himself.

“I want my bear and my friends and pasta and Jack. I don’t want to hold on. I don’t feel good. Red, come home with me. Can’t we?”

“We’re kind of stuck right now, bud.”

“Not stuck, never stuck. I wanna go. If I can think of something. Take you with me so you’re not so unhappy.”

“I don’t know what you mean, Dippin’ Dots. Want to look for Tylenol or something in the drawers?”

“Anti took everything out of the bathroom in case I try to overdose,” signs Dapper. “I can’t even die to escape him.”

“Hey, we don’t talk like that,” warns Red with a thrill of fear down his back. “Don’t have to die to escape anyone. We’re going to be okay.”

Dapper plays with his clock distantly, running it between his hands.

Red sighs and turns back to you. “Is my twin okay?” he asks. “Please? Can you see him? Is he awake?”

Anonymous asked: Anti if you're going to be wearing Blue, march him to a hospital. You're only making him worse.

Anti is running his hands over the flesh of Blue’s arms, standing in front of the mirror in his bedroom.

“You know,” he says, his voice a fine low rumble. “I’m almost getting used to having skin.”

He strokes his throat, his fingers drifting down his esophagus.

“With the sickness I get otherwise, it’s a lot more comfortable. And with Blue breaking down and always turned against me… I’m starting to wonder.”

He cups his face in his right hand, his left resting on his caved stomach. He listens to Blue’s heartbeat in his skull. Thump, thump, thump. Quiet and tired, but reassuring in its steadiness.

When he was small, he used to sit in the back of Jack’s head, only half-formed, and listen to the beating of his heart. The only rhythm he knew.

“I could maybe just wear him all the time,” he says. “And only leave when I needed to glitch. He scratches a little. Doesn’t fit quite so well as Dapper. But still, I could just… rest.”

He touches Blue’s image in the mirror.

“Change this body til it feels like my own.”

There’s a sly light in his eyes as he turns to you. You know that look by now. He’s trying to get a rise out of you, to wind you up, to piss you off - but he could be serious, too.

Blue shudders faintly, Anti’s eyes gleaming in his head.

Anonymous asked: You really think that'll impress Dark? Okay then.

Anti rumbles out a laugh. “Dark’s always impressed by me. Even when I thought they were a total creep they looked at me like I’m the prettiest little killer in the world, right down to the essence of me. Sometimes people tell you to go kill yourself with enough emphasis that you can tell they got it bad.”

It’s difficult to tell if he’s joking or not.

“But I’m glad you agree Blue’s unimpressive right now too.”

Blue’s body drops like a sack of flour as Anti steps out of him almost literally, backing away from his body and regarding him coolly, popping bubblegum in his mouth as he looks down at him.

“Got something on your face,” he says, nudging Blue with his foot as his eye begins to bleed.

“F - fucker!” gasps Blue, clawing at the hardwood and drawing in huge lungfuls of air. “What did you do to Red?”

“I’ll give your precious twin back to you when he’s learned his lesson. Get out of my sight, you little witch.”

pine-storm-season asked: Hey, Dok and Trick? Anti just unpossessed Blue, he's in Anti's bedroom and might appreciate help leaving the room and stuff.

Trick puts his cereal down right away, turning to head upstairs. Dok makes to follow and Trick shakes his head at him, warning him off. “You’re still not allowed up here.”

Dok can’t say he really minds staying away from his torture room. He waits for his siblings at the bottom of the stairs.

“Hey,” says Anti, pleased when Trick comes up to him.

“Hey, Green. Can I have him?”

Anti rolls his eyes. “If you want him, you can have him, but you don’t have to look after him if you don’t want to.”

“It’s okay, I just want to get him out of your hair,” says Trick nicely. Anti relaxes against his bed, watching Trick pull Blue to his feet. He isn’t looking well.

“Red, Red,” begs Blue.

“Maybe we can have Red and Dapper back too?”

“Don’t worry about them. A little later.”

Anonymous asked: (Dok, while you're alone, Anti hypnotized the ever-living FUCK out of Trick and told him that he has three days to get the necklaces off you or else he'll kill you. I'm really sorry to drop this on you so bluntly but it's really important you know. If you don't want Trick to know you know, you can probably play off your reaction to this news as reacting to Blue looking like shit, Trick's bringing him back now)

Dok’s mouth parts so softly you see his chapped top lip cling to the bottom for a second, revealing his slightly crooked front teeth. He doesn’t answer you - barely looks at you - for a good thirty second. A deep breath passes in and out of him without conscious thought and his eyebrows fall into a dismayed sort of terror.

“Oh, he - he said he’d kill me? Anti did?”

And how stupid it is - how utterly and painfully stupid - that after all the realization he went through, after all the growth, after all of his own hopes to kill his little brother - the thought of Anti killing him still burns like a betrayal.

He never loved him at all.

He spent so long being so good for him - gave his whole life up for Anti, loved him no matter what he did to himself and his siblings - and Anti would cut him open and leave him dead on the grass of the lawn just to punish Trick.

Dok has to go. He gets up and he leaves you there, racing away and back down the stairs.

Anonymous asked: well on one hand dok is totally entitled to that reaction on the other hand FUCK

“What reaction?” asks Trick, and then his twin isn’t at the bottom of the stairs.

“You told him!” he accuses instantly, whirling on you. “You - he shouldn’t have to know that! He shouldn’t have to think about it! Why would you - ugh! I was going to keep him safe, like I always do! He’s got enough going on right now, he - Blue?”

He catches Blue as he begins to slide off Trick’s shoulder, sinking towards the ground. Trick heaves him up in his arms, huffing with the weight of him, and, determined, he carries him to his and Red’s bedroom, setting him down on the bed.

“N-no, I’m okay,” stammers Blue, wiping at his forehead. “I’m okay, Dok.”

“It’s Trick, Blue.”

Blue pants, looking up at him. His foggy eyes are squinted nearly into slits, blinking fast.

“Can you see me?”

Blue closes his eyes and turns away, burying his face in his hands.

Anonymous asked: Can we set the cameras to transmit audio? If not, Trick, can you pass it on to Blue if he can't read these? It's gonna be alright, Blue. Right now, you're downstairs in Red and Trick's room. Trick is in the room with you, and Dok is I think also downstairs? But not in the room. Anti, Red, and Dapper are all upstairs. What's one thing we or someone else can do for you right now to help?

“I want Red!” snaps Blue, turning suddenly on Trick and shoving him away. “Get out! You’re just Anti’s little pet! Leave me alone! What can you or somebody do? Fucking nothing, that’s what! I’m just disgusting and sick, leave me the fuck alone!”

“Hey, Blue, calm down,” Trick snaps right back, real fear in his voice. “You’re panting way too hard, okay? Just try to breathe.”

“Then get out! Get out of my room! I don’t want you here! I don’t want anybody but Red and even he can’t save me so go away!”

Trick’s never really been snarled at by Blue, but he won’t let it get to him while everyone else in the house is in worse trouble than him. He decides his sibling isn’t joking about wanting to be left alone. Trick knows the feeling. He gives you a meaningful look, tilting you towards Blue. Keep an eye on him.

Trick leaves Blue alone. Blue tries to get up to draw the curtains closed for himself, but even this one little thing he can’t do for himself - he crashes to the floor, his legs giving out, and grits his teeth as the blurry image of his pale hands holds his shaking body off the floor.

Not even his hands. Not even his skin. Not even his body. Oh, fuck. His head swims. The world is falling away from him. He sits up, trembling, and falls back against the bed, gripping at his head. Gripping at the head. Not even his skull. Not even his fucking body.

“This isn’t me, this isn’t me, this isn’t me,” he whispers, his voice faltering back into despair. “Where did my body go, holy shit. This isn’t happening. This isn’t Blue.”

.

Trick finds Dok downstairs, hiding under the bed.

“Dok?”

He’s never seen him under there before.

“Dok, I’m here.”

He crawls down beneath his twin, reaching for him. Touching Dok does not make him look over or speak. He’s just still.

Trick’s heart sinks.

“One of your zone-outs, my brother?” he asks quietly.

Dok stares at nothing, breathing a little too slow, a little too deep. In. Out. In. Out.

“I’m here,” Trick repeats quietly, even though it never seems to be enough. “I’m here.”

Dok lies still. Lets him hold onto him.

He’s scared. No matter what he told himself, it all seemed to come down to this - in three days, he’ll most likely be dead. Yeah, he’s scared. His brain decided to give him a break. He’s far off in his head. Trick doesn’t think he feels anything at all when he’s like this. It’s a defense mechanism.

For a moment, Trick reaches up and touches Dok’s necklaces. The talismans burn his fingers dark red, but he doesn’t draw them away until he has to. He doesn’t think he can get them off with just his hands, but if he got a knife…

He sighs and leans against Dok’s shoulder, closing his eyes. Not right now. He can’t even think about it right now.

“I’m here,” he whispers. “I’m with you.”

They lie beneath the bed, in silence.

.

“Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!”

“Dap,” begs Red, panting through his discomfort, trying to keep his calm. “You gotta stop rambling, little brother. You are okay. Okay? I’ll get you out of here.”

“No, I want to go home! Now, now, now!”

“Dap, we’re stuck! Come on, please take it easy!”

“No, we’re going now,” says Dapper, determined. He brushes at sweaty curls on his forehead and shivers, scrambling around the bathroom, his silver chain jingling. “We’re going away. Maybe we don’t have to come back. Where, I don’t know. I have to remember something. We can go home. I want to.”

His hand finds his little clock in the corner of the room. Red’s eyes widen.

“Now - hey, hold on a second, Dapper. I don���t think that’s a good idea right now.”

“Where do you want to go?” asks Dapper, barely seeming to hear him, staggering back towards him in the tub. “Who should we go see? I just have to remember… I just have to… we’ll go somewhere it doesn’t hurt so much. I’ll be good then. I promise. He won’t catch us. He can’t smell it, not in here. Where do you want to go, J-happy?”

pine-storm-season asked: I don't think that's a good idea, Dapper. He's already irritable and angry, and the chances of making it worse seem too high. I'm sorry, buddy, I think you have to stay here.

“I don’t want to, I want to go away, my whole body really really hurts.”

He crashes down besides Red and his big brother does his best to catch him as he falls, but this only makes Dapper gasp in pain as hands make contact with his bruised side. For a second, it seems to startle him out of his frantic determination. He collapses against the side of the tub, his head falling against Red’s. Red holds his shoulders and tries to make him breathe in time with him, rubbing his arm.

“It’s okay, Dap. It is. I promise. It will be.”

Dapper shakes his head, low, low, his eyes haunted.

“He really beat me. Like he used to back when I was never good.”

Red just holds onto him, shaking his head. He doesn’t know what to say anymore. He just knows - they have to go. They have to. He has to get his family away from Anti. He hopes Anti will forgive him someday, but he can’t worry about him now. Not when he’s treating them like this.

“I loved that big house in the forest,” signs Dapper quietly. “I only got to live there about a year.”

“Some day I’ll find a place where we can live and you can feel safe again. I promise.” He presses their foreheads gently together, minding the dark bruises across his little brother’s tired face.

“I want to go see Jack,” signs JJ gently, pressed against Red’s head. “I really want to talk to him. I think I need to talk to him. I miss him. He doesn’t remember me in reality. But I still remember him in my own timeline. I want to go see him.”

Maybe Red should protest more. But the truth is he’s filthy and hurt and in a lot of discomfort, something that translates directly into distress and pain for him.

And that one time when Dapper sent him back - when he saw them all again - when they were so healthy and clean and safe and Blue laid beside him and told him he was a good man -

Yes, Red wants that.

So he whispers:

“Are you sure you can make it? Even though you’re hurt?”

“Jackie,” signs Dapper, like it could be the sign for love or brother or family. “I’m sure.”

“And Anti won’t catch us?”

“Not if we’re quick. He didn’t catch me before.”

Dapper has eyes like suns faraway, big and bright. Red has had trouble saying no to him ever since he began to see the little recluse trapped in the attic as his baby brother again.

“Okay,” says Ro. “Let’s go home.”

He touches Dapper’s hand.

Anonymous asked: He, Dok, I doubt you'll be up to reading cameras right now, but however you're feeling is okay. You've done incredible work getting as free as you can from him, but not even magic can undo the effects of months of conditioning, abuse and hypnosis overnight. He's a master manipulator, you've done so well getting this far. Please don't beat yourself up for how you're reacting. Also Trick, this is a crazy stressful time for you guys, and you're doing your best, and we thank you sincerely for that.

“You know what?” says Trick, a little weakly. “We’ve gone through worse times together and come out okay, right, Dok?”

He’s managed to get Dok out from under the bed. They’re curled up on the couch in the basement, playing Lord of the Rings on the big TV. They don’t have internet, but they do have a DVD player.

“Look, Aragorn,” Trick prompts his brother, patting Dok’s arm. “You love this movie, right? When was the last time we saw it?”

Personally, Trick doesn’t really get the appeal, but he likes the monsters and the fighting scenes and things. Dok’s really into it, though, most of the time. But right now he’s just burrito-ed in all the blankets Trick gave him, staring down at the floor with a truly miserable expression on his face.

Trick hovers unhappily, patting his arm.

“It’s okay, buddy,” he says. “They’re right, don’t gotta blame yourself. It’s okay. You’re doing great.”

He curls up against him and keeps him company. Dok’s eyes don’t start to re-focus until they’re on their way to Mordor.

Anonymous asked: Yeah, you both are doing so well handling all this. Dok, however you're feeling is okay. We're going to do our absolute best to protect you guys, yeah? It's okay.

Dok lets out a small, tired sigh at Trick’s side.

“Hey,” whispers Trick. “Are you with me?”

Dok looks wearily over at him, meeting his eyes at last, but he doesn’t say anything.

Trick scoots forward and presses their heads together, lying against him. Dok glances over at you before lying back again. Faintly, his hand moves to rest across Trick’s.

They do not speak about the talismans. They do not speak about the death threat.

“Gimli is my favorite,” says Trick, after the dwarf says something funny, and Dok is grateful that he’s pretending to care.

“Can we watch all three?”

“We can watch all three.”

Dok will be asleep by the end of the first, but Trick doesn’t mind that either. He slides the second DVD in and goes back to his place at his side.

Anonymous asked: Hey Dap, Red, I'm all for you guys doing that, but are you completely sure you're going to be safe? If anything goes wrong, things could go even more south for you guys, and it's already really bad at the moment. Again, not trying to dissuade you, but please please make sure it's going to be safe. Or, as safe as anything in this family can be.

Ro comes to spitting and coughing.

He finds himself on his hands and feet - mid push-up, he thinks? He lets himself go down and then rises again, and, with a burst of pride, he feels taut muscles raise and lower him as though his weight were nothing to them. Another push-up. Another.

Jackie was strong, he realizes, and he blames the flash of jealousy on his old counter-part for being this fucking ridiculously fit, and then notices how strange it is to think of the person he used to be as someone else entirely.

He gets to his feet, glancing around.

Was this his room?

A lava lamp bubbles in the corner. His eyes get fixed on it, watching the colors rise and fall and float. His windows are open and cool air and birdsong float into the room. The walls are a nice light blue, the bed is a Queen with thick black blankets, and everything else - oh, fuck - it’s neat! It’s clean! Everything he owns is packed politely into drawers, a row of nice running shoes tucked in a perfect line in his closet, Spider-man decorations and pictures of his family arranged in clean lines on his dressers and drawers.

This is like Heaven.

For a long time, he sits in the middle of his floor, just breathing. Just watching. Just trying to remember.

A slow breath fades from his chest. He closes his eyes and he opens them again.

He remembers you and looks down, smiling.

“Safe, huh?” he mumbles, feeling the cool breeze through his hair. “What’s the fun in that?”

Anonymous asked: Oh alright, you made it safely!! Your room does look pretty cool, and damn wish I could do push ups like that. Way to flex, hero man. If you're able, would be be able to look for Dapper? You both weren't exactly doing super well when you left, and the magic might've taken a toll on him. (Hope this trip goes well for you!!)

“I’m not even flexing, this is just how I be,” purrs Ro, letting himself revel in the pride of it for a second, standing up and looking down at himself. He feels immortal like this. He looks into the mirror and his face is flushed with health - though he finds one deep scratch across his collarbone that surprises him, bandaged by neat hands, but stinging across his skin.

“Weird… wonder what that’s from? Oh, geez, yeah. Where is Dap?”

cest-mellow asked: it’s good to see you so healthy, red. but where is jameson? is there anyone else in the house with you?

“I better find him,” mumbles Ro, looking around like he expects JJ to crawl out from under the bed. “I don’t know if anyone else is here. I’m assuming this is the same house I was at last time he brought me back, the house in the woods he always talks about.”

He glances out the window. The trees are swaying in the wind.

“I don’t know how to get home without him, so he has to be around here somewhere. Right?”

“Hey, Jackie, are you coming?”

A voice with a familiar accent startles Ro out of his thoughts. He turns towards the door. “Uh… yeah, Dok, sorry, give me a second!”

“I know you’re just visiting, but I have a shift to be on time for, you know.”

“Right, sorry,” says Ro, a little startled. Did Dok just give him sass? Dok? “Oh, fuck, that’s not his real name. Uh… H, something German.”

cest-mellow asked: henrik! his name is henrik. where is he trying to take you? maybe jamie is there too? you should ask tho O_o

“Henrik! Right.”

“What?”

“No, I was just - uh - ”

Henrik pushes open the door to his room, leveling a look at him.

“Oh,” says Ro. “Hey.”

He’s got this clean white coat on and a dorky, cute blue turtleneck. His hair is very short at the sides, soft and dark on the top. He raises his eyebrows at Ro in a way that is both bemused and challenging. It’s not a look Ro is used to.

