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z3rinn · 6 months

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# #. BATHTUB MERMAID.

in which your daily walks on the beach have been becoming more eventful as time passes. But after finding a certain scale, you feel as if you’re being watched at every turn.

this was a little unedited idea I came up with for halloween!! I wrote that Azul has scales when octopi dont- so uh-. slight yandere content up ahead !! hope you guys enjoy !! also- new header !! wdyt??

❝ rise and fall silver moon ❞

You never believed in mythical creatures.

The beach had become a safe spot for you throughout the years. It was still and serene; a place where life's problems sunk into the deep ocean before you.

The ocean had always been mysterious. It was a deep and spacious space, the beginning of life so to say. It held a sense of tranquility, yet alongside that, unpredictability.

The Sea held emotions. It could be violent and vicious, yet benevolent and peaceful. Perhaps this is what led to your fascination with the sea and its inhabitants. It's creatures.

The ocean reflected beauty, showing the world its colors and scales, it was a place creatures could thrive. However the deeper you go, the more terrifying it gets, showing what could be awaiting you in the unknown.

The human imagination was vast, and could come up with many creatures and ideas. There were vampires and werewolves, Cryptids and Ghosts- all fantastical tales made up by the imagination.

The Sea had its own creatures as well, mermaids, yet similarly known as sirens. They were fantastical stories, usually depicted by sailors and legends. They were beings similar to humans, well, only half of them that is.

They were only half man, with long beautiful tails from the waist down. They were akin to fish, luring others with their songs and beauty. Their majestic colours aiding them.

A fishermens tale, as they say. You didnt believe in the stories, no matter how scary they could get. Scientifically it couldn’t be proven.

However, these legends didnt deter you from the ocean.

Now, on a dark night like this, where the silver moon lit up the sky, there shouldn't have been anything to worry about. It was an ideal night, peaceful and soothing.

The wind breezed across your face, brushing against skin and cloth. It was a chilly night, the cold ocean and air made a combination that was welcomed.

You walked slowly across the shore line, feeling the sand between your toes. It was soft and rocky, a texture you had frown accustomed to. The sand had significantly cooled compared to the burning heat from the morning, it felt nice against your skin.

You glanced behind you, seeing how far away you traveled from the lifeguard. You couldn't help but take notice of the tide that erased your footsteps.

It was if the world was erasing you.

Well, you wouldve thought that if it were for the black scale that washed up on shore.

And wow was it pretty.

You gently picked the scale up, rubbing off any remaining sand in the way.

You gaped in awe, cradling it in your hands. No way this could be real. Not with how beautiful it was.

The scale reminded you of an obsidian stone. Smooth and soft to the touch. It oddly resembled hard candy in your opinion.

You turned it over, noting that it was also very shiny. It looked like holographic sparkles with the way they shone against the moons silver light. Shifting it back and forth you could see bits of purple and blue reflecting in the moonlight.

It seriously looked like a jewel. Perfectly crafted and precise.

Hm.

You pocketed the scale. Continuing on with your walk. It's not like anyone would miss it right? In the end it was just another scale. No one would miss it.

You had keep reminding yourself of that. As the feeling of someone watching you became more apparent.

❝ mirror covered in chalky steam ❞

Showers weren't uncommon to take when coming home from the beach. In fact they were usually welcomed and desired.

Although going to the beach almost everyday you still couldn't get used to the feeling of sand everywhere.

It was so uncomfortable.

The need to get the grimy sand off was strong. And the urge to just pour clean water all over you was overwhelming. You just had to clean yourself of this dirt.

A light sigh escaped your lips as you stepped into the bathroom, ridding yourself of your clothes while turning the water on. Luckily this time you didn't go for a swim, so just a quick rinse would suffice.

But alas with some more thought you decided, sometimes a long bath was nice once in a while.

Grabbing your phone, you put a playlist on. The one you specifically made for your long walks on the beach. It could still work good enough, right?

A smile formed on your face as you stepped into the bathtub, hot water enveloping your body. It was a nice contrast against the beaches cold air.

You sunk deeper into the tub, unknowingly letting sleep sink its claws deep into you.

The last thing you saw was an array of sharp teeth above you, a soft, yet comforting voice lulling out a song. A pair of gold and grey eyes hypnotizing you, a spell to put you at ease. To sleep.

However, you were too far gone. And while your heart lept with adrenaline and fear, the drowsy feeling wasn't going away. No matter how much you screamed at yourself to get up you couldn’t. You could only feel yourself sinking deeper and deeper into the water around you.

And you could've sworn you felt a hand cover your eyes.

Slimy and webbed.

❝ touch me, touch me, kiss me to sleep ❞

It was another day at the beach. Another day where the cool air brushed across you, consuming your being whole. It was a quiet day- or was one.