The Dok he knows is quiet and submissive, scampering back to his nest every time Red used to raise his voice at him, slathered in scarring and always trying and failing to keep his hands clean. But Henrik has this light in his eyes like nothing in the world has ever made him afraid, and his back is held so straight that for a moment Red thinks that he’s taller than him. Maybe he is taller than him, and Ro just never noticed before.

“Come on, dummkopf,” laughs Henrik, nudging his head towards Ro’s shoes. Ro doesn’t think Dok has ever insulted him out loud and to his face, even as a joke. “Let’s get going. Don’t you want to visit Jameson?”

Anonymous asked: Oh wow, guess this is happening, cool! What do you want to do while you're here, Red? (Is there anyway you could get information on Anti or any weaknesses? Or not, goodness knows you guys deserve to just have a nice time without worrying about him)

“One second, Henrik, I’ll be right there.”

“Oh, Henrik,” he says, and it takes Red a couple seconds to realize he’s being teased. “Today I’m Henrik, huh? Well, of course, Jackson, take all the time you need.”

There must be something else he’s supposed to call him, but Ro doesn’t remember what. Henrik grins at him like he’s waiting for him to say something back, but Red’s at a loss. Henrik blinks and steps back.

“Sorry,” says Ro. “Really, I’ll be right there.”

“Um, okay,” says Henrik. “I’ll just be on the porch.”

Henrik leaves and Red smacks himself in the head. “Two seconds in and already I’m acting weirder than usual. Okay, what do I want to do while I’m here? Geez, I gotta leave most of this up to Dap. Sounds like he had somebody he wanted to talk to. But, uh.”

He pauses, cocking his head.

“Well, if we have time, I would like to see Blue and Trick and… well. Blue and Trick. And just - yeah. Well. Probably don’t have time for anybody else, but I really liked last time seeing how healthy everybody looked. Kind of jarring. But right now especially, I really want to see that Blue’s okay.”

Anonymous asked: Ro, Dok's name is Henrik (von Schneeplestein)! If you run into Trick, he's Chase, you know Blue's name, and Dapper's with you, and oh if there's another guy you haven't seen before, he's Jack or Seán, I think JJ might be looking for him. Also, from what I can remember, yeah expect some sass from Henrik haha! These guys are probably going to pretty different to who they are now, but regardless of all that, you're still their brother. Best of luck!

“Holy shit,” gasps Red. “Holy shit!”

Schneeplestein, holy shit!

And it’s funny, first things first, just because that seems like such a ridiculous name on the surface, but Red isn’t even laughing, not for a second, because shit, that was his name, wasn’t it?

“Schneep,” he breathes, and it doesn’t matter how silly of a name it is, it’s a memory alive again on his tongue. “Holy shit… we were friends.”

He doesn’t remember the things they used to do or the way they used to get along, but with that name he knows that they did used to get along, that they did used to love each other in a way he’s long since forgotten, that Schneep was his brother long before Dok and Trick were bound at the hip, that that’s not just his tired, struggling little brother with the haunted eyes - that was Schneep, his Schneep, the doctor who always kicked his ass when he came home hurt, the man who would patch them up while grumbling in German the whole time, the arms he would come back to when he was in pain. That was his brother.

Ro has to sit down for a moment.

“Shit,” he whispers, biting on his nails. He lets his eyes slide shut for a second. “Schneep…”

Because it’s one thing to know that they used to know each other better and that their bodies used to be healthier. But to know that they used to be different people who loved each other, deeply, in different ways than they do now -

Fuck, it’s a lot to have stolen from them. It’s not fair.

It’s not fair that Schneep is dead.

He wants to see the others right now.

hollenka99 asked: Just a reminder for if you bump into them, Trick is Chase and Blue is Marvin. I'm guessing you used to call Henrik by a nickname. Try 'Hen' and see how he responds. After all, you're still shortening people's names now like Dapper being Dap etc. Can't hurt to try. Worse that will probably happen is that Henrik may tease you again.

“Okay, right,” mumbles Ro, getting to his feet. “Yeah, I’ll just… Chase. Right.”

And then he can’t bring himself to say the name Marvin out loud.

He tugs on sneakers - nice sneakers, red and white - and finds thin black gloves near the door, slipping them on despite a warm fall outside his window. He loves having gloves. Jackie is wearing a long, heavy red hoodie and long black and white sweatpants. He feels covered and comfy and - for the first time in a long time - handsome.

But somehow even that realization is painful, and he turns away from the mirror, swiping at a place on his forehead where a scar will one day exist.

He pushes out of his room, glancing down a short hallway towards a homey little living room with a couple worn-down couches. The house is quiet. He wanders through the kitchen and the laundry room, where faint voices waft in through an opened window. Pushing through the back door, he sees a pair of siblings working on a pretty little garden together, helping each other tear up weeds and chattering about nothing.

He’s never seen Blue and Trick spending time together alone.

“Hey,” he calls weakly.

Their heads turn up together, both smiling at him. Chase sticks his tongue out at him. Marvin winks. Ro hears a laugh bubble out of him, shaking his head in amazement.

pine-storm-season asked: Here you are, yeah! This is good, I think, to see them again like they are. You doing alright, Red?

“I feel weird,” he says, with a fluttering laugh. “But after being stuck in that fucking bathtub, I can’t be upset with anything. Hey, guys.”

“Hey, J-man.”

“The king, the legend!”

“Your shift at the hospital?”

“We’ll be there after lunch to give you a break.”

“He likes those Twix bars in the little shop out front if he gets upset.”

“I love a little shop.”

“Look how my mint is coming in!” Chase and Marvin both lean back to give him a view of bunches of herbs growing up from the ground. Ro shakes his head, laughing.

“Why don’t you just grow it with magic?” asks Ro.

“I’m still so tired from the fight,” says Marvin, grinning up at him and pushing long, dark hair from shining eyes. “But even if I wasn’t, it’s good for me to work the earth a little sometimes.”

Marvin buries his fingers in the soft damp earth, breathing in the deep richness of the smell like a worshipper breathes Easter incense. He closes blue eyes. The wind brushes across his soft hair. He smiles back at Ro and Chase follows their gazes.

“You have freckles,” says Ro faintly.

“When I get enough sun,” answers Chase warmly, touching his cheeks.

Anonymous asked: I think Schneep is a common nickname for him, maybe try that? This is probably going to be painful, seeing how much you guys have lost, and remembering things too, but hey, you can still reach something like this again. Healing is possible, and while you're not likely to be the same, you can still all make progress and learn to love each other like that again. While you're here, do your best to make the most of it!! Love you Jackie <3

“Hey.”

A hand descends on Ro’s shoulder and he turns to ice eyes behind thick glasses.

“Are you okay?” asks Schneep, frowning. “How’s the cut?”

Ro touches his chest uncertainly, feeling the faint burn of a clean wound. “Um. Okay.”

“Ready to go to the hospital?”

“Yeah, okay. Is Jack coming?”

Henrik blinks. “He’s still there from last night.”

“Oh, okay. Yeah, let’s go.”

Anonymous asked: So... are you guys going to visit Jack at the hospital? Is he okay?

Ro doesn’t know how to start asking about it without alerting Henrik to the fact that something’s wrong. He trails after his little brother towards the door of the house, next to which hangs a great silver mirror.

Schneep takes his wrist without preamble, making Ro startle, but all his brother does is say “amo, vale,” and then -

Hold on a second.

Ro is too startled to protest when Henrik pulls him through the mirror after him.

Gone is the forest. Red closes his eyes in shock against a strange sensation, feeling the world give an odd lurch around him, and - well, it’s not unlike the time travel, but his body has moved instead of changed. Brick walls rise on both sides, birds chittering around the rooftops. It might have been a dirty alleyway, once, but so many flowers and weeds and grasses have grown up through the broken earth and brick and pavement that it makes a tiny pocket in the back of the alley, hidden from the world. Henrik pushes through a curtain of vines and Ro sees people and cars rushing down the streets around them, feels the burn of city electricity, hears the laughter and the noise and the life of lived-in places. He takes one last look back at an abandoned mirror sitting in a dirty rectangle of painted blue wood and moves after Henrik, counting his breaths to keep them steady.

“What did you say?” he asks shakily, hurrying after Henrik to catch his wrist. “Those words, like a spell?”

Henrik quirks his eyebrows at him. “Marvin’s password? That was all.”

“Henrik, how’s everyone doing?”

“I didn’t get any calls overnight, so I’m hoping that means good. No more breakdowns for JJ, I hope, and if Jack got caught staying past visiting hours and thrown out on his ass, well, he can take care of himself.”

nikkilbook asked: .... Jackie, ask how Jameson is doing.

“How is Jameson? How was his last breakdown?”

That light like sunflame in Henrik’s eyes gives its first flicker of the day, and he turns to give Ro a frog-frown look, his mouth tight.

“Look, I promise I won’t let them put him back in the psych ward. I’ll convince them to let us take him home first, once they know he’s going to be okay without the hospital. It’s not his fault. It’s just Anti in his head… soon, things will clear up, and he won’t be saying things like that anymore.”

“Things like what?”

Henrik rubs his arms together, shaking his head. “You know what! Like that there’s messages hidden in his prescriptions and all the doctors are secretly trying to kill him.”

Red’s head clears a little. “Oh. He’s psychotic?”

“No, I told you!” protests Henrik, his upset rising. “It’s just Anti, it has to be! He’ll clear up again!”

“You should put him on Haldol,” says Ro wisely. “If we’ve learned one thing from all this.”

Henrik gives him a despairing look, stopping in the middle of the path. “Bayard, he’s been through too much already. I don’t… I don’t want him to be any sicker than this. Don’t want him to have to deal with delusions. We just got him, can’t he have a break? I want him to not get hurt anymore.”

Red’s chest twists. Dok never did stop trying to look after him, either.

He looks smaller than Ro again, standing in the middle of the street, playing with a loose button on his sleeve.

“We’ll do everything we can, okay?” he says, stepping forward. He slides an arm around Schneep’s shoulders and finds that it feels easy, natural, normal. Henrik pushes gently back against him. “Even if he has got something going on in his brain, he’s still perfect. Can still be happy. You’ll see. I’ll make sure he gets the chance. I promise.”

And Henrik smiles again, small and correct, yes, correct, right, normal, natural, true. Schneep. Like nothing has ever hurt him. Pride in the cold ice of his eyes, in his clean skin, in his head lifted up.

Was Anti the one who taught them all to cower?

Anonymous asked: Oooh they don't know yet about Jamie's psychosis... Red, can you find a way to discreetly ask how long JJ has been with your brothers? Because it either has been not that much or they've all gotten lucky for a big stretch of time

“He’s been in here… what, how many days is it now?” asks Ro, dodging out of the way of harried nurses and - oh, Schneep just slammed his shoulder into the arm of that doctor with the clipboard.

“Watch where you’re fucking going, Kerchek!” he hollers, narrowing a glare at her.

“Hey, everybody look out, it’s Mr. Genius!” snarks back Kerchek, rolling her eyes.

“Still jealous about that botched piggyback, aren’t you?”

“I’ll show you a botched piggyback, Schneeplestein, you check your back.”

“Just stay away from my brother or else.”

“Holy shit,” laughs Ro. “Stop fighting with the other doctors! What the hell?”

“She deserve it,” huffs Henrik, tearing away. “Hey! You two stop snickering and get back to work!”

A pair of howling medical students all but crumple over their assignments, head bent low together.

“Yes, Doc,” they laugh.

Henrik just rolls his eyes and keeps walking.

“You cause a lot of trouble, Schneeps?”

“Please, everyone knows I run this hellhole. Clarissa, how is my patient?”

“Hi, Jackie. Hi, Schneep,” says a dark-haired nurse, glancing them both over fondly. “He’s doing okay. Just slept most of the night. You’ll have to go check if he’s been giving the morning staff as much trouble as you do.”

“Unlikely,” answers Henrik dryly, pulling Ro away again. The hospital is crowded and he dislikes the smell and feel of it, but everyone is smiling at them as they pass - or glaring at Henrik, who snipes right back. He’s a vicious little man and ever since he started working here, any passive-aggressiveness or false niceties died with a bang rather than a whimper. The hospital’s been better for it - and a lot more entertaining.

“It’s been what, a week and a half?” answers Schneep belatedly. “He was so shaken up to begin with. But a nice young man, isn’t he, once you get past the murder attempts?”

“I’m still trying to wrap my head around the thought of you being a competent professional,” answers Ro cheekily, and a moment later a clipboard slams into his stomach. He groans out a laugh, snatching Henrik by the turtleneck and dragging him under his arm, making him yelp in protest and squirm to get away. They half-chase each other down the hallway towards Jamie’s room, Henrik fending him off with his clipboard, and Ro can’t stop laughing.

Fuck, when Blue reads him poetry with love in the lines of it, this is what he means.

Anonymous asked: Dang, I almost forgot how much confidence Schneep used to have. It's nice in a way to remember that he wasn't as quiet as he is, or well... will be. Bask in this moment, red. Enjoy that long passed time where brotherhood still held any kind of meaning other than simple hierarchy.

Ro looks at his brother as he pushes open the door to a nice little hospital room with lots of light. He doesn’t think he wants to know what sort of things you have to do to a person like Schneep to turn him into the little brother in a tattered coat shaking beneath the bed.

And this is better, he thinks, fleeting and true. Not that he was a different person. He could love him for whoever he is if he only got the chance. But that’s what was better - the chance to be his friend, and not just his brother. Maybe Jackie got swallowed up, too, the same way that Schneep did. Eaten up by that one role, letting it define him.

I’m more than his protector, though. I’m more than his big brother. He’s more than someone I need to look after all the time.

“Hey.” Henrik’s voice, gone gentle, interrupts his thoughts. “How are you feeling, my dear?”

Letting his legs dangle over one side of the blue hospital bed, Jameson tears his eyes away from the sun through the window and meets their eyes.

He looks exactly the same.

Anonymous asked: How's Jamie doing? Is he alright?

JJ reaches out for Ro.

He moves over to him and wraps his arms carefully around him, pressing JJ’s head to his shoulder. “Did you come to not knowing where I was?”

JJ nods, gripping at his sweatshirt. He doesn’t know what would have happened if he and Ro weren’t together when the timer on his clock ran out. He doesn’t travel like this a lot, or not that he remembers.

“Fuck, you really don’t age, do you? Like, truly. You just don’t.”

“Not until it’s my time,” answer JJ’s hands, a needle taped to the back of the right one. “And I haven’t had much of a chance at being twenty-five yet, you see.”

“I never thought this would be possible, but you might be skinnier now than you are… well, now.” Red draws back to look at him, pushing stiff, overgrown hair from his eyes and touches the back of his head, examining him. “I thought you said there used to be a time when Anti was nicer to you.”

“That time hasn’t come yet,” answers JJ wearily. “When he gets me back the second time…”

He notices Henrik standing by the door, staring between the two of them with his eyebrows up, worried and excited and confused all at the same time.

“You seem better,” he breathes, bouncing on his feet just a little. “Are you, um… feeling safer today? You are hugging today? We are not the enemies?”

JJ smiles, reaching out his arms. Henrik sweeps forward, beaming, and hugs him to his chest, pouring reassurances into his ear.

It’s about halfway through that JJ realizes this might have been the first time in his life he ever hugged Henrik. In the original timeline, he doesn’t think that happened until weeks later, when he stopped baring his teeth at anybody who tried to come close. He holds tighter and closes his eyes.

“You’re shaking,” murmurs Henrik. “You need more for the pain?”

JJ sucks in a breath, feeling at his body bit-by-bit. He does hurt, terribly, somewhere beneath the dull relief of whatever drugs he’s on. He’s beat and fragile, one of his ankles wrapped in a cast and an awful haze of weakness making him feel more like a ghost than a man.

And he’s never been medicated for his psychosis in his life. He knew it from the moment he came back to this moment in time. He miscalculated. He can barely think straight, and he’s afraid, and he doesn’t want to leave this room or face anyone.

“Where’s Jack?” asks Henrik, pushing lovingly at his hair. “Didn’t he stay with you?”

“Went to get me a hot chocolate,” signs JJ. “I really wanted one.”

“Oh, good.”

“Can I stay with Jackie a little while, H-healing? I want to talk to him.”

“Alright,” says Henrik, despite a little disappointment in his face. “Well, I need to get started at work for the day. But I’ll go over what the nurses said and if you need anything at all, I’ll come right back. Okay?”

JJ nods. Henrik cups his bruised face, soothing his thumb over a cut by his ear, and then, with one more look at the pair of them, he sweeps away again.

“You’re going to have to talk to Jack for me,” signs JJ immediately.

“What? No way! I don’t even know who that is. Leave me out of it, Jay. Hey, come on… don’t look at me like that.”

Anonymous asked: Jamie, how about you explain Jack real quick, and then we can also help Jackie talk to him if we need to?

“No, I refuse to explain,” says JJ politely.

“Dapper!”

“What! You might remember as you see him… I’d prefer for you to remember what he meant to you than me have to explain…”

Ro sighs, crossing his arms over his chest.

“This is the person Anti hates so much,” he says. “The old master.”

JJ picks quietly at the hospital bedsheets, watching mice crawl up the sides as he hallucinates. “I guess. Well, yes, he is the person Anti hates.”

“The magician who created us.”

“Something like that.”

“How can somebody have that much power?”

“It happens once in a millenium, my brother. And he has a bit of an energy boost.” JJ glances over at you, raising an eyebrow. “But I don’t remember all the details. Nobody understands the full thing. Usually, we let Jack stay out of it. It’s not really his fault, and he has a completely different life that’s not anybody’s business. We fight our battles without him. But… now I need to know.”

“What do you need to know?”

JJ stares up at him. “I… Dok and Blue have been… I just… I need to know more about… Anti.”

“What, Dap?”

“I can’t say it.” JJ ducks his head, squeezing his eyes shut. “Not while I can hear him whispering to me from the television…”

Ro glances at the TV on the wall. It’s off.

Anonymous asked: It's safe, bud. You can say.

“You should know by now,” says JJ begrudgingly, turning away from Ro. “You want to protect us, do it. I want my hot chocolate and to go back to bed.”

“Oh my goodness.”

“Blue has been sneaking around with Dok ever since Peru, Ro. Hasn’t he told you anything he’s been thinking?”

“No!” protests Ro, offended. “Well, I mean - he’s not sneaking around without me! We sneak around together! Geez!”

“Ro, we all know you haven’t picked a side yet. Blue doesn’t - ”

“Picked a side?” Ro scoffs, pacing at the foot of his bed. “What sort of side is there to pick? You’re talking about Anti. I want to get you away from him, I do, but that’s our brother, Dap, that’s our - ”

“You think I don’t know that!” JJ’s hands tear the air apart. “What, you think I’m naive to his love and his hatred, Ro? Look around you! Do you see Anti back home with you? Does he come to visit me in the hospital, bring me hot chocolate, garden with Marvin, play around like a kid with Schneep in the hallway? Ro, Anti can be your brother if you want him to be, but it’s a choice that we make. Or you, at least… I think I’m bound up in his blood forever.”

“You’re talking about hurtingAnti.” Ro holds onto his wrist, trying to make him look at him again. “You’re talking about hurting him, not just running.”

“He just chained us to a bathtub!”

Ro backs away, gnawing on the nail of his thumb. He shrugs, eyes flickering around.

Anonymous asked: I know he's your brother, Red. But can I ask you a question? If you just met him, and he started pushing people around like he does now, is he the kind of person you would want to be friends with?

“Mh, no, he scares me, but it’s not about friends, it’s about brothers.” He shifts on his feet, hugging his arms over his chest. “And Anti’s protected me before too, even if he’s hurt me to match. He gets lost in his temper… I want us to be away from him, and not to go back until he can stop hurting us. If he can. But I don’t want to hurt him…”

He knows the warmth of Anti’s body in a hug. He knows the warmth of his own blood on Anti’s hands. He shivers.

nikkilbook asked: Jackie, what does “brother” mean?

“Well,” says Ro. “Your blood, yeah? You gotta look out for your brothers. And they’re supposed to look after you. And if they don’t, well, I think you gotta go, at least to keep the others safe. But you don’t turn around on your family. He doesn’t… mean to hurt anybody. Just angry. Right? And hey!”

He whirls on JJ again, wagging a finger. “That’s Jack’s fault! Anti always says the old master made us like this.”

“Anti blames him for everything,” answers JJ bitterly, wiping at his face. “Just because Jack fucked up a couple times when he was younger. It’s not Jack’s fault Anti’s always mean and you know that. Or if it is Jack’s fault - honestly, I don’t remember - then Anti can never change, and it would be better to kill him than to let him keep living so ferociously miserable.”

Real emotion breaks Dapper’s face. He turns away, pulling his hair over his eyes.

He hates Anti. Often. Not always. And no matter what he tries to tell himself, he can’t deny that it hurts to see Anti in pain. Lately, he doesn’t even hold him at night. His condition rears thoughts in his head - traitor little brother. Selfish brat. Turning on him. Something touches his ankle and he gasps, jerking it back to his chest, but nothing’s there. Ro reaches out to soothe him, hand held out in front of him like a shield.

nikkilbook asked: I’m not sure Jack “made” you anything. He created you, but that doesn’t mean he micromanaged your every flaw and personality trait. You are you, you’ve always been you, you’ve never not been you. All he did was give you a way to exist physically in this world.

Maybe Anti’s angry a lot. Maybe that’s outside of his control. But hating is a choice. Turning affection into a weapon meant to hurt and to maim is a choice. And crucifying yourself on the hate of someone who would call himself brother has only ever been the role of one man, and you are not Him.

“Jackie,” signs JJ gently. “Jack doesn’t even remember us anymore because of what I did… so we know for a fact he doesn’t control any of us any longer, if he ever did. You are you. And I… I’m me, for better or for worse. And Anti is himself. The person he’s chosen to be. Ro… how long have we loved him, and he still does things like this?”

Ro tears a strip off his nail, eyes haunted. “You remember better than I do.”

“Well, it’s been a long time,” he sighs. “And all of us have done our best. But it’s not our fault, Ro. It’s not… it’s not my fault. I have loved him, I have… it’s not your fault if that’s not enough to change him… it’s not my fault.”

Ro tilts his head, pressing his lips together, but JJ doesn’t turn back to his gaze. He’s curled in on himself, petting his hands through his hair, face very tired, and very guilty.

Anonymous asked: It doesn't equal out like that, Red. You don't owe a n y loyalty to someone who hurts you, even if they also protect you. And what you said about his temper, and if he stops hurting you? Red, he's had the chance to stop, many times. If he hurt you once when he was angry, and then did his best to work on it and not hurt you again, that would be okayish. But he doesnt, Red. He has no excuse for cutting your throat just last night, or for any of the other things he's done. Nothing justifies that.

“Okay, fine,” snaps Ro, pulling at his hair. “I know that Anti sucks ass and I have for a long time, okay? But I’d be scared, Dap! I’d be scared! It’s always safer to stay away from him or just wait his temper out! That’s always been true… and I… he is my brother, even if he’s the fucking worst and I hate his guts half the time!”

Dapper sighs. “Alright, Red, just - ”

“If we try to hurt him he’ll kill us!” shrieks Red. “He’ll do things to us like he did to Blue at the river while I was running away! I got scared and he put Blue in the hospital and he still hasn’t recovered, Dap! I don’t think he ever will! Anti did that to him just because he hated him and wanted something he had. He can get inside our heads, he can control us. I wanted to attack him in Peru, but I had to protect Max.”

“Ro, I know.”

“And then he made me feel like I loved him again! Even when I know the truth, I still feel that way sometimes. I’m not strong enough, Dap, don’t you get that? I can’t keep him out of my head, can’t convince myself to do anything, can’t protect you from him! He does things like chain us to a bathroom and I can’t stop that, JJ, I can’t, I’m sorry. I’m not… I’m not enough! I’m not what anyone needs me to be! He’s going to keep hurting us… but he’ll hurt us less if I can just get you away for a while or keep shielding you the best way I know!”

“No, that’s not true!” cries JJ, slashing at the air. “Stop, Ro, J-Joy, listen to me. Watch. Watch. Ro, don’t you know why I’m in the hospital?”

Ro blinks, glancing around. “You’re hurt. Anti hurt you. He’s always hurt you. Your whole life.”

“But Anti’s not here.”

Ro brightens a little. “I found a way to get you away from him? You’re hidden?”

“No, Ro, better,” says Dapper, clutching at his aching ribs as he leans forward. “You and Blue beat him. Beat him into the earth and took this past version of me away from him. And that was the night you made Anti terrified of the weakness that would force him to scamper away from a fight like an animal.

We are not the ones hiding right now, Ro - he is.”

Anonymous asked: Red, Ro, Jackie, you're strong. And I'm sorry you've been forced to be for so long. But you can get through all of this. You can win. We've been with you for a long time, haven't we? We know you. And we believe you can do this. We're with you, bud, we'll help you. It won't always be the way it is, because you all can fight, and you can win. He wouldn't beat you all down into dust if he didn't think you could be powerful enough to fight back and win.

Ro sits down at the edge of JJ’s bed.

His little brother’s fingers tug gently on his sleeve, waiting for him.

“I love you,” he says, though the words are ashy in his mouth.

JJ nods, stroking at his wrist. He presses an “I love you” into the mattress as he scoots closer.

“I love all of you. I want to keep you safe. I’ve never been able to do that. And I… still don’t think I could hurt Anti.”

“I know I couldn’t,” JJ agrees. “But I need to find out. For Blue and Dok. Cause, Jackie, I think maybe… when it comes down to keeping all of us safe, or staying Anti’s brother - I think maybe, on that day, we’re going to have to hurt Anti.”

“Kill him?” asks Ro weakly.

“I don’t know. I don’t think I could watch that. But if he comes at us again and tries to hurt us like he did today, wouldn’t you rather that we had a way to stop him?”

Ro bites down on his lip.

“If he tried to hurt Blue like he hurt us today, wouldn’t you rather that you had a way to protect him?”

Oh, yes.

Instead of running away.

He would like to stand tall again.

nikkilbook asked: There is no “enough,” Jackie. There’s only you, and that’s all your brothers—your friends—have ever needed. Not the you that Anti has twisted you into thinking you’ve become, but the you that’s real. The you that says “I love you” by telling the truth. That’s who you are. And sometimes, the truth does mean fear. Because Anti is frightening. You deserve the right to be afraid. But fear does not mean cowardice, and it does not mean shame. You are not shameful for being afraid of him. Remember yourself, Astrifer. You’re the boy who loves by telling the truth.

Red - Ro - Jackie - hell, but he can never make one of them fit quite right. He thinks there used to be a truth to him, somewhere, before all the lines went blurry and his hands spilled so much blood in the name of someone who’s always hated him anyway.

JJ touches his palm.

The contact of skin makes Jackie shudder, but he’ll allow it, just for a moment. Beneath JJ’s touch, with a smell like the earth after rain, Jackie’s clean white hands rise with Red’s scars, revealing his present again.

“Anti always mocked you for being a terrible liar,” signs Dapper. “Because when you knew what was true, Jackie - that was when he was afraid of you.”

“What’s true, JJ?” he asks numbly.

JJ puts his head against his shoulder.

“Big brother, you’ve always known.”

Anonymous asked: Yeah, it's gonna be hard, I know. But we believe in you all, and we'll be right here with you to help.

“Okay,” says Jackie softly, an arm around Dapper’s waist, and he knows what it is to be holding him - natural, right, truthful.

“If you want me to, I’ll go talk to Jack.”

Dapper closes his eyes.

He thinks a part of him wanted Jackie to refuse. To refuse to allow Dapper to betray their false brother. But he said yes, and Dapper has.

“Okay.”

He hides in Jackie’s shoulder and tries to ignore everything else in the world but the feeling of his warmth beside him.

Anonymous asked: Where is Jack?

“Getting me hot choccy.”

“Holy shit. Don’t shorten it to hot choccy.”

“What? You don’t want hot choccy too?”

“That’s - hahaha. The worst possible spelling.”

“It’s the best way!”

“Don’t you have a sign for chocolate?”

“Maybe I like saying hot choccy! What!”

“Jay, haha, I - ”

The door pushes open.

Jackie’s on his feet in a second, adrenaline pumping, fists clenched, body taut.

He knows that face. He knows that energy in the air. It makes all his nerves light up like firecrackers.

Anti stares back at him, holding a little cafe cup in both hands.

No…

No, he was wrong. Not Anti.

He just looks like him.

Down to the second and third tattoo.

Down to the way his fingers move.

Down to the way his eyes gleam in the light.

“Hey, man,” comes his tired voice, coughing a little. He steps past Jackie and hands JJ his hot chocolate, setting a coffee down on the table beside him. “You just got here?”

“Yeah,” says Ro quietly. “Yeah, I did.”

“Mmh.”

Jack adjusts the white cap on his head and lays his head down at JJ’s side without another word, letting half-circled eyes slide shut.

Ro doesn’t move.

The air feels like a storm is coming, faraway lightning playing with the ends of his fingers. The air feels like the birds have flown away and the frogs are hiding.

Anonymous asked: Red, you alright?

“Um, yeah,” murmurs Ro, scratching at the back of his head. “Yeah, fine.”

But he’s nervous watching this person lying beside his little brother like nothing is wrong. Like they’ve known each other their whole lives. And Jack isn’t talking either, which means - worse still - Ro might have to start the conversation.

In all honesty, he just wants to take JJ and go back to the house, to have a few minutes of peace before they’re returned to that goddamn bathtub. He glances at his little brother, whose face has gone dead, his affect flat and his body tired. JJ lifts up his little pocketwatch, where only a sliver of gold, counting mercilessly down, continues to disappear.

Anonymous asked: What are you supposed to talk to Jack about, again?

“Anti,” mumbles Ro.

“Hm?” asks Jack, like a cat uncurling.

“Nothing,” replies Ro, backing off a little.

Anti. His master. How to hurt Anti. Anti, who hates Jack more than anything. Ro shouldn’t be doing this. But he told JJ he would. So they would have a way to protect themselves and each other if Anti becomes violent with them again before they can find a way to escape. Ro can’t watch his brothers get hurt anymore. He doesn’t want to be a bystander in their pain. He doesn’t want to be a coward.

He glances down at his outfit, clutching his hands into fists. A thick hood at his back, strong running sneakers, gloves on his fingers.

He wants to be a hero again.

Anonymous asked: Ro, there is a way to help Blue recover. When we were with Dok and the magicians, a magic book told a story of a girl who had her magic stolen and had the same ailments as Blue does now. The girl recovered and got her magic back when the thief was killed and had blood stolen from him and given back to the girl. There's a way to fix it, but something tells me you won't like this very much.

“Whoa, whoa, hold up, no way!” cries Ro in sudden alarm, making Jack sit up on the bed, blinking. “Nobody said killed, okay, what? What the fuck? Is that what JJ meant when he said Dok and Blue were trying to figure out how to hurt Anti? They’re going to - oh, fuck no! I’m not a part of that, okay?”

Terror and panic and guilt burst like a water balloon in his chest and overwhelm Ro with a sudden ferocity, making his eyes water.

“I’m gone, I’m out. This is fucked up. I know he’s cruel but I would never want to killhim. What’s wrong with Dok and Blue?”

“JB,” calls Jack. “What - what is going on?”

Ro locks eyes with him and gets no comfort from the face so much like his own. He turns and races out the door, needing to cry.

“JB!”

Anonymous asked: hey, red, it's okay. deep breaths, love. i know you don't want to kill him, and that's okay. no one says you have to. it might have to happen eventually, but right now we're just figuring out ways to protect them, okay? no one says you have to kill him, it's okay. we're just protecting your other brothers, that's all we plan to do.

“Might have to?” wheezes Ro, sweeping past a crowd of medical staff to race towards the stairwell. “Might have to happen… holy fuck… I didn’t… I’m not… but then, he’s the one who made me a killer, isn’t he?”

He shoves through the door into the stairwell, racing away, logical thought flown from his head. “But then, I do have to protect them, don’t I? I do, I do. I - ”

“Is this because I couldn’t do it?” cries Jack’s voice behind him, the door clicking open again. “Jackie, I tried, I - he was screaming for me! What was I supposed to do? He’s gone, isn’t he? Isn’t that what matters? I’m sorry.”

Ro stops dead, panting. Jack’s footsteps race down the stairs towards him.

Anonymous asked: red, do you think it's safe to tell jack what's happening? you don't have to, it just might help.

Ro lets out a shaky breath, turning to face Jack.

“Can we talk about this? Are you okay?” asks Jack, pushing a strand of long hair from his eyes and tucking it beneath his cap again.

His mouth is curled with guilt, his voice small and sad.

Ro stares at him, trying to make his heart stop pounding. He doesn’t know why he feels afraid of him - though it’s not uncommon for him to feel confused about what it is that he’s feeling or where it’s coming from. Jack, for his part, makes him feel like lightning is about to come down over his head.

“JB, you’re kind of scaring me,” he admits uncertainly, stepping forward to put a hand on Ro’s shoulder. “Are you - ?”

Ro jerks away from his touch, staring at him.

Jack’s eyebrows raise, a flash of something more sinister than confusion entering blue eyes.

No, wait…

One blue, one green.

Jack takes a step back, green eye swirling. “Is it you?” he asks, voice hardening. “Or is it… no, I would know if it were you. JB, what’s going on?”

Ro swallows. You have a good point - he’s going to have to tell Jack something, unless he’s about to become a much better actor than he’s been the whole rest of his life very suddenly.

“It is… it is Jackie,” he says.

“What’s going on?” asks Jack, the light fading from his right eye, leaving it blue again. “Is it just the hospital? Do you want me to walk you home? Where are your headphones?”

Anonymous asked: Do you think you could ask him what Anti's weaknesses are? That might be a place to start, Red.

“What were you taking about?” asks Ro quietly, taking another step away from him. “Just now, when you said you couldn’t do it. When you apologized.”

Jack’s shoulders slump. He waits for a moment to see if Ro will follow up or move again, but when he doesn’t, he lets out a deep, tired sigh and sinks back against the railing of the stairs.

There’s no walls on the outside of the stairwell. White light streams in as the colors of cars and people and the soft dappled green flickers of a few well-loved trees move around them in a silent dance.

“Look, I… I know you would rather I killed him,” says Jack, pushing round glasses up on his nose. “I’m sorry. If you’re mad, I just… didn’t have the guts for it, JB.”

Ro nods, eyes flickering. “How… how did he get weak enough that you could have killed him? What were you going to do?”

Uncertainty in blue eyes.

Jack stands up again.

“Jackie,” he says. “What year is it?”

Anonymous asked: uhhhh my guess is 2017? i don't know if i'm right though?

Ro bites down on his lip. “It’s 2017, Jack.”

Jack blinks at him.

Then he laughs, burying his face in his hands.

“Oh, my buddy,” he says. “Not even close.”

“Come on,” protests Ro, embarrassment making his cheeks flush.

Jack reaches up to shove his shoulder, making Ro start.

“Just tell me next time he sends you back! What’s up, man, you seem spooked as fuckkkk.”

He draws the word out and grins, his posture loose and relaxed again, bumping shoulders with Ro as he comes to stand next to him.

nikkilbook asked: He created you all, Jackie. He knows what JJ can do.

“Guess that’s true,” grumbles Ro, a little off-put.