You glanced over at the sea from your spot under the bright blue parasol, contrasting the dark sky. Waves crashed, yelling ensued. All fun and games it seemed.

Being at the beach usually meant a time just for yourself. However this time you accompanied by your brother- and his oddly annoying friends.

Usually on days like this you relaxed, watching them play with a volleyball like they were in the big leagues. You'd only ever get up when someone hit the ball too far off- being ever so kind to help them out.

Just as you were doing now.

A groan left your lips as you stood up, watching the beach ball drift further away from you. It'd be a run to get it.

Your feet patterned against the sand, moving into a slight jog to catch up with the ball. However, every time you begun to creep closer to the ball it drifted away. It was weird.

It want long before you caught up to the ball, the wind blowing through your hair as you observed your surroundings. You'd stopped in front of the monstro cave.

The monstro cave, a place where many had gone 'missing'. Apparently a place so deep that many generations got lost in its caverns.

You'd never believe these legends of course, there was absolutely no reason to. If the cave was so dangerous, why hadnt it been blocked off yet? And with modern technology it wasn't hard to get help if ever lost.

However, it wasn't hard to get frightened by the cave. The legends and vibe of the corridor could easily freak someone out.

Almost everyone was scared of the cave at some point.

You glanced up into the cavern, noting the cold air that poured from it. Before stopping in your tracks.

And your heart sank.

A yellow eye stared up at you from the darkness. A singlular eye. Staring. Watching.

It was wide, and almost downturned, glowing in the darkness as it just watched. It gazed deeply into your form, never breaking contact with your eyes.

You could hear the ocean water crashing behind you, almost as if it was angry.

Your body screamed at you to move, your heart pounding in your chest. But you were frozen still.

The eye squinted, scrutinizing your form. A gut feeling hung over you, whoever it was took pleasure in your horror.

You had to move. You had to move. You had to move. You had to move. You had to move. You had to move. You had to move. You had to move. You had to move. You had to move. You had to move. You had to move. You had to move. You had to move. You had to move. You had to move. You had to move. You had to move. You had to move. You had to move. You had to move. You had to move. You had to move. You had to move---

You slowly stepped back. A shaky sigh left your lips, the sense of fear washing over you, tenfold. Perhaps it was time to go.

Yes, you never believed in mythical creatures. But it was hard to forget all these encounters.

❝ im a bathtub mermaid ❞

#twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #azul ashengrotto #floyd leech #jade leech #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland

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sugar-omi · 11 months

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Qiu x mc?

omg i've been thinking about writing ol2 stuff im glad you asked even if its vague <3 also!! perhaps unrelated but needing to be said: i am NOT writing smut/nsfw for qiu + tama right now until at least the step 3 beta is released. #1 bc i want them to be 18+ in game #2 i want to have a better feel for them. but i'm happy to write fluff and dating/crush hc's n drabbles until then <3 also isn't the header i made so cute, i love it sm

tags : fluff, inbetween step 2-3

synopsis : what it's like having a crush and going through puberty at the same time.

you're the only person besides tamarack that qiu trusts and considers his dearest friend

but you're also his crush and it's hard sometimes...

on one hand, you're so sweet and caring

and you take care of him, even if you don't know how to comfort him you offer him a shoulder to cry on and a place to clear their thoughts

but on the other hand you're so beautiful/handsome and the way you look at them has qiu about to fly away from the butterflies

as you're growing up, qiu spends a lot of time with you.

i can see them sneaking into your room or throwing a couple pebbles to have you sneak out the front door

and you watch the stars together, all curled up together because it's cold and you only had half the mind to bring your blanket, which wasn't nearly enough

and even though your little midnight trips are frequent, neither of you prepare for the next.

and perhaps you're both "forgetting" a blanket on purpose so that way you have an excuse to cuddle up together, but who's to say?

no matter if you're shy or bold, there's this song and dance between you and qiu.

the longing glances across the room...

qiu flushes up to his ears, something he tries to hide by tugging at their long hair

and if you're feeling mischievous, you'll wink at him or perhaps you'll flutter your eyelashes at him, giving him a teasing smirk with a tantalizing stare.

or the way your hand lingers on his arm, making soothing circles with your thumb

you throw in an occasional heart, but with no way to trace the small action, qiu just flushes and stares blankly at his ceiling during the night wondering if it even happened

you two also hold hands whenever possible

only if there's a reason to of course

like crossing the road, very dangerous!

or walking on a log, you could fall into a pile of leaves!!!

so it's up to qiu to hold your hand and if he doesn't let go even when Tama is around, well you didn't let go either so why are you scolding him?!