“Thought you could get away with it,” teases Jack. “I shoulda smelled it even without you acting all weird. Why’d you hide that from me, Mr. Boyman?”

“You’re making fun of me.”

Jack’s joy falls out of his face. “Oh, um. Sorry. No, I was just playing. I’m sorry, I’ll stop. I didn’t… sorry. Um. What’s up?”

Anonymous asked: Can Jack hear (see?) us? What even are we rn?

I’ve said since the beginning that the camera system requires a suspension of disbelief at times when it’s not convenient. I describe the audience as a camera even when it doesn’t always quite make sense. For now, we’ll assume you’re a little camera clipped to Jackie’s hoodie or in his hoodie pocket, but he can still get your messages. Jack can’t see or hear you and doesn’t know you’re there.

Anonymous asked: He wasn't mocking you Ro. Anti may have used your name to belittle and hurt you, but Jack uses it to love you.

Ro flushes and ducks his head, rocking on his heels, uncomfortable. He isn’t the person Jack expects him to be, and he’s awkward on top of that, and he wants to go home.

“What’s wrong?” asks Jack, flustered.

“I just need to ask you some stuff,” mumbles Ro. “I don’t want to pretend we’re friends.”

Jack’s face falls. He doesn’t move for a second, his eyes flickering. He wraps his arms around himself in a hug, sets his mouth, and nods. “Okay… Fine. What’s up?”

Anonymous asked: It might take too long to explain everything, so maybe try saying you're worried about the others, and that it'd help to know Anti's weaknesses just in case you need to use them?

“I need to know about Anti’s weaknesses,” says Ro.

Jack looks up at him, blinking. “You just kicked his ass a week and a half ago in this year. How far in the future are you?”

“Don’t ask questions, please,” he answers quietly.

Jack rubs at his chest and adjusts his cap again. “I wish you’d tell me what’s wrong. I can help, right? Where am I in the future?”

“Not around, okay? I’m kind of… stuck. With him. I need to get out.”

“Well, it was you and Marv and JJ the other day,” says Jack. “I made sure there’s enough between the three of you to hurt him. Are Marv and JJ with you?”

“Kind of? But, come on, what did we even do to him? I don’t remember the fight well - hit my head.”

“Oh, okay.”

“You were apologizing,” says Ro. “What did you mean? When you said I’d rather he was dead?”

Jack shakes his head quickly, clasping his hands together. “JB, seriously, if that’s why you’re mad, I’m sorry, man. I’m really sorry. I can’t stop thinking about it… if I had just got my phone out and filmed it… but I let him live. He was there writhing beneath your hands, calling for me! What was I supposed to do? I know he took JJ but he’s still… he’s still…”

Jack shakes his head again, turning away. He pulls his cap lower over his eyes and hugs himself.

“You and Marv just beat him up as you would normally, I guess? Marv’s fire and you fighting him and JJ there to make sure it all went alright. And then you… you had him pinned down… you were both bleeding but Marvin had him trapped in his vines and he was too hurt to glitch away. He doesn’t have weaknesses, per say - I just made sure the five of you would be enough to defeat him if you could ever pin him down. And you did. I’m glad. I’m sorry I couldn’t finish him off.”

Anonymous asked: I don't know if telling Jack straight up that you're from a time where you're with Anti is a good idea, but perhaps getting to the point fast would be. How much time do you and JJ have left here?

“Oh, shit,” hisses Ro. “You’re right, I should have stayed with JJ. He has the clock.”

“Don’t worry about it,” says Jack quietly. “Here.”

He reaches into the pocket of his jacket and hands Jackie a clock just like JJ’s, with the little sliver of gold still counting down.

“How’d you get this? What the hell?”

“It’s not really a clock,” shrugs Jack. “Just a piece of his power. Our power. He and I can pull it out whenever we need it. But I can’t use it unless he’s nearby.”

“Why?”

Jack grins wryly. “Hey, I handed that power over when I made him. No use to me anyway. But when he’s close enough…”

“You can tap in.”

“Right.”

“Same with Blue?”

“What?”

“Er, Marvin?”

“Yeah, same with Marvin. And Anti, too.”

nikkilbook asked: All five? Are we talking power of friendship here, or do Schneep and Chase have specific contributions? And does it have to be you that films it, or is it just cameras in general? Would it have to be posted on the channel?

“Anybody could hurt Anti,” says Jack. “It’s just not often that people do because he can teleport and shapeshift. And he’s vicious. And smarter than most of his enemies, though of course he acts like a fucking idiot.”

“Yeah,” says Ro. “I’ve seen him hurt before, Jack, but he never dies. I don’t understand why.”

Jack lowers his eyes, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

Anonymous asked: Maybe ask him that if one of you couldn't do it, if he thinks it would still be possible to beat him again? Because Marvin doesn't have his magic right now, so he can't use it against Anti.

“Would we be able to beat him?” asks Ro. “If we couldn’t fight him like we can now?”

“You might be able to beat him,” mumbles Jack. “Anyone could beat him, even strangers to us, but only the five of you… well. Best chance is always getting the drop on him. Otherwise you gotta muster up enough strength and power to kick his ass, and that’s a lot harder.”

Anonymous asked: Okay, that went well. You could probably tell him that in your time you need to fight him, and so his weaknesses would be good to know?

“What do I need to know, Jack?” asks Ro, beginning to get frustrated. “Don’t cut corners or bullshit me. My family’s in trouble.”

Jack steps into his space, unafraid, eyebrows drawn back in worry. “Okay, deep breaths, okay? There’s nothing special to hurting Anti. You said you’ve seen people do it before.”

“Yeah,” says Ro. “In Singapore, there was a magician who fried him with electricity for about fifteen minutes and then set the house on fire, and he still didn’t die. I’ve seen a whole pack of magicians come after him. JJ says he’s seen Anti take all sorts of blows that should be mortal. He always comes out alive.”

Jack’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t question. He grips at Ro’s hoodie as he thinks.

“Listen, JB. I’m a creator, yeah. But creation doesn’t happen alone. There’s ways to focus power. Ways to make things happen. Like how Marvin can only grow plants if there’s already seeds or bits of them deep in the ground or nearby. There’s limits. There’s ways things have to be done.”

“Be direct,” Ro demands.

“You came to be not just because of my power, but because I shared you with other people,” says Jack earnestly, squeezing at the fabric of his jacket. “When I created most of you, you were pretty clearly human, so you can die like humans do, because that’s what people expect you to do. But Anti…”

“Isn’t human.”

“And that’s obvious about him from the start.”

“So he doesn’t die like a human.”

“No.”

“What does he die like?” Ro asks. “What is he then? A demon? A fairy? If you tell me then I’ll know how to kill him.”

“Right,” says Jack softly. “But that’s the thing. I… didn’t have a clear idea in mind when I created him. And I never told the audience jackshit about what he is.”

Ro stares at him, thinking.

“So…”

Jack clears his throat and closes his eyes. “Anti is confined only by the story that we tell. That means two things - you can’t kill him without telling the story, without building up to it, showing it, making it believable. And, two…”

Jack’s eyes open. His mouth is tight and trembling. He looks up at Jackie.

“It has to be one of the other characters in the story who kills him.”

Ro’s stomach drops.

“It has to be one of the five of you.”

Anonymous asked: why doesn't he die?

Ro clutches at Jack’s shoulders.

Tight.

He can’t help it. His brain is spinning. There’s nothing but a feeling he can’t name driving through his head, pounding against his skull, painful.

“You’re saying that Anti is immortal unless one of us kills him? One of his own brothers?”

Jack squirms a little beneath Ro’s tight grip, trying to back away, looking up at him in alarm. “Yeah. JB - ”

“And it has to be in front of a fucking audience? Like a public execution? No.”

“I made you real, but you’re characters at heart,” says Jack, panting a little as Ro squeezes tighter. “Since Anti’s not human, you have to tell the story.”

pine-storm-season asked: Would we count?

“How?” asks Ro weakly. “How can an audience be there?”

“Most of your story happened on my channel, over video.”

“On your channel?”

“Right,” says Jack, like it’s obvious.

“I… okay. So on video? Who has to see it?”

“Well, I don’t know exactly. The point would be… the point would be that the people who care about you, about these characters, about the people that you are - they would have to believe that something had changed.”

“They would have to believe that Anti had died.”

“Yes.”

“They’d have to see Anti die. See his corpse. See - ”

“Jackie, get off!” cries Jack, shoving at his arms as Ro’s grip begins to bruise, but Ro can barely breathe. He feels himself shove Jack back against the railing of the stairs. “Jackie, it’s okay, ow, you don’t have to squeeze me like that! It’s going to be okay, alright? Tell me where I can find you in the future! I’ll remember and I’ll come get you!”

Anonymous asked: Mmmh, is there really a point to avoiding telling Jack you don't remember him? I get that you didn't want to attract too much attention on yourself but at this point he's aware you're not from now and that there's something wrong. It's probably worth a shot, no?

“I don’t even know who you are!” cries Ro, trying to make himself let go of Jack, though he only seems to feel his fingers squeezing tighter. He can feel his heart racing, fast, fast, and he sees his vision going red. “If you think that Anti should die, why don’t you put his fucking costume on and film it yourself?”

“I was going to film it when you beat him!” shouts Jack. “You had him beat, had him hurt, and I had JJ back again, where he belongs! But he’s my creation too, Jackie! He was screaming for me to save him! How was I supposed to film that? Post that? He’s my boy too! I just wanted him to stop hurting JJ! He’s gone now, why can’t we just let him go!”

“He’ll come back!” screams Ro, shaking him, hard. “He’ll come back and spend the rest of his life hurting us!”

“Tell me where you are,” chokes Jack. “JB, I’ll come get you.”

“You left us the fuck alone!”

He lets go of Jack and staggers back, letting his creator crash back against the wall, panting.

“You’re not coming, Jack. You don’t even know me anymore. You never told the story in this timeline. It’s just the people who actually cared about us who remember.”

Jack stares up at him, shaking his head. “Jackie,” he croaks. “Jackie.”

And Red wonders if it’s the same way he said his name when Max came to his door, asking him where he was, and all Jack could do was stare at him and repeat their names like memories from dreams that were never real.

nikkilbook asked: He already tortures and abuses you in front of an audience. We’re the audience, Jackie. We’ve always been the audience. He rigged the cameras this way so he could make us watch, because he thought it was funny. Let us help you. Let us make a real difference.

“No, no, no,” chants Red. “No, no, no. This is awful. I don’t care if he’s terrible sometimes. He’s my little brother. I can’t… we can’t… not like that. Is that what Blue and Dok have been planning? I can’t, I…”

He needs to go home. Needs to see Anti. Needs to get back to JJ. He races towards his little brother, rushing up the stairs, his heart throbbing so hard it hurts in his chest.

“Let’s go,” pants Red, pushing back into JJ’s room. “Let’s go right now.”

JJ looks up from his hot chocolate, wiping at his tired eyes. “The timer’s almost up. Did you find out - ”

“Don’t talk about it, Dapper!” shouts Red, slamming his hand down on the table beside his bed.

nikkilbook asked: Remember yourself, Astrifer. Even if Ro-Red-Jackie don’t feel like they can fit, you can build a new identity, starting now. You can do this, Hero.

Ro covers his face with his hands, trying to breathe.

He needs to calm down. He can’t do this again. He can’t let his emotions control him so much. Make him so despairing, make him so angry. Make him so afraid. Surely Jackie never felt like this. That’s why he was a hero and Ro isn’t.

No, no.

Even saying that is letting the self-hatred win. He has to be stronger than it.

He slumps back into the hard plastic of the hospital chair at JJ’s side. Pulls the hood up over his head and hides in it, eyes closed, hugging his body the same way Jack did.

Okay. He’s okay. He just needs to calm down. He just got a little spooked. He’s okay. If Blue were here, he’d rock him and tell him he loves him and that it’s alright to be scared. If Max were here, he’d sit with him and talk to him until the terror passed and tell him he’s not going anywhere, even if he does get too angry and too loud and too aggressive sometimes.

And JJ sits with him, and doesn’t go anywhere either.

“Shit,” whispers Ro, beginning to uncurl from his ball when five minutes have passed. “I’m sorry for yelling at you… shit. I shouldn’t have grabbed him like that either. I don’t know why I… I’m sorry.”

JJ nods quietly, staring at him.

nikkilbook asked: Out of... curiosity, what would happen if we were able to help JJ get on meds and other supports from the very beginning? Would that do anything to prevent or weaken the psychotic episode that made Jack forget them?

“No, sorry,” says JJ softly, giving you a fleeting smile. “This is the timeline where Jack did create us and does know who we are. Nothing we do here will change the present. But thank you for thinking of me.”

Anonymous asked: You know the truth Ro. Anti is not, and never has been, your brother. You know the truth of brotherhood, and you've been there every time he's broken it.

It’s a truth that both of them are still struggling to grasp. It cuts Ro deep. He’s made Anti his whole life - his protection, his leadership, his service. But he’s known for a long time that his little brother does not love him. He’s told him things like that to his face, but Red still stays, because he wants to believe something different. The thought that all of this time and this life and this love that he’s given to Anti was for nothing is almost worse than if he had been trying to escape this whole time.

I gave myself over to this monster. I loved him. I never should have. We have to get away from him or I will never stop finding excuses for him.

For JJ’s part, what you’re saying is the truth of not just the last year, but of his whole existence. There was never anything but Anti. JJ tried for years to love him, and it was never enough. A part of him - fuck, more than a part of him - wishes desperately that he could still change his brother. Beneath his anger and his hurt, he just wishes that he had ever been enough to make Anti love him back. Maybe he did, time to time, but it never lasts.

Anonymous asked: Red, I know, bud. I know it's a really fucking hard thing to think about. I wouldn't want to kill any of my little siblings either. But killing Anti could save the life of Dok, or Trick, or Blue, or Jamie, it might be that for one of them to live Anti has to die. I'm sorry, Red, I know this is incredibly hard. And it doesn't have to happen now, okay? No one says you have to go back to your time and kill him immediately. But you might have to later, Red, love, and I'm sorry you do.

“Even if I don’t kill him,” whispers Red, whispers Ro, whispers Jackie. “We still have to go. Like I promised you. I’ll get you away from him. Okay?”

“Okay,” answers JJ despondently. “Okay.”

“I really shouldn’t have grabbed Jack. He asked me to stop and I didn’t even listen. If someone did that to me I’d lose it. I’ve got to go tell him I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have much time.”

nikkilbook asked: You are not to blame for choosing to love him. Either of you. He is wrong for choosing to hurt you with it.

“You know what? You’re fucking right. Especially because he’s a goddamn hypnotist. I just… I don’t understand why he would go to all this trouble of making us feel this way for him if he didn’t really want to love us back. We could be a real family… why not just kill us? I - ”

He catches sight of Jack, still sitting in the stairway, right where Red left him.

His face is covered by his hands. His glasses are abandoned on the ground beside him. He doesn’t move.

Red steps down towards him, mouth opening, but no words come out.

He stands above Jack for a long minute. His creator never moves.

Ro sits down beside him and touches his arm.

Jack lets his head fall against Jackie’s shoulder, face still hidden, crying quietly into his hands. And it’s only now that Ro sees just how tired he is - it’s in the curve of his shoulders, the bow of his legs, the subtle shaking of his fingers.

“Have you… been staying up with JJ at the hospital?” asks Ro softly.

“Don’t want to let Anti get him again,” whispers Jack. “Don’t want him to get any of you again. But now I know I can’t protect you. It’s my fault. I should have killed him when he was crying for me. It’s my fault.”

Anonymous asked: Jack? I don't know if you can see this, if so Red maybe tell him, but Jack, it's not your fault for being kind enough to spare him. I'm sorry that he took that and used it against the others, but Jack, you are not to blame for letting him go. You couldn't know what was going to happen. You're not to blame.

“Hey,” says Jackie, taking his hand in his own, drawing it away from his face. Jack looks up at him with Anti’s eyes. It makes Ro’s heart hurt.

“I’m sorry, buddy,” says Jack, eyes red, voice rasping. “I should never have let this happen.”

And Red wants to tell him a million things, everything you’ve told him to say and more. Things like “it’s not your fault” and “it’s not wrong that you loved him, that you didn’t want to kill him, I feel the same way” and “I know I wasn’t very nice, but I hope you know that I have wondered about you for the longest time and that, even though it hurt, I think meeting you just this once fixed something inside of me - ”

But it’s too late.

Time’s up.

“Jack,” says Red, and then he’s gone.

Anonymous asked: Did any time pass at all? Are we back to the bathtub?

You are back in the bathtub.

Ro struggles for a second, spasming against the ropes that bind him before he realizes his situation and surroundings and forces himself to quiet again, shaking with the pain of his aching muscles and the discomfort of being bound and wet.

That’s when he becomes aware of the screaming.

“Hey, wake up!” Anti shrieks, shaking Dapper’s shoulders. “My little brother, my little brother!”

Time has passed.

Dapper is unconscious, bleeding from his nose - he has been for several minutes.

“What’s wrong with you?” Anti tears the collar off his throat and cradles him against his chest. “He was fine! I was watching, he was fine! Dapper! Jamie!”

“Anti,” begins Red shakily.

“Shut up!” screams Anti. “This is your fucking fault for stealing his medicine! Get the fuck out of my sight! Carver, Monochroma!”

Red yelps as the rope around his body combusts into a short burst of flame, singeing his legs and his blue hoodie.

Anonymous asked: Red? Dap? You guys okay?

Red is shaken and hurting, but no worse than he has been the rest of the night. He still desperately, desperately wants to get out, get a shower, put on clean clothes, and just sleep, but now his little brother is weak.

Dapper has gone frigid pale, but then he’s always so white. This nosebleed is worse than most of his casual ones. It’s like a vessel has popped in his nose, sending streams of red dribbling down his mustache and beard and all the way down to his shirt. Ro thinks he sees him twitch for a moment, his eyes flickering, and he wonders if it’s safer for Dapper to be unconscious as long as his eyes are silver anyway. He recovered alright last time, didn’t he? But he’s still so black and blue from the night before, still wheezing and trapped in Anti’s arms…

“I said get out!” shouts Anti, throwing a shampoo bottle hard at Ro’s head. Ro startles and leaps out of the tub, retreating to the doorway of the bathroom.

Anonymous asked: red, can you go? i don't trust anti at all, but he sounds actually worried for dapper and so i think you should leave him be, i don't think dapper will get hurt worse.

“Okay, okay,” he pants, backing out of the room. “Just… keep an eye on him for me.”

Dripping water, he races away and down the stairs, casting one glance back at that room at the top of the hall. The door slams shut and locks.

Anonymous asked: anti, is he okay?

“Well, I don’t know, I don’t know what went wrong!” he cries, sweeping Dapper into his arms and rising like he weighs nothing. “It’s not catatonia, it’s not a concussion, he’s breathing alright… shit, Dap, what were you doing? Oh, fuck’s sake, this is cracked, and not in the good way.”

He’s gripping at Dapper’s side, feeling the shifting of his ribs.

“Goddamn, goddamn… I barely threw him around! He’ll have to rest. I’ll tape it. It will hurt for a long time, but he’s still breathing well enough. Nothing punctured. Come here, my doll, lie down…”

Anonymous asked: do you think this might be his body shutting down from getting hurt, or something?

“It’s because he time-traveled,” mumbles Red from the bottom of the stairs, looking up at locked door. “Going back a day or so - he can do that maybe a half-dozen times without it knocking him out. But going back so far… it’s like in Colombia, when he passed out afterwards. It takes a lot out of him.”

Ro sighs and rubs at his face, stepping into the hallway, looking around. Everything is so quiet. Where are the others?

“Think I’m going to get a shower,” he mumbles. “I’m gross and exhausted.”

Anonymous asked: Anti, do you know how to help him?

Anti grits his teeth in frustration and turns away from you, setting Dapper down in their bed. He sinks into the mattress and the pillows as Anti pulls the blankets over him and strokes his knuckle down the side of his face, his own expression twisting with fear and anger and exhaustion all at once.

“Why do you keep causing me so much trouble?” he growls, though his voice breaks halfway through. He grabs Dapper’s unmoving face between his fingers, trembling with the urge to squeeze until he leaves bruises. He forces himself to let go instead, sinking down onto his knees beside him. “You used to be so good for me. We never fought. I never had to discipline you. Why did this fall apart…”

He growls again and strikes his own face like he’s waking himself up, letting a shiver run up his spine and then, with a soft sigh that ruffles the bedsheets, letting his head sink onto the bed beside his brother, and closing his eyes.

Dapper’s eyes flicker, showing blue and silver. Anti is lying beside him, touching his hand. It hurts Dapper’s heart.

Anonymous asked: Red, you doing alright?

“Um, no, everything sucks and I’m probably going to lose it later and just… I just need a break. From all this. Hey, at least Blue’s not in bed. Worried about him sleeping so much. Don’t tell him I’m upset. I’m just getting a shower, okay? See you guys later. And… thanks for the help.”

He leaves you on his bed and heads into the bathroom, stripping off his clothes for the hamper as he goes.

Anonymous asked: Is Dap still out?

Anti’s eyes slide open as Dapper’s fingers curl around his own.

They look at each other. Dapper’s eyes, barely open, are tired and silent. He’s joyless lately. He’s numb.

“Where’d my little boy go?” mumbles Anti, pressing his forehead against their joined hands.

Dapper closes his eyes again. The wind is brushing against the screen over their window. The trees sway outside. A clock is ticking.

“Look,” says Anti. “I… I didn’t think about how Dark would scare you. Alright? I should have. I just wanted to see them again. I didn’t do it on purpose to make you upset. I didn’t realize you were still upset about them. I could have asked.”

Dapper blinks, opening his eyes to look at him.

“Dap. I’m sorry.”

Dapper’s mouth parts. He glances away, awake now. Anti doesn’t look up from their hands.

“When I said I wanted us to be friends again,” he mumbles, quiet and begrudging. “I meant it.”

Dapper touches his side, his bruised face darkening with unhappiness and hurt - and something deeper, too.

Anonymous asked: Are you more hurt than before, dap, or is it just still hurting?

“I’m more tired than before,” he admits, drawing his hand gently away from Anti’s. “That’s all.”

“Maybe you just needed a second out,” sighs Anti. “But I couldn’t wake you up. Just rest. You’re such a fucking… I just… just… just rest.”

Dapper nods, not sure what to say.

“I didn’t mean for you to get really hurt. I was just mad. Don’t do that again.”

Anonymous asked: Anti, you're calm now? Not gonna hurt anyone at the moment?

“Why don’t you fuck off,” sneers Anti, turning to you, but Dapper takes his hand and pulls his attention back.

“Yeah, we’re done,” mutters Anti, nuzzling back into his hand. “Quiet time, whatever. We’re going to stay up here and watch the trees so Dark doesn’t try to pull shit tonight. Tonight or tomorrow, I expect. We’re just resting.”

Anonymous asked: Don't fall for his same old excuse Jamie. "I was just angry" doesn't cut it this time. Don't forgive him this time, he could have killed you and Ro.

“Look, you shouldn’t have taken that medicine.”

“I just didn’t want to be - ”

“You have to listen to me, Dap! I wasn’t going to let anything actually happen to you.”

Dapper sighs, shaking his head. Anti squirms, frustrated, and gets to his feet. He touches Dapper’s beard and strokes his fingers through the short hairs. Carver looks up at him, his body aching.

“It’s been hard sleeping without you,” says Anti.

Dapper purses his mouth, but he nods. It’s been hard for him too.

Anonymous asked: He used love as a tool of manipulation. The main reason he bothered with love, with the brother and twin hierarchy, was to ensure you never left him and went back to Jack, was to ensure you never stood up for your true family, to solidify the deaths of your sense of self.

Manipulation. Tools. Weaponry. Love.

The slow death of self.

Red stands in the shower and thinks about it, head bowed, the water running down his skin.

But for Dapper - for JJ, for Carver, for Monochroma - there never was any self before Anti. There was never anyone to go back to.

“You have to be nicer to me if you want to be friends,” he protests weakly. “You can’t keep hurting me.”

“I… I’m sorry about the cracked rib too,” says Anti. “Okay? Fuck. I shouldn’t have fucked around with your medication in the first place. It was stupid. I’m sorry. But you can’t just disobey me either. You’re rebellious by nature because we’re cut from the same cloth, Dap. You and me - we’re the same. But at the same time, I’m big brother, and I’m the one who has to be in charge. Sometimes you make things so hard from me… I’ve been trying to make amends and it’s like you threw it back in my face. We’re supposed to be brothers. You know I don’t have anyone without you… not really.”

Dapper’s eyes water. He turns away, closing his eyes.

Anti sighs, a slight whimper in the noise. He puts a hand on Dapper’s side to be mindful of his ribs, and then he crawls into the bed beside him, and - carefully, carefully - wraps himself around his baby brother.

“Why you’re crying?” he whispers, stroking his hair. “It’s okay now. I’m sorry. I am. I’m right here.”

But Dapper doesn’t know why he’s crying. It’s not even because of the pain of every part of his body being coated in bruising. He doesn’t know.

“You have to stop hurting me, Anti, I don’t understand, I try to be good… I love you, I do, I…”

Anti listens to him. Pressed against his body. Rocking him gently against the bed.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

He holds him for a long time.

“You’re tired. Sleep. We’ll rest. I’ll watch. Go to sleep.”

Anti lays his body down against the bed, pushing the pillows beneath him and tucking him in. He strokes Dapper’s beard, staring at him.

“I love you,” he whispers, his eyes closing, like it’s not a truth he can admit while looking him in the face.

Dapper closes his eyes too, hot with tears. The pressure on the bed beside him could just as well be Jack, watching over him in the hospital, but it isn’t.

It never is.

He’s so tired.

“I love you too,” he signs, and JJ lets his head rest against his brother’s.

Anonymous asked: Trick, Blue, Dok, are you three still alright?

You can find Trick and Dok dozing on the couch downstairs. Trick’s been talking to him and trying to ground him for a few hours now, and he’s exhausted from the emotional toil - but he still figures he’s doing better than his twin, who is only just now coming back from his panic.

At least Dok looks cozy and content now. Trick’s wrapped him up in blankets and made him a cup of the coffee he gave him for Christmas. Dok is so enamored with the smell he hasn’t even bothered to drink any yet. He sits breathing in the smell and holding the warm mug in his hands, his knees drawn up to his chest and his eyes sleeping. Trick lies down on the couch beside him. They haven’t seen Blue in a while when Trick hears his footsteps coming down the stairs.

Anonymous asked: Blue? Dok? Where are you guys? Is everything okay?

“Trick,” says Blue softly, padding towards him.

“Hmmmm,” hums Trick, lounging beside his brother. He lets his eyes slide open and finds himself very suddenly wide awake.

“Blue? Why do you have…?”

He trails off, staring up at him.

Blue holds the big kitchen knife limply in his left hand.

“I was thinking about cutting myself,” he says.

His voice is very dull. His face is numb. He barely looks at Trick. Like he’s seeing right through him.

“But then I thought I should tell somebody.”

“Oh,” says Trick. “Good… good job. Telling. Yeah. Can I have that?”

Blue lets him take the knife from him. Trick is stammering too much to speak. Dok takes a long drink of his coffee and lets out a deep, contented sigh, his eyes glazed.

“Dok looks better,” says Blue, turning to head back up the stairs.

“Come here, bud, come here,” gasps Trick, finding his voice. “Hang out with us a while, yeah, love?”

“Okay, Tricky.”

“Okay.”

Anonymous asked: Blue, you ok?

Blue squints at the camera.

“They asked if you’re okay,” Trick manages.

Blue looks at him like he doesn’t understand the question. Trick reaches out and grips his hand tightly, drawing him down to sit with them.

“What’s, uh. Are you… What’s going on?” asks Trick shakily.

“Not much,” answers Blue. “How ‘bout you?”

“We’re… we’re… Blue, what’s going on?”

“Not much, Trick.”

Trick scrapes at his hair, gritting his teeth in his mouth. “Blue, why were you going to cut yourself? Please help me understand?”

Blue stares down at the silver gleam of the blade in his brother’s hand.

“I was just in the bathroom and I thought maybe it would help. But then I thought, I have to tell someone, because that’s not right.”

“I’m glad you told me.”

“Well, yeah, you’re my darling,” says Blue. At last, Trick hears a little emotion in his voice: fondness. But still no fear or distress. He’s just… numb.

“I just wanted to check,” says Blue.

“Check what?”

“That the blood… that the blood is mine,” answers Blue bizarrely, touching Trick’s cheek. “Oh, dear… I’m feeling a little faint. I’m really far away from you. I don’t know where I am.”

“Roll your pants up a little and let me check you didn’t hurt yourself.”

Blue obeys, unperturbed. His thighs and stomach and arms are all untouched. Trick grips at his shoulder, massaging his muscles, and Blue relaxes a little.

“You like to be touched when you’re like this, right?” asks Trick, because he doesn’t know what else to say.

Blue nods, eyes flickering. Trick pushes towards him and wraps him arms tightly, tightly around him, kissing his cheek and pressing their bodies close together. He can feel his own chest shaking. He doesn’t want to get triggered, but he won’t leave Blue alone.

Anonymous asked: Blue, if you're interested to know, Anti just kicked out Red of the bathroom he chained him in. It's, uh, it's good news yeah?

Blue sighs through his nose, humming a little.

“Better a bathroom than flesh to keep us. Still stuck, though. Still stuck. I’m in the walls of this house. Or nowhere at all.”

You hear Trick swear quietly against him, but he just holds him tighter, rubbing circles into his shoulder with his thumb.

.

“Hey,” somebody whispers, but Dok is really too tired to care who.

“Mpf,” he replies, letting his head lull over to the other side of the couch. This has the chain reaction of stirring Blue from his sleep, but he too only flops back onto the arm of the couch.

The hand that reaches down to brush Dok’s shoulder is warm. He hears a tired little laugh. “Come on, Schneep, wake up.”

“Mmffff…. I’m up, I’m up. Trick?”

“It’s Roser.”

“Where’s Trick?”

“I waited til he went upstairs to cook you guys some dinner. I need to talk to you.”

Dok tries to rouse himself at last, shoving his glasses back up his nose and turning to look at Red. “What’s going on?”

There are eyes crossed out on your cameras. Ro has turned Anti’s sight away. They don’t have long before he notices.

“Dok,” says Red, looking him in the eyes. “Have you really been planning to kill Anti?”

Adrenaline pours into Dok’s blood and he chokes, sitting up quickly on the couch, drawing his knees to his chest. He’s going to flip out. He’s going to scream. He’s going to cry again.

“Red, Red,” he gasps, hiding his face from him. “Don’t punish me.”

“Fuck, Dok, no, no, I won’t, I swear, I just… I just need to know. Schneep, don’t cry…”

“He said he’s going to kill me,” sobs Henrik. “In a couple days. He said he’s done with me, he’ll murder me. I’m scared, I don’t want to die.”

“Okay,” says Red quietly, and it’s shocking enough that he doesn’t freak out himself that it makes Henrik almost stop, looking up at him in surprise, sniffling. Red touches the back of his head. “Okay, come on, then. I want you to go get your shoes on.”

“What?”

“Blue’s not well,” answers Red, drawing away from him. Dok sees a backpack stuffed full on his back, his shoes already on his feet, Blue’s cane in his hand. “And you’re in trouble. Come on. We’re going to the hospital.”

#chapter four

[glassworkspiderlilies]

the earth shudders at the tower asunder (2/4)

Genshin Impact | Lumine & Venti (+ Mondstadt Chapter Cast) | AO3 Summary: Lumine arrives in Mondstadt and becomes willingly entangled in its affairs. Notes: Chapter 2 of the primordial!travelers AU, approx 7.5k words. Follows the events of the prologue. :)

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They look at her oddly, these knights of Favonius.

Lumine supposes she can understand why; in the months she had been alone, struggling to gather the bits of herself together enough so that she could start moving and find Aether, she has grown…very quiet. Lumine had never been loud to begin with, but…her control over herself is tenuous at best now, and the more she speaks, the more she feels as though she will crumble. So she doesn’t, or as little as she can.

She suspects she looks as fragile as she feels.

Paimon, bless her soul, is chatty enough for the two of them. She picks up where Lumine falters, which is often, and her manner is so cheerful and innocent that Lumine is able to feel marginally more grounded as she is integrated back into civilization.

(She is so grateful for Paimon; she doesn’t think the fairy will understand just how much.)

Are you a new ally…or a new storm?

Kaeya had asked this, when Lumine had descended safely from the sky after Stormterror’s winds had whipped her upwards after finally setting foot in Mondstadt—and could Amber understand too, how grateful Lumine was to receive the glider and feel the delight of being in the skies once again?—but she didn’t have an answer to give him. She is neither; she merely is.

The true question is what he will deem her.

I understand the anguish of being separated from family, he’d said too, and she had met his eye and softly asked, do you?

It had not been asked derisively, but as a true, honest question, because she wanted to know if he could understand the cavernous emptiness inside of her. It would be a relief if he did.

But his eye had widened slightly, and he said nothing more. His gaze had only grown a little more piercing after that.

Even know, he is watching her with more scrutiny than the others.

“Lumine? You’re spacing out again,” Paimon says, floating in front of her to draw her attention.

Lumine blinks, and she touches her own cheek, as if she is returning from far away and assuring herself she is still corporeal.  

“I’m sorry,” she says, and Kaeya’s lips lift in a smile.

“Were you distracted by my good looks?” he teases, “I must say, receiving such attention from the Hero of Mondstadt isn’t so bad.”

She blinks at him, tilting her head a little in thought. She is no hero, and as for Kaeya’s looks…

“A pretty man can be no secret,” she says absently, “But secrets are what you’re made out of nonetheless, isn’t it?”

A silence.

But then Lisa and Jean chuckle, the latter hiding it behind her hand, while Amber puts her hands on her hips and grins.

“Wow, you’ve just met him and you’re spot on!” Amber says cheerily, “It’s true, Kaeya’s always up to something.”

“It’s part of what makes him one of our most excellent knights,” Jean adds, with a smile.

“Hey now, she never said it was a bad thing,” Kaeya says, but there is a deeper curiosity about him as he looks back at Lumine. “But enough about me—let’s move on, shall we? Will our esteemed traveler sojourn in Mondstadt while we put word out for her brother, and lend us her aid?”

Lumine looks at him, then Jean, who inclines her head in question.

She stares at her for a long time, caught up, suddenly, by wisps of memory. She cannot recall them clearly, but she thinks about sweet faces turning malicious, and the scent of iron.

“Lumine,” Paimon prods gently, once more.

“I’m sorry,” she repeats, then focuses on Jean again. “My help. Will you accept the responsibility of taking it?”

Jean’s eyebrows rise, perplexed at the wording, but reaches out her hand resolutely.

“I will,” she says, voice firm, and Lumine graces her with a faint smile before pressing her fingers against Jean’s in the briefest of handshakes.

“So be it,” Lumine murmurs.

The four Favonius knights exchange significant looks, and Lumine excuses herself to let them speak without her.

Paimon bounces excitedly when they are outside, her eyes glistening, already used to Lumine’s odd way of speaking and finding nothing of note remiss.

“Let’s get this done and have the Sticky Honey Roast Amber promised!!” she exclaims, and Lumine smiles.