mmm, if your hands were cold they would put your hand into his pocket and cover it with his own warmer ones

or even better, if you're parting and you came to school with cold hands, they would give your their gloves and pat your hands together

qiu doesn't particularly like jewelry, but if you gave him a piece of jewelry they'd wear it pretty often

especially if it's made by you

wouldn't wear it to school too often just in case it got ruined

omg imma have to write this but

think abt confessing to qiu while you're having one of your lil midnight excursions

you're on the floor of one of your bedrooms, or perhaps the forset floor I can't decide

and they're laying there, hair splayed out across the floor and looking at you with those eyes that are so welcoming yet bore holes into with the passion and fire behind them.

qiu is like a sunflower in a sea of poppies.

or a butterfly in the snow

and even if the words don't escape your lips

even if you can't bring yourself to kiss him

somehow you still find yourself flushed, perhaps with your lips meeting in the middle and suddenly tomorrow looks so much brighter

#our life now and forever #our life now & forever #qiu lin x reader #olnf #qiu lin #qiu lin x mc #fluff #qiu lin fluff

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stormhearty · 1 month

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New Series Preview

✨ pairings: eris x reader

🔮 preview: (Y/N) Vanserra was cunning, ambitious, and confident, all wrapped in a beauty that could rival Lady Autumn’s. For forty-nine years, she had been hidden away, in Autumn Court, much like a diamond, waiting for the day she could come out and shine. And so, when the threat of a Death-God loomed over Prythian and Beron slowly became a concern, (Y/N) uses her beauty and intelligence for a ploy bigger than herself — one that included sitting her husband down on the Autumn throne, Eris Vanserra.

📣 trigger warnings: none for this preview 🔎 rating: PG-13 | word count: (currently still writing)

💜 masterlist | series masterlist + notes: Just so that my blog isn't dead since I'm having writer's block with multiple of my fics. here is a snippet of the newest series that I am working on. plus my new fic header!

His shadows lazily moved underneath him, not a care in the world about the female that seemed to have warped his mind in chaos.

You had become an enigma to the Spymaster.

And it was something he would go to the ends of the world to unravel.

He continued silently observing you from his position next to his High Lord on the dias, watching as you pressed yourself close to the Heir side, your hand tucked into the crook of his elbow, leading you through the throughs of people that packed themselves into the grand ballroom. He watched as your rouge dress, a stark contrast to the endless sea of black and blue, swayed around you — like a fire that danced in the darkness of the night. Even Eris stood out in his regality in a similar shade of rouge, Autumn Court colors seeping out from every inch of him.

The two of you maneuvered through the halls like flames blazing through the darkness — and Azriel was worried that you would burn his home down.

And when he watched you lean up to the Heir, whispering something into his ear before a boisterous laugh escaped the Autumn Heir, he sent his shadows across the floor, motioning them to listen in — and all the Spymaster hoped was to get a tidbit of anything relating to you; even just the sound of your voice would have been better than nothing.

However, hazel hues watched as his shadows retreated quickly as they had flocked. And it was only then did Azriel had seen it.

A barrier.

One that was so powerful and so thick that his shadows couldn’t even penetrate. He watched as the tendrils of darkness slithered away, retreating back to their master, hearing their cries of pain as they had attempted to break through the barrier.

That was the reason no one knew of your existence — why Azriel never heard of you, why his shadows never picked up your name.

You were a secret — Autumn Court’s well-kept secret.

🎈 thank you so far for @prythianpages & @thesunloveschips for their input for this series!

#acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fic #acotar angst #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris x reader #( .series : bleeding crowns )

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saradika-graphics · 5 months

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hiii, your account came across my dash and im instantly in love w your dividers !! im not quite sure if these would work as dividers but i wanted to request some ocean/sea/old fashioned ships ones, in black or dark blue or whatever u think would fit best. thank u so much!! 🖤🖤

Hi, thank you so much! 💖 That is so sweet of you. I do have a couple sea and ocean themed ones here: ocean, waves, pirate

I made a couple in darker tones for you, as well!

[Free] Masterlist Headers & Dividers!

Please consider liking or reblogging if you use 💕

#type: dividers #theme: ocean #color: blue #color: black #dividers

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darklyndivinely · 4 months

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Let Me Love You

Pairing - Lucifer x gn!reader

Warnings - angst, fluff, talk of death, alcohol use.

Wordcount - 900+

A/N - Doomed by the narrative but choosing to keep going? I eat that shit up every time! Headers by @cafekitsune.

OM!Masterlist • Leave a tip! • Taglist Form • Lucifer Masterlist

“How long are you going to pretend?” you whisper, tracing the shadows the lapis lazuli-coloured fire casts across his face, sleek and wild and volatile in their density. “That this thing between us doesn’t exist? That I’m not hopelessly in love with you?”