Simple pleasures and small goals—yes, she can handle these. Paimon is with her, and those knights…they’ve accepted responsibility for the price of her aid.

(But what price is that? She no longer quite remembers, and wonders about the pooling uneasiness inside of her.)

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The bard feels like home.

Each pluck of his lyre soothes her; she closes her eyes and for the moments that the notes sweeten the air, she feels like she is back in the early days with Aether, running through fields and collecting flowers at their leisure. Before…before everything (everything?), when they were together and playing around without a care in the world.

Their separation already feels like eons, though surely it cannot be that long.

Tears prick at the corners of her eyes as she opens them. The melody changes then, and the tone of the bard’s voice shifts to a deeper, more somber tone, drawing attention for a dramatic ballad.

He tells a story, of friendship between fair bard and curious dragon, and the tragedy that split them apart: a desperate war with a price perhaps too high to pay, venomous blood inducing a long slumber, the denouncement that followed once the dragon awoke…and the damning absence of the only voice that could reach him thereafter.

Lumine’s tears do fall then while the bard ends his tale, sweeps a bow, and scans his eyes over his audience. He looks startled when he meets her dewy gaze, and almost wary when Paimon leads their approach. Lumine wipes the wetness on her cheeks away with a brush of both hands, and the bard tilts his head in slight recognition.

“I can’t say I’ve never had anyone cry at my performances,” he says, running his fingers over the strings aimlessly, “But I confess I was surprised to see you weep so openly while everyone else was quite dry-eyed.”

“I was lost in thought,” Lumine admits, “But your tale too was…sad.”

The bard looks at her with a faint smile, plucking out a simple melody, and something in her stirs at the tune. His gaze is open and curious as he looks between her and Paimon.

“I know you, don’t I? You were the ones that scared Dvalin away.”

“Dvalin…?” Paimons wonders, and as she and the bard argue over names, Lumine studies the boy.

“The dragon. He is your friend,” Lumine says, and Paimon looks startled. “You were speaking to him, when we interfered.”

The bard smiles.

“That you did, and the price to pay was not a pretty one,” he says, but offers nothing more.

“Your song, too, was about him,” she continues, but the bard continues to smile in silence. “Your name?”

“Venti the bard. Three time winner of ‘Most Popular Bard of Mondstadt,’ to be precise. What is it you need from me?”

“That is not your real name,” Lumine muses, sure of this somehow as she ignores the question, and Venti raises an intrigued brow.

There is a second where his gaze sharpens, but Paimon interrupts impatiently.

“Nevermind that, Lumine, show him!” the fairy insists, and Lumine obediently brings out the red crystal—though it is no longer red.

Venti looks surprised at the sight of its blue glow; his face grows soft, and sad as he speaks once more to Dvalin’s anguish. He puts another red crystal into her hands with a request for purification, and Lumine stares at the tear resting atop her palm.

Lisa had said it stung, when the first one had been brought to her—hurt even to come close. But it simply sits heavy in Lumine’s hand, and she can feel the pain and sorrow contained in it. Filled with impurities, Lisa had said of the crystal, but while the power has been twisted, the emotions are not. The strength of it pulses red, and Lumine—Lumine understands.

Her fingers close around the tear, she closes her eyes, and she sighs.

Come back. Come back to me, back home.

She hears Paimon and Venti gasp, and when she opens her eyes and hand again, the crystal glows a calming blue.

Venti’s eyes are wide and luminous as he stares at her.

“You…” he begins, eyebrows furrowing a little as he puzzles something out. “…Really do have some wonderful abilities. Someone like you is going to end up getting written into a bard’s poem.”

He hums a few rough lines, but Lumine is faraway again. Songs and poems dedicated to her, once upon a time…there were things like that, weren’t there?

“Anyway…even if Dvalin is not taken down, his life will still wither away in the breeze…he’ll burn himself out in the flames of anger.”

Lumine blinks, coming back to the present. A breeze blows through the square, and though the bard isn’t playing, she hears a faint keening melody.

“Save him,” she says, looking up at the sky, voice distant, and Venti smiles.

“I’ve a plan,” he says, “So one must be going. You’re coming too, right? To the symbol of Mondstadt’s Hero.”

“Hey! What makes you so sure we’re just gonna follow you around like that?” Paimon pouts at the presumption, and Venti inclines his head.

“Didn’t you come looking for me in the first place? And, somebody did interrupt me when I was trying to communicate with Davlin,” he says, running his fingers across his lyre again, “And now I’ve got the same poison running through my veins for the trouble.”

Paimon wilts a little, letting out a soft “oooogh…” at his argument, then floats back up again once she fully processes what he’s said, her eyes wide.

“Wait—poison?!”

“Yes, so one must be going,” Venti repeats patiently, then dashes off this time without looking back.

Paimon and Lumine look at each other, and follow.

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“Your presence seems to help quite a bit,” Venti greets amicably, as Lumine and Paimon come to stand beside him underneath the great tree.

Lumine blinks at him, then holds out her hand. Venti blinks back, then grins.

“That’s not necessary, but if you insist…”

He takes her hand, and they stare up at the tree together.

“I’d like to know more about the God of Anemo,” she tells him, and he looks at her, eyes wide.

“Barbatos? He already disappeared from Mondstadt a long time ago. Liyue and Inazuma’s gods are still present, but it has been many a moon since Mondstadt saw theirs.”

Lumine looks at him now too, her face impassive.

“Do not lie to me,” she says.

It is said gently, not at all unkindly, but Venti’s eyes widen again marginally as he observes her. There is a faint power in her words, like an old talisman whose ability has faded, but is still recognizable as an object that once held it.

“It’s not a lie,” Venti smiles, tilting his head inquisitively as he lets her hand go, “…Merely carefully worded.”

Lumine repeats what he said in her mind carefully, and concedes to this truth. She smiles faintly back, then takes back his hand to his amusement, and looks up again at the tree.

“What do you need us to do?” she asks, and Venti laughs delightedly at this free offering of help.

“You could come with me to claim a certain Lyre de Himmel,” he says.

“Isn’t that stealing?” Paimons queries, and Venti grins at her.

“Not quite. I said claim, did I not?”

Paimon grumbles at him, but Lumine squeezes his hand gently before letting go.

“Will it save him?” she asks, and Venti inclines his head.

“It might,” he says, but she isn’t looking at him anymore, eyes turned to the blue sky instead.

“Then let’s go,” she murmurs, and Venti wonders just who or what it is she’s really looking to save.

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Events swirl around her without abandon. She becomes more and more entangled in Mondstadt’s affairs, but she doesn’t begrudge it, either, willingly letting herself be swept up in them. There’s a pull, a want to right the wrongs that have been done—and she is somewhat afraid of the outcome, because she cannot control the results that could be devastating, but she does want to try.  

(Why is that, she wonders. Is it pity? No. But she likes the smiles on everyone’s faces, feels glad to have offered her help when their relief shows. She may be without her powers, but this, too, is a kind of power as well, is it not?)

It feels very mortal, to want to try. Even if she herself is not human, the feeling is…warm.

They sit in Angel’s Share, after the fiasco with the Fatui stealing the lyre and having to explain the situation to Diluc and Jean. Having failed at pilfering alcohol, Venti—whom they all now know specifically as Barbatos himself—wheedles a very patient Diluc for wine. Jean has her hands folded and brows furrowed in thought over a glass of Berry & Mint Burst as they all consider their next step on retrieving the lyre.

Paimon, meanwhile, sucks up apple juice at an alarming rate.

Diluc eventually slides a glass of grape juice towards Lumine, who sits without a drink for some time whilst lost in thought. She looks up at him, mildly surprised at the gesture. He raises a brow at her but says nothing, so she also says nothing before sliding it closer to herself and taking a sip.

The flavor blooms in her mouth; it is sweet and slightly tart, full-bodied and bursting with life. She smiles, and Diluc looks satisfied.

“What a shame you’re underage!” Venti exclaims when he notices, swirling a glass of dandelion wine that he has somehow managed to procure. “You’re really missing out on Angel Share’s finest.”

Lumine takes another sip of juice, not breaking eye contact.

“Underage?” she murmurs, trying to think back. It’s no use; she and her brother had never measured time by proper mortal standards. “Is…that how I look to you?”

Everyone stares.  

“…And how old are you, Traveler?” Jean asks politely, and Lumine shakes her head at the question.

“I can’t remember,” she murmurs, and Paimon hmphs before the situation becomes too awkward.

“What’s the big deal? Paimon doesn’t know how old she is, either! And anyway, wine is gross! It’s all weird and sour…Paimon doesn’t think Lumine is missing out at all!”

Lumine smiles.

“An order of fried radish balls for Paimon,” she says to a Diluc, who motions to a waitress, and the fairy cheers.

“Yesss! You’re the best, Lumine!”

But the other three continue to stare, though Diluc returns to polishing glasses, and Venti sips his wine thoughtfully as he scrutinizes her.

“Could you be another Archon, somehow?” he muses, tilting his glass towards her, “But if you were a god, it’d be strange that I couldn’t tell. And yet…I hesitate to say you feel...hm…normal. But not abnormal, either?”

“I’m not a god,” Lumine demurs, “I’m just…me.”

Venti laughs, and Jean smiles and nods in approval.

“I’ll drink to that,” Venti says, gently clinking his glass against hers and following his words.

But his eyes remain thoughtful, and wondering.

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Diluc and Jean are looking at her oddly again when she purifies the remaining crystals they have gathered, amazed and pleased with the results, yet also curious.

Lumine says nothing, for she can no longer speak to what she is, anyway.

They infuse the Lyre de Himmel with the tears’ powers, and make their way to Starsnatch Cliff. Lumine shivers as they approach, reminded of the aching, lonely days beneath its tall crags, and Paimon plops herself on top of Lumine’s head comfortingly. She reaches up for the fairy’s small hand, and feels a little better at the touch.

The view atop the cliff, however, is unfailingly beautiful, and Paimon voices her thoughts in awe.

“Lovely for a fated reunion, isn’t it?” Venti grins. He breathes in deep as he stands at the tip of the cliff, just short of dangerously close to falling. “Well—we must be prepared for a fight.”

Always for a fight, Lumine thinks with an ache in her chest, but everyone seems to be rather optimistic, regardless.

Venti takes his position, and begins his melody.

The notes are crisp in the cool air, and she recognizes the same song he had played in Mondstadt’s square when they had first spoken to him. But so too can she tell that what he plays now is different, the music infused with a particular quality that only the God of Anemo can achieve. A tale of friendship and wonder…like the first time, she can feel the tears welling up in her eyes, the emptiness inside her even more present in the face of this performance.

Before Venti’s song can break her, Dvalin surges up from underneath the cliff, the ensuing wind nearly too strong for them to withstand as they attempt to shield themselves with their hands. Only the bard stands undisturbed by the violent wind.

Home, home, come home—

“You have come…what has been done…cannot be undone…”

Lumine’s heart aches at the sound of the dragon’s voice. She watches as Dvalin slowly descends, and dragon and bard finally confront each other.

“Then why do I see sadness in your eyes?” Venti counters, his voice carrying clear despite the wind, “Sadness that speaks of your yearning for this song…”

For a moment, the dragon’s glowing eyes grow less harsh as he hesitates.

“They’re communicating…” Jean murmurs in fascination, and Lumine turns to her for a brief, damning second.

An arrow flies true. The Holy Lyre is shot from Veti’s pale hands, the instrument’s arm shattering further as it hits the ground, strings snapping with strident, discordant twangs.

“No! Tone-Deaf Bard!” Paimon shrieks with concern as they all rush to his aid.

An Abyss Mage floats from behind Dvalin’s neck tauntingly, its poisonous voice rooting its lies.

“Do not be fooled by him, dear dragon…he left you to rot alone. Now he attempts to deceive you once more!”

“No!” Venti cries out, and Lumine’s heart cracks at the desperation in his voice, “Listen to me!”

“Barbatos…” Dvalin breathes, wavering as if unsure.

But not unsure enough. Too many years between them, and too many years under the influence of the dark blood that taints him.

“Let your wrath fester! Mondstadt has already turned its back on you!” the Abyss Mage screeches, and Dvalin roars in anger.

Lumine acts, summoning her sword. Diluc and Jean’s eyes widen as she throws it with terrifying speed—but she misses the Mage by a breadth, and Lumine clicks her tongue as her blade returns to her hands. The Mage cackles at the miss, and Dvalin loops the air before rushing forward.

“You! You planned this all along, to have me slain?!”

He does not yet attack, only intimidates. But he is so close. His maw is open, the wind is strong, and even Venti stands helpless without any tools to reach his friend.

“The time has come for the dragon to serve its true master!” the Mage shrieks, waving its staff with glee, and Lumine—Lumine walks forward.

“Silence,” she commands, seething at the Mage’s arrogant tone.

And for a second, the world stands still.

“You serve no master,” Lumine says, reaching for the dragon’s jaws. Her voice is soothing, calm, almost akin to the quality of Venti’s music. “And if you do, it is of your own choosing. Who is it you wish to listen to? Whose voice is it you want to hear? Where is it you want to go home to?”

Dvalin closes his maw, and she lays a hand on his snout. He growls loud and low, but Lumine stares into his eyes, and for a second, she feels the energy shift.

Not enough.

The Abyss Mage shakes itself out of its stupor; despite its confusion at what transpired in that brief moment, it still knows what it must do. It mounts Dvalin’s back, digging its staff into his flesh; the dragon cries out, his howl metallic in his pain. Lumine feels someone jerk her back by her dress with astonishing speed; she stumbles to the ground hard as the dragon lunges and narrowly misses hitting her.

“Bewail your pathetic selves and watch the world tremble with fear!” the Mage yells, and Dvalin pulls back from the cliff and nearly blows them all away before flying off.  

Lumine watches him get smaller and smaller in the distance from the ground, and Diluc peeks down at her from overhead.

“What the hell was that?” he says, surprised, and Lumine looks up at him then down at her hands.

“You almost succeeded,” Venti says wistfully, and somewhat pityingly, as he comes to stand beside her.

“Simply astonishing,” Jean adds, her tone wondering.

Paimon says nothing, but floats into Lumine’s lap.

“Are you okay?” Paimon asks, and Lumine’s face crumples as she hugs her tight, burying her face into the fairy’s hair.

Paimon makes a soft noise.

Lumine feels a hand sit gently on her shoulder. She lifts to face to meet Venti’s understanding gaze; she isn’t crying, but her eyes burn. The others gather behind him, looking at her with kindness on their faces too.

“…What next?” Diluc finally says, tone businesslike, and Lumine turns to look at him again.  

He is resolute, as are the others as she meets each gaze, and so she steels herself. Next, she thinks. We must keep going.

Venti offers her his hand to help her rise from the ground.

She takes it.

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“Are you ready to take to the skies, Traveler?”

Lumine tears her eyes away from swirl of clouds and fog she sees through the hole in the roof of Stormterror’s Lair, her eyes glittering with a savage light. Despite the challenge of the impending fight, the thought of flying unencumbered again like she used to be able to fills her with joy. Venti raises an eyebrow at her expression.

“I confess that was not the reaction I was expecting,” he says with some humor, and Lumine gives him a wry smile.

“Flight,” she says shortly, turning away, “I miss it. But yes. I am ready.”

They have too little time to spare for conversation, but Venti squirrels that bit of information away for later. The plan is simple; the bard and Traveler will bring Dvalin down from the high skies, and then Diluc and Jean will join the fight where they can from the platforms at the Lair’s tallest point. Paimon awaits on the sidelines where it is safe, prepared to shout warnings or throw potions.

“Let’s go, then,” Venti says, and both the air around him and the tips of his braids glow green as he strums his usual lyre. “May the thousands of years of wind that have blown through Mondstadt go with you.”

Wind bursts forth underneath them; Venti spins upward and Lumine opens the wings of her glider, and the two are airborne—high, high, higher until they are well into and above the clouds.  

While Venti concentrates on channeling the Anemo energy for her, Lumine aims the power at the poisonous blood clots they’ve identified on Dvalin’s back from their vantage point.

Dvalin screeches when the second one shatters, staggering in the air before recovering and descending down to his lair. Venti and Lumine drop after him, the bard ensuring that their landing is safe; Diluc and Jean come to their sides as they stare down the center of the tower from the platforms. Fog swirls violently, a tornado of energy shooting up and blowing their group back before Dvalin reveals himself by dispersing it from the center with a few violent beats of his wings.

He roars, harsh and grating and anguished, and the fight begins in earnest.

“Now we can fight Dvalin on equal grounds,” Venti winks, though Lumine can still see the concern creasing his brow. His lyre glows green in his hands then rematerializes as a bow, the arrow that he nocks bright with Anemo energy. “The grandest bard is here to help!”

A smile ghosts Lumine’s lips at his persistent cheer despite the gravity of the situation.

Diluc and Jean take their positions while Venti fires off his arrows with remarkable speed and precision at the weak spots in Dvalin’s armor. Lumine is no archer, but she picks her shots and throws her sword with as much precision as she can, attempting to control the trajectory. She senses the surprise from the others as they watch her do so—Paimon had remarked before that watching this summoning ability of Lumine’s never got tiring, and it seems to hold true for the others too—but she must use what she has at her disposal, and she is in no danger of losing her weapon.

Periodically, Dvalin lands on the stone and lunges, scattering the team before the sword-wielders close in. Diluc’s bright fire singes the air, while Jean’s cool breeze heals their accumulating wounds.

It’s slow going, the battle. Dvalin peels away from the platform after some time and howls, white-hot energy irradiating the sky before dropping and fissuring the stones around them.

“Watch your step!” Venti cautions, and spreads his arms to bring up a wind current.

Diluc and Jean flounder a little as they surge up; they have their own gliders too, of course, but they are not able to maneuver so effortlessly in the air so suddenly. Lumine grips Diluc by the arms as they fly, while Paimon darts close and assists Jean to the next platform. They narrowly miss a swipe from the dragon’s teeth as they do so; and Venti lets out a deceptively airy laugh at their close brush with instantaneous death.  

“Lucky for us, huh?” he says, and Diluc shoots him a nasty glare before nodding his thanks at Lumine’s aid.

“His armor’s almost cracked!” Paimon shouts, pressing potions into their hands before floating back to safety, “Go, go!”

Venti and Lumine aim true, and with their next hits, Dvalin collapses onto the platform entirely.

“Aim for that blood clot on his neck!” Venti shouts, and the three swordmasters scramble up the dragon’s neck as the bard aims his next arrow.

Six hits, seven, eight, quadrupled by their combined attacks—it feels too long, but the last crystal finally, finally shatters.

Their relief is short lived.

Dvalin rears, thrashing from side to side as the three hold on for dear life. The wound underneath begins to glow purple, tendrils of murky light spidering out to the rest of his body.

“What’s happening?!” Jean shouts in alarm.

“The wound,” Diluc grits out as he nearly slips, “It’s festering.”

“A curse,” Lumine says quietly, “Venti had said the Order had cursed the wounds.”

The bard in question shoots up from the platform, maneuvering expertly as he avoids getting slammed by Dvalin’s head. He joins them on the neck, as close to the wound as he possibly can, hovering a hand over it. His palm glows green, but the light disappears rapidly; he tries again with the same result—then a third, and fourth with no difference—and the look in his eyes is both desperate and ashamed.

He is not strong enough.

There is no second chance. At this stage, if the Abyss Order cannot control Dvalin, their magic will kill him.

Dvalin screeches, and even to those who do not understand his words, it is a sound of only pain and anguish as the evil light pulses. The brilliant blue of Dvalin’s scales begins to turn dark and muddy as the curse takes and takes, and Venti lets out a choked cry.

It’s that sound—so crystalline, so pure in its unhappiness and helplessness—that kindles something inside of her. She feels herself rushing through the years, back, back, back—

(“And us? What is there to challenge us?”

“Each other?”)

Lumine thinks of her brother, her conversation with him long ago, when gods aplenty had come to test their mettle against them to no avail.

(“Bewail your pathetic selves and watch the world tremble with fear!”)

Lumine remembers the Abyss Mage’s parting words, gritting her teeth at the swell of anger that crashes against her ribcage.

What challenge?

You are not Aether.

What world, trembling with fear?

Lumine grabs Venti’s hand, who startles at her touch; his braids go green, and she holds her other hand aloft, positioning her fingers—

“You are not the one who tells me what to do,” she hisses, and plunges her hand into the wound.

The others watch with wide eyes and open mouths; it lasts only a few heartbeats, the brutality of the moment. Lumine digs deeper and then rips something out of the wound and crushes it in her palm; the purple light recedes, then fades, any remainder of the coagulated blood along Dvalin’s body shattering into dust.

For that brief moment, they all forget where they are as they stare, Lumine’s eyes glowing with a faint golden light as she blows the offending residue from her hand, the particles sparkling white before disappearing.

Then Dvalin thrashes once more, the four falling from his body and rolling back onto the platform with the assistance of a carefully timed breeze from Venti; the dragon screeches, body seizing for a second—and at that moment, the proper color starts coming back into his scales—before plummeting down, down, down…

None of them have time to react further before the stone underneath them begins to crumble, and all of them instinctively reach for purchase before they plunge. The debris rains down all around them, and the storm-heavy air of the Lair grows more oppressive with the fall of its occupant, weighing them down so much that not even Paimon can remain afloat.

Whatever Lumine manifested earlier is no more, and does not help her here. A scream bubbles in her throat as she drops; she is not used to falling, not like this, and the nightmares so especially prevalent from her days under Starsnatch Cliff come bubbling to the surface. Fear clouds her mind and she squeezes her eyes shut—

And she hits something hard, but warm.

She opens her eyes to the blue sky, wings beating solid around her, and it takes a moment to realize that she and the others rest safely on Dvalin’s back.

Diluc and Jean look a little shaken but recover quickly, awe at their location taking over. Paimon crawls forward to hold Lumine’s hand, far more distressed at their sudden descent.  

And Venti—Venti smiles gently as he sprawls at the base of Dvalin’s neck.

“It’s been awhile since we last flew like this together, huh?” he murmurs, and the dragon lets out a low rumble.

“Why…why did you not ask me to protect you…like the last time?”

“Me not wanting you to listen to the Abyss Order doesn’t mean you have to listen to me,” the bard chuckles, “Can freedom, mandated by the god of such, really be considered freedom at all?”

Lumine blinks at the question, and Dvalin does not answer, or at least does not do so now.

“It has indeed been a long time…Barbatos…”

Venti smiles.

“Welcome back, old friend,” he says.

The sky is a brilliant, brilliant blue, the view even more breathtaking from the back of a dragon. Venti looks remarkably relaxed, a smile lifting his lips, and after a moment, he begins to sing. Even unaccompanied, his voice is beautiful and pure, and Dvalin’s body illuminates with Anemo energy as the bard graces him with power once more.

“We really did it,” Diluc says wryly, as they soar through the air, and Jean chuckles.

“I believed we would,” she replies confidently, looking to Lumine.

Lumine’s lips crack into a smile, and then she laughs, perhaps a little hysterically, before realizing that tears are rolling down her face. She touches them with surprise, baffled by her own reaction; she hurts just as much as she feels exultation.

“I’m glad,” she mutters, unable to say anything else.

She looks to Venti, who lifts his head just enough to give her a blinding smile as he continues to sing.

This time, when she laughs again, the pressure in her chest is lighter.  

Now go, with my blessing…

.

The air blows cleaner and sweeter when the curse upon Dvalin is broken and the much of the poison purified from his body.

Still, there is much to clean up upon their return to Mondstadt. Venti and Dvalin fly elsewhere for a while to catch up. Diluc returns to his own affairs. Jean handles the politics and diplomatic relations back in town, and Amber takes care of a mounting hilichurl invasion. Somewhere along the way, Kaeya has unearthed intelligence of the Abyss Order, enough to learn that there is now a Prince who heads the organization.  

Amidst all this, not a single sighting of Aether despite numerous flyers and questions. The days following the fall of Stormterror and the return of Dvalin are busy for the others, though Lumine is free to come and go as she pleases.

In the end, she spends much of it with fair bard and curious dragon.

Dvalin comes to land every so often by the Hero’s Tree, curling around its base. Lumine approaches him slowly at first, but he already seems quite used to her presence—as perhaps one might, if they had another’s hand dug into their very flesh before. In any case, Venti would vouch for her. She and the bard lean against the dragon’s side, and both Dvalin and Venti sigh contentedly at the purity her presence seems to add.

“You…” Dvalin says, turning his head to sniff Lumine’s hair. “You feel…familiar…and yet, your powers are not that of I’ve seen…”

Venti plucks at his lyre, humming in agreement. She had taken…no, channeled was perhaps the better word, for what she did during the battle. She had channeled his powers, but there had also been some of her own present, of course. It had been a startling feeling, yet not strictly unpleasant.

“Not an Archon, and supposedly not a god, but just you. And yet…you are not mortal, are you?”

Lumine says nothing for a while, but Venti seems content to wait.

“No,” she says, “But I cannot answer the question you are not asking.”

He laughs.

“Well of course not, for how will you know what I am asking?” he says, and she gives him a pointed look which makes him laugh again. “Come, why don’t you tell me about yourself, Lumine, Traveler of Worlds?”

She blinks at him, leaning forward a little.

“Me?”

“Isn’t that what I said? Your favorite flowers, favorite foods? Or…what you do if you can’t sleep, or what you like to do if it rains?”

She leans back again, and reaches over to pat Dvalin’s neck absentmindedly. He makes a pleased sound, then stops abruptly as if such a thing is beneath him.

“I like all flowers,” she finally begins, “And all foods. There’s nothing in particular I do if I cannot sleep…I sleep as I need to and wake as I need to. There is nothing in particular I do if it rains, either.”

“Tough crowd,” Venti murmurs, but doesn’t seem deterred. “Alright, then, how about your brother? What about him?”

“Aether? Hmmm…” Lumine tilts her head, thinking, but answers far more readily. “He likes all flowers, too, but…I think he’d be particularly fond of the lamp grass and windwheel asters here. If he cannot sleep, or if he is bothered, he flies. If it rains, he flies then, too.”

“Sounds like he likes to fly, then,” Venti says, and Lumine smiles.

“We both do, but Aether…Aether liked the acrobatics. He liked tricks. And the thrill of plummeting. He was not afraid of falling.”

Venti plucks his lyre, debating on what to say next. How interesting that she can hardly speak of herself, yet so much of her brother. He wonders if she knows what it is she does.

“How would you describe yourself, O Hero of Mondstadt?” he asks, and she furrows her brows.

“Not a hero,” she replies, “And just what is it that you hope to achieve from these questions?”

“Oh, humor a bard,” he grins, and she sighs.

“Aether was better at speaking, I think,” she begins again. “I am not so angry as he. But he accepts more than I do. The sun, the flowers, the air. Isn’t that enough to live for? That was his answer, when I asked why we were here. He won many arguments with his simple, easy logic. I queried more than he, perhaps. He was more…relaxed, about forgiveness. And I was not so ready to love things as Aether was; for me, it was pity that came first.”

Venti strums a tune as she speaks, half-composing as he changes chords based on her answers.

“Do you know—when asked to speak of yourself, you tell me of Aether first, and define yourself by what he is not?”

Lumine tilts her head.

“Is that so strange, when we were born together, and have spent our lives in each other’s company?”

Venti inclines his head in acknowledgement.

“And yet…is it so strange to define yourself in other ways?” He doesn’t expect her answer, however, for the question is…too difficult for her to do so at present. “I should like to meet your brother, and hear what he says about you.”  

Lumine watches as a crystalfly comes close, and opens her palm for it to land. It hovers only for a moment, and she closes her fist the moment it flies off.

She leans back again and closes her eyes, folding her hands in her lap as she lets her mind wander. Eventually she opens her eyes again, looking up at the tree, her brows furrowed in thought.

“Can freedom mandated by the god of freedom be considered freedom at all? I am still considering the answer to the question you asked of Dvalin.”

The dragon peers at her at the mention of his name.

“I chose,” he rumbles, “If I chose to choose….that is an answer…”

Lumine considers this. Venti smiles and draws his fingers across the strings loudly, then begins a new song.

She leans back and listens, feeling at peace.

.

She curses how weak she’s become when Signora plunges her fist into Venti and steals his precious core.

Lumine screams; the sight evokes a distant memory that she cannot recall clearly, but she is terrified suddenly of Venti disappearing entirely. He had not been lying before when he called himself the weakest of the Seven; his powers were just enough to provide aid in the fight against Dvalin, and are no match against the freezing ice the Harbinger had trapped him in.

(And her own…where? Where was it now?)

“At last, Mondstadt’s rodent ruler in the flesh. Scurrying through the streets, looking for leftovers…Mondstadt calls this a god?” Signora had drawled, gripping Venti’s face and turning it to and fro.

“Resident rodent beats invasive vermin,” Venti spat, and Lumine could have commended his cheek if not for the additional violence it brought against him.

His body falls to the ground, and Lumine is relieved that his body does not disintegrate into the air. He taunts Signora once more before she kicks him unconscious, and Lumine lunges forward despite her captors’ vice grip.

“We have what we came for,” Signora says, the core’s green glow disappearing as her fingers close around it. “Leave nothing for our dear Favonian friends to find.”

Sharp pressure strings at the back of the neck, and Lumine too topples to the ground. Before her vision fades, she reaches out; the scene is familiar, too familiar. Black and red at the pinpoint of her vision, her hand reaching for what has been stolen…

She had told Venti that it was Aether who was more prone to anger, but as she watches Signora walk away, the last thing she feels is rage.

.

After the Deaconess Barbara’s healing (and a hurried word of gratitude), Lumine makes a mad dash for the Tree, skidding through the streets with fervor.

The moment she spots Venti underneath its branches, she nearly tackles him as she wraps her arms around him for a second, then holds him at arm’s length to inspect him.

“What did she do to you?” Lumine demands, and Venti blinks at her in astonishment at this rare display of such intense emotion.

“Your concern is touching, but your actual touch is quite bruising at present,” he says, and Lumine lets go immediately with a frown. He smiles. “A bit down on my luck nowadays, aren’t I?”

“What was it she took from you?” Paimon repeats, “That…gnosis of yours?”

Venti inclines his head, looking at Lumine, who also waits for his answer with creased brows.

“Perhaps something like a god, and yet unknowing of gnoses…how curious,” he murmurs, but answers Paimin’s question anyway.

Without his gnosis, he has lost much of his elemental powers, but not all of it, and can still subsist. Lumine stores the information he is willing to share with them away; gnoses, Celestica, Visions, allogenes, the Tsaritsa and her Harbingers, a catastrophe from 500 years ago...there is so much she does not know—or remember.

But when Venti suggests her next destination as Liyue, she does realize that it is time to go. She has grown to like Mondstadt and the air that Venti has encouraged; already she is a little wistful, but she will not stop searching for Aether.

Venti smiles at her expression, and when he speaks again, there is a different quality to his voice.

“Traveler,” he says, and as Lumine breathes in the air is both sharp and sweet, “As you set off once again, remember that the journey itself has meaning. The birds of Teyvat, the songs and the cities, the Tsaritsa, her Fatui and the monsters…they are all part of your journey. The destination is not everything. So before you reach the end, keep your eyes open. Use the chance to take in the world around you.”

She feels…guilt. She has lived a long, long time, and there are things she has purposefully let go, as well as things she has not.

“Yes, Barbatos,” she whispers, and Venti’s eyes are just a little sad.

“Right! That’s enough of the Anemo Archon’s admonishments. Back to Venti time!” he exclaims, eyes brightening as he claps his hands together. “Say—we’ve become a great team during this time, don’t you think? Once you find your brother…how would you like to become one of the new Four Winds?”

Lumine blinks at him, then lets out a small laugh, much to both Paimon and Venti’s surprise.

“Perhaps,” she says, and Paimon makes a doubtful noise.

“You don’t seem too into it, Lumine…but if it means free food, you can consider Paimon!” she exclaims, turning to the bard with an excited wiggle.

Venti lets out an insincere chuckle, rubbing the back of his head, and Lumine covers more laughter with her hand while Paimon pouts.

“Thank you, Venti,” Lumine says, and he gives her a sweeping bow.

“Well then, best be off to Liyue,” he says with a wink, “If the descension ritual you fail to tally, then another year you must dally.

When he straightens again, however, she cannot quite tell which identity he is speaking with.

“And go,” he says, “With my blessing.”

Regardless, Lumine sweeps a returning bow. But before she leaves him, she holds out her hand, and after a moment, a cecelia shimmers into her palm. Venti blinks, and in another second she is tucking it behind his ear.

He laughs delightedly at the gift, and she smiles at him before making her way back to Mondstadt.

“Well then, shall we go too?” Venti asks, and surges up to where Dvalin is waiting.  

.

They watch from above later as she leaves the town after making her goodbyes.

“The winds are changing at quite the rapid pace,” Venti murmurs to his friend.

Dvalin rumbles low in agreement.

“She smells of sorrow, and of age-old memory…” Dvalin says, and Venti furrows his brows.

“Yes, it’s very curious, isn’t it? I can only think that she too is a god. And yet…of what, and where?”

Neither have an answer.

.

Rain begins to fall, a couple hours after she’s left Mondstadt.

Lumine stops on the road, looking up at the grey sky, closing her eyes for a moment and letting the drops plop onto her face.

“We should look for shelter!” Paimon exclaims, putting her hands over her head, and Lumine considers it.

Instead, she puts out her hand, and an umbrella manifests in it. She opens it, the blue-green fabric patterned with dandelions, and rests the handle on her shoulder.

“I’ll keep going,” she says quietly, “But I’ll not ask you to stay out.”

Paimon looks at her, then also takes shelter under the umbrella.

“No, I’ll stay,” she says, “Paimon is your guide!

Lumine smiles faintly, and the two continue onwards.

After a while, she begins to hum softly, absently. The tune rises and falls, and speaks to the wind, and traveling through worlds. Paimon eventually comes to rest on her shoulder, hanging sleepily.

“What’s that song?” she murmurs, already dozing off, “It’s nice.”

Lumine stops abruptly, blinking, the notes dissipating like wisps of smoke.

“…I’m not sure,” she says softly, with a slight frown as she resumes walking. “I seem to have already forgotten it.”

#genshin impact #genshin lumine #genshin traveler #genshin venti #mondstadt #genshin impact fic #fanfiction #i spent too long thinking and then gave up on the chapter summary #maybe i'll come up w something better later LOL

[laidbare-a]

Snippets of Peter's childhood //

I’ve finally decided that Peter was born and raised in Galar! Peter’s more unusual traits were apparent from pretty early on, some even from birth. Even as a baby, it was as if anyone nearby could get an idea as to what he needed or wanted at any given moment as long as they were close enough. Routine health checks were fairly normal (save for the occasional vitamin or mineral deficiency here and there), but blood tests always came back with unusual and inexplicable results that were different every time. But as long as he seemed healthy enough, they just sort of... ignored it. His mother made sure to keep as many of the records as possible though. Even if she didn’t have the know-how to really make sense of the results, she was determined to find someone who did... but she didn’t have much in terms of free time to look around and as long as Peter was healthy, finding answers wasn’t a priority just yet.