Lucifer takes a hearty swill of the Demonus cradled in his hands. His eyes, lidded and opalescent red, connect with yours with the soft, lingering start of a violin solo in the background, and he tongues at the aftertaste of alcohol that lingers on his lips before saying, “Is this not enough? Being serenaded by my beloved music? Bearing witness to my delicate state?”

“What are you so afraid of?” You burrow deeper into the plush of the sofa, the conjoined dynamic heat of the fire, liquor and the outline of his body pressed against yours keeping your lips loose. “Death?”

"Only yours," he replies, voice deeper than usual. "Mine would be a miracle gone rogue.”

The cold of the floor has started to nip at your toes, seeping into sock and skin like algae embracing wet stone. The hearth sputters a burst of blue flame as if to soothe you. “Before or after mine?”

He answers in silence, loud and unsurprising. You shake your head and take a sip of your human poison to quell the uncertain thrill of your next words.

“...Do you, though?”

His eyes are frothing drops of blood in a sea of fire. They flicker infinitesimally downwards to your lips, then straighten, boring intensely into yours like a tantalizing still of the dawning sun that causes harm to the eyes yet coaxes the body to halt anyway.

“You know it.”

“And yet you dare not utter the words.” Disappointment unfurls in your chest like a weed in a flourishing farm.

He roughly pulls at his bottle, only to discover it light and empty. “Are you truly so greedy for those frail utterances to deliberately shy from actuality?”

"I'm only human," you spit, emptying your glass sharply, perhaps to draw attention to the liquor that evades his own flask. The subsequent burn in your throat then that seems to mimic the knot in your sternum comes across as irritating and deserved. "Spare me the condescension on days I grow tired of mute pining."

Lucifer swallows harshly, seeming to push down the words already half-formed on his tongue, setting his lacking bottle aside neglectfully. He abandons his seat and trudges towards his beloved liquor cabinet, plucking forth a bottle of Devildom whiskey which he then uncorks with his teeth and takes a burning swig from. The muscles of his shoulders, clad in his regular black shirt, are bunched from sitting in a cruel wooden chair gazing at papers all day. He lingers by the cabinet for a long while, head turned left to stare in a reverie at the creamy Devildom moon looming beyond the glass windows of his office, a psychedelic rock-esque orchestral piece providing the soundtrack for his musings. The hand clasped around the fresh bottle remains limp by his side, the neck tilted at a dangerous axis.

When he turns, there is an expression of resolution in his eyes. He rests the bottle carefully on the farthest edge of the table and kneels by your socked feet. You straighten in surprise, the sudden movement disorienting to your inebriated senses, and stare at the odd image of him there.

"What are you doing?"

He clasps a hand of yours in his and tugs it towards his lips, feathering upon your knuckles a sweet kiss, then presses the back of it to his forehead, where his black diamond might shine if he were to switch to his more primal form. It seems the thought of it occurs to him too for there's a gust of air that buffets you, two massive raven wings unfurling and curling around your lonesome figure, and the mass of his horns emerging to face you at an exposed incline.

He does not look up as he speaks, voice hazy with an encompassing mixture of regret and realization, "I did not say it, perhaps because it was I who lost sight of actuality within the confusing folds of past and future. You're here, you're real, and though you might say that you shall stay forever we both know you lie. We've wasted too much time already and I apologize for how much of that is a fault of mine."

Lucifer raises his head, his eyes just the littlest bit shiny, and slides your palm to rest over his chest, his beating heart a staccato of vulnerability and discomposure.

"Would you go on a date with me, my love?"

It takes a few moments worth of weighing the significance of the scene that has unfolded before your very eyes before the words come bubbling out of your parted lips:

"Yes. Yes, always."

He shifts forward, retracting his wings and horns and nudges his head into your lap. "Do not worry, I'll ask you again tomorrow."

"The answer will remain the same, Lucifer." You entangle your fingers in his silky black strands, bending over to press a kiss to the naked skin of his nape. "I would love to go on a date with you."

He smiles then, partially hidden by the turn of his head. If he circles a hand around your waist to trace a vague symbol against your lower spine and doesn't detangle from the heat of your body for the next fifteen minutes, then it's no one's business but yours alone.

Taglist - @w01f2 @bookoffracturedescapes

#lucifer x reader #obey me lucifer #obey me shall we date #obey me #lucifer x gender neutral reader #lucifer x gn!reader #darkly and divinely written #obey me x reader #lucifer #lucifer fluff #lucifer x you #obey me!

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palirev-web · 2 months

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After the last infographic, PaliRev received many questions on the meaning of the kufiya and culturally appropriate usage. Palestinians have asked that everyone willing wear the kufiya in solidarity with their struggle and to unite. Of course, this should be done with respect to the importance and history surrounding the kufiya, and