As he grew, it seemed he would attract more and more wild pokemon. For the most part it was all quite positive--Peter was never in need of companionship! But running off to play with any and every wild pokemon he came across got him into all sorts of trouble more than once, and as an overworked single mother Kainé could only keep her eyes on him so much. He practically needed one of those child leashes (grookey flavored!) if they ever went to places like Ballonlea... do you know how often she’d look away for 5 seconds only to look back and see her son being carried off by drifloon??? That’s terrifying!

It wasn’t until he was about 7-9 that things reeaally started getting strange. He grew more emotionally unstable as his empathy and psychometry began to really manifest, and with these strong spikes of emotion brought a very bizarre energy that was more than a little unsettling. There may have been locations or objects he couldn’t get near without pitching a fit, but when asked to explain why he was fussing, he couldn’t verbalize it. Only to find out later that said location or object was used in something like a crime or accident, stressful situations like that. (Psychic Investigator Peter...... or pip. detective au time) This was when his mother turned her attention back into finding resources to learn more about what exactly could be the source of Peter’s unusual abilities, if only so she could better help him to cope with the changes in his life.

By that point it was undeniable to onlookers that there was something quite different about him--but humans with psychic abilities weren’t unheard of, so those around him just assumed that was the case. Some thought this was cool, some shunned the very concept (and him by extension, not wanting their minds to be read or the like), but at first he wasn’t treated very differently in his hometown because ultimately he was still the same lovable well-meaning kid he always was. The other children could at times be cruel (as children often are), but he handled most teasing surprisingly well--he knew there was little to no truly bad intentions, they didn’t really mean him harm. And in some cases he could tell if another child’s mistreatment of him came from their own trauma, and you can bet that Peter would end up saying some very ominous things that would bring to light some of these struggles, for better or for worse. This was also around the time he started to really become nosy and he didn’t yet have the tact or foresight to know when to back off, which lead to an increasing amount of tension with the adults especially, but lbr, who would be thrilled about some spooky ominous child walking up to you and suddenly spouting your deepest fears and insecurities?

I’mma stop this here for now before this post gets too long-winded (as if it isn’t already lol), but. there’s some snippets into peter’s past as a human! stay tuned for the next one, that’s when interpol and aether start to get involved and everything goes downhill. :^)

#only mildly unsettling || Peter HC #general hc tag tba #long post #i really dont play with peter's powers enough bc i am perpetually worried about it coming across as metagamey or the like #i know it's nothing communication can't fix but ya gorl Cuil is too anxious to even get that far

[thebookkeeperslibrary]

Lost Time: Ch. 6

Fandom: Time Warp Trio

Author: The_Bookkeeper_96

Rating: T

Summary: Another summer at Horae Manor begins, but before Joe and Tessa get the chance to train, they are sent out on a mission to explore the magic capital of the universe, Mancika. Rumours of illegal magic conversion spread throughout the city, and Joe and Tessa need to locate those responsible. But after the events of last summer, Joe isn't eager to work with his Aether partner, and the two are struggling more with each other than with their enemies.

A/N: Look who's back ;) I promise, I'm not dead, and I still very much want to keep the small TWT community going. Hopefully, my updates will be more consistent going forward.

P.S.: Thinking about starting a tag list for story updates. Let me know if you're interested/want to be added.

Read on AO3

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

"In reviewing the tragic incident that occurred at Horae Manor last week, the Great Council has decided to revise the current requirements for acceptance. From this point forward, for the safety of 'lesser magic' users, Horae Manor will only be open to current Warp and Aether wizards and their potential successors. Our thoughts and condolences go out to the families of those affected by last week's events, and we hope this change will prevent such things going forward." - Excerpt of Great Council Decree 57 from the year 1908

"You can't be serious. He doesn't know anything!" Tessa exclaims, then suddenly remembers that I'm now standing right next to her. "No offense."

I bite my tongue. No point in arguing in front of Rowena and Cassius, they'd just punish us in some other way. Though forcing us to work together when we were clearly not on good terms seems cruel enough. I force myself to shrug like her little outburst doesn't sting at all.

She'd said that with no hesitation. So what if I didn't do my required reading? What good would knowing the history of magic do for me in a battle?

I briefly picture myself fighting a game show host who keeps shouting trivia questions at me. He demands to know who the first Warp Wizard was, and if I get the question wrong, his powers grow stronger. Three wrong answers and he can turn me into a mouse with the snap of his fingers or smite me with a single bolt of lighting.

I snap out of my daydream, hoping I haven't missed anything. Anyway, I'm pretty sure that could never happen. Knowledge wasn't one of the nine magics. Right?

Maybe one chapter wouldn't hurt…

"Tessa," Ro sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose, "this is a partnership. Warp and Aether wizards rely on each other. Your magic cannot exist without the other half. Your independence is admirable, but from now on you two need to be working together every step of the way."

"I know that, but shouldn't you at least teach him some basic magic first? How to put up a shield or shoot some energy balls?" Tessa frowns and stares at the floor. "This is serious stuff. He could get hurt, or worse."

"Stop talking about me like I'm not here." I cross my arms. Ready now more than ever to start this fight. Why is she acting as if she cares about me getting hurt? She certainly didn't seem to mind last summer in Paris or Cealus. The concerned expression on her face is almost enough to make me believe her, but after last year, I know better than that. What game is she playing here?

"We have spent the last year trying to come up with exercises for the two of you to learn how to cooperate. I had hoped that once we revealed the time decay, you would understand the brevity of the situation. Clearly not." Cas crosses his arms, giving me the impression of a disappointed father.

I remember from our conversation last summer that Cassius is married. Did he have kids too? And had he really spent the last year focusing on Tessa and me instead of his own family? We can't be that special. I wonder if his wife ever came to visit here at Horae. Where did Cas live anyway when he wasn't here? I doubt he'd answer any of my questions about his personal life, especially since he wouldn't answer any of my questions about magic.

"Okay, so maybe our teamwork needs a little improvement," I relent. "But how are we supposed to work on that if you make us fight each other?"

"You're not fighting each other." Rowena flicks her wrist towards us.

I blink. Without warning, Tessa and I are standing on the far side of the gym facing down our mentors. This gym really is bigger than I thought. Or at least, Rowena made it seem that way.

"You're fighting us."

My heart plummets into my stomach. This has to be some weird test. They won't make us fight them. They're professional wizards who had years of magic experience. They are literally the greatest time and space magic-users alive. We would never be able to beat them. I have no training and Tessa only has a year under her belt. She did pretty well against Rowena alone, but with Cassius fighting her too? This would be a disaster for us.

"You guys are really on it with the jokes tonight. But seriously, what's the plan?" Apparently, Tessa is just as stunned as I am, which does nothing for my hopes. We really would be getting crushed. So much for having a good start for the summer.

"We are serious. Don't worry, we'll take it easy on you." Warm purple light glows around Rowena.

"You don't necessarily have to beat us, just knock us out of the arena. As long as we see a decent showing of teamwork from the both of you, we'll consider that a win for you." Cassius' body begins to glow that signature time magic green. "And we won't end this until you do."

Is it my imagination or is the room shifting in size and shape? And why does everything feel like it's moving a lot slower now? Ro and Cas couldn't be using their magic like that already, they weren't even doing anything except standing there. Just how powerful were they?

How powerful could Tessa and I become?

The thought gives me a burst of excitement. This battle could actually be a great way to learn what I will be able to do someday. Maybe there's some way I can trick Cas into showing off all his moves and tricks.

"We're starting now? You're not even going to give us time to strategize?" Tessa holds her arms out in exasperation.

"You will have very few fights in your life where you will have time to strategize. Besides, you know nothing about each other's strengths and weaknesses or fighting styles. And you've only seen Ro fight, not me." Cas cracks his knuckles, the green mist slowly curling farther and farther up his arms.

Okay, so we're doing this.

I try to remember how I felt every time I used my magic before. My hands would always tingle and my chest would feel warm, but the only time I'd ever been able to do anything was in high-stress situations. Like if my life was in danger or the life of someone I care about. But Cas and Ro had already said they'd be going easy on us, so there's no real danger here.

I feel nothing. No tingle. No warmth.

Great, maybe my magic is broken. Which means I have to rely on Tessa during this. Even better. I inwardly roll my eyes. Is that why they were doing this? To build my trust in her by forcing me to lean on her during a fight?

"We can win this if we play it smart. But you need to listen to what I say." Tessa snaps me out of my thoughts.

"Why do you get to be in charge?" I cross my arms. Even if that is Cas and Ro's plan, that doesn't mean I have to follow it. I can prove to them that I know what I'm doing.

"Because I'm the only here with any experience."

"So? You don't know what I've been up to this past year. Maybe I've been practicing my magic non-stop."

"Have you?"

"Well-"

My world turns green as Cas blasts us with magic. "Not off to a good start, you two."

I cringe. I can hear the disappointment in his voice from here. I guess it won't hurt to at least try to cooperate with Tessa. As long as she doesn't betray me again. If Cas and Ro think we're so important that they're spending all their free time thinking about us, the least we can do is try to live up to their expectations.

"Fine. What's your plan?"

"I need you to distract them."

"Distract them how?"

Tessa runs a hand over her face. "I don't know! Just think of something, and fast."

Before I can even blink, she throws up a shield in front of us, blocking another attack from our mentors. I can't help but cough as the smoke clears around us.

"Magic combat lesson number one: move."

Tessa winces and waves the smoke away. "Cas is right. Standing still like this is a death sentence. We have to run or hide."

"There's nowhere to hide."

"So run."

Just like that, she bounces away, using the last remaining smoke as cover.

Okay, distract two super powerful wizards. I can do that.

How do I do that?

My mind races as my feet start to carry me away. I have to get them to focus on me so Tessa can do… what exactly is Tessa planning on doing? I try to find her, before realizing that that's probably not going to help her.

The room shakes, and suddenly I'm running into a wall I'm pretty sure wasn't there two seconds ago.

A stinging pain flares up above my eye. My hand reaches up and pulls away with blood smeared across my palm. Okay, apparently 'go easy on us' doesn't mean we won't get hurt. Noted.

"You need to pay attention. Especially when your opponent can manipulate the battlefield," Rowena calls out.

Well, at least I had their attention. Hopefully, Tessa can go do her thing now. I want this fight to be over with as soon as possible. Cas was right. I'm nowhere near ready for this. Magic only came to me on accident or when someone was in serious danger. Even if I could, there was no way I could focus enough right now to summon any amount of power.

I laughed. "I meant to do that."

Both Ro and Cas raised their brows at me. "Really?"

"Totally. We definitely have a plan, and we are definitely going through with it." Another nervous chuckle escaped my throat. If I can keep them talking to me, Tessa should be able to go through with her plan. I tried not to frown or show any irritation. Of course, it really would help if I knew her plan.

Our mentors' hands begin to glow. I gulp down a bubble of air. This isn't good, but I can't let them see me panic.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Tessa scaling the wall towards the seats where Cas and I had been earlier. Wait, is her plan to escape and leave me here while I get attacked? My fists clench. I shouldn't be surprised. This was exactly the kind of behavior she had shown last summer. A list of crude insults runs through my mind. I shake them away. No time to think about that. I have to focus on what's happening right in front of me.

A familiar warmth built up in my chest. Was it magic? One way to find out.

I lift my hands and close my eyes. Just push it out. That's all I have to do. I take a deep breath, feeling the warmth swirl deeper within me. My fingertips tingle in anticipation.

Without warning, the room shakes again, and my body flings to the side. I just barely manage to stay on my feet, but the warmth in me is suddenly replaced with nausea.

My arms wrap around my stomach. I bend over and try not to vomit. Damn space magic.

I look up to see Ro and Cas looking confused, and I understand why. They're no longer near me where they were. Instead, they're a hundred feet away from me on the other side of the arena. Had it always been this big?

I try to find Tessa, but I can't see her anywhere. So she really did leave. Great.

Ro's eyes scan the edges of the arena and land on something in the far corner. Try as I might, I can't see what she sees.

Pointing at the corner, her fingers curl into a fist, and she pulls her arm into her side.

The corner flies in closer, but there's nothing there.

Rowena frowns. "What?"

I see a flash of movement off to my side, but don't dare look at it. Maybe Tessa didn't abandon me after all. But looking at her wouldn't help her. It would only reveal her location to our opponents.

Now, Ro and Cas are both frantically looking around the room, trying to locate Tessa. But they're not having any luck.

Our roles had reversed since the start of the fight. Tessa was now serving as the perfect distraction. Both Cas and Ro were completely focused on her, which gave me the opportunity to strike. And how could I not?

All I have to do is summon one burst of magic and push Cas and Ro out of the arena. No problem. Not at all.

I tried to bring back the warmth that I felt earlier. Surprisingly, it did. The heat and tingling flare back to life, making me shudder. An uncontrollable grin splits open my face. Maybe I am good at this magic thing after all.

The heat increases and my whole body feels electrified. Had it always felt this intense and painful? Whatever, me and my magic were ready to go.

My hands are already glowing by the time I pull them up. I can't contain my excitement. I'm doing it! I'm really using magic! Focusing everything I have on my hands, I point at Ro and Cas who are both conveniently placed near the edge of the arena. They must be so focused on Tessa, they don't even realize where they're standing.

I smirk. This is too perfect. I could feel my magic ready to burst. With one final breath, I let my magic loose just as a wall of purple appears in front of me.

And my world goes white.

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

My hearing returns first. A sharp ringing echoes in my head. As it slowly fades away, the sound of voices filters through.

"Do you know how difficult it's going to be to repair this gym?" The first voice is stern, angry.

"I'm sorry! I didn't know he would do that. I- I didn't want this to happen." The second voice sounds panicky and raspy. Had they been crying? "Why would you think that fight was a good idea? He could be dead!"

"He's not dead." A third voice, one very close to me, says. They didn't sound angry or panicked, just calm.

What's happening? I struggle to regain consciousness, my body fighting me the whole way. The last of the ringing in my ears disappears and all I can see is blurry lights. I hear a pained groan. Was that me?

"See? Not dead. A little battered, but that's to be expected." Something next to me stirs and moves away. "You didn't do anything wrong. We can repair the gym easily enough." A pause, and I think I hear someone huff. "Your shield didn't do this, Tessa. I think he depleted his magic when he blasted off there at the end."

Oh, right. The battle. My memory came back to me in a rush of bright images. Did Tessa and I cause some sort of explosion? That must be Cas talking now. Did he just say something about depleting my magic?

A bolt of alarm zips through me, pushing me back into consciousness. I shoot straight up, gasping for air.

Instantly, Ro, Cas, and Tessa gather around me, but I can't get my breathing under control enough to hear them. Deplete my magic? Like, all my magic? I couldn't feel any trace of the warmth from earlier. Did I just waste everything in one stupid fight? No, no, no! I never even got to do anything cool like stop time or warp without The Book. How could this have happened?

"Easy, Joe. Just breathe. You were knocked out for a few minutes, but everything is fine now." Cas's face fills my view and he puts my hand on his chest. "Breathe with me. In and out. In and out."

I match his breathing as best I can, and eventually the world comes back into focus. I manage to say a few words, "Is my magic gone forever?"

Cas's head jerks back in shock. "Why would you think that?"

"Because you said I depleted my magic." My chest constricts and my breathing picks up again.

He laughs with a shake of his head. "No, your magic is not gone. In fact, I would say your magic is a lot stronger than I expected it to be at this stage. But that stunt you pulled did expend all of your energy. You'll need to rest for a day, but you'll be fine. I promise."

"Stunt?" I took a moment to look at all three of them. Rowena was frowning, but not at me. Her focus was on Tessa, whose eyes were red and locked onto me. "What exactly did I do?"

"You nearly turned yourself into a bomb!" Tessa threw her arms in the air. "I told you to distract them, not attack them!"

"I did?" For the first time, I take in the scene around me. The gym is completely destroyed. Black scorch marks cover the floor all around us and smoke still hovers in the air. Part of the seating had collapsed. Even the ceiling had cracks branching out from where I had been standing before I blacked out. "Oh. Uh, sorry?" What were you supposed to say when you nearly blew up a building?

Cas suppresses a smile. "It's really not that bad. This place has survived a lot worse, trust me. But no more magical attacks like that, until we've got you trained. Okay?"

I mutely nod, not sure what else to do. To be honest, I don't think I could summon any magic now even if I wanted to. I've never felt so exhausted in my entire life. Everything in me ached, and it took a lot of effort just to sit upright.

"Did I really do this all by myself?" The damage in the gym is intense. And what about that flash of purple I saw right before I tried to shoot at Cas and Ro? My magic did feel a little uncontrolled at the end, but surely I'm not capable of this kind of destruction.

"No, but Tessa's force field blocked your magic from going out." Rowena crossed her arms, still clearly upset with Tessa. "It bounced off the shield and shot straight back into itself."

"But I didn't know he was going to do that! I didn't mean to hurt him." Tessa turns to me with wide eyes. "Please, believe me, Joe. Even if we're not exactly friends, I would never try to hurt you like that."

I want to snap back and tell her I don't believe her, but something in her eyes makes me stop. She looks on the verge of tears and has clearly cried at some point already. Why did she care if I got hurt? She'd made it clear that she didn't care about anyone but herself.

Instead of saying anything, I simply turn away and glare at the ground.

"I-" Tessa starts, but is quickly interrupted.

"Enough." Cas puts himself between everyone. Stopping any fights before they can start. "We all have a big day ahead of us tomorrow, and we can all use a good night's rest."

"What's happening for us tomorrow?" I ask. He had mentioned he and Ro had a council meeting tomorrow, but what were Tessa and I going to be doing? Were we going to sit in with them?

"We'll talk about that at breakfast," Ro said in a tone that implied if she told us now, we wouldn't sleep at all tonight. Great, so something not fun was happening tomorrow.

With help from Cas, I got to my feet, and after an awkward good night to everyone, I stumbled to my room. I was asleep before my head even hit my pillow.

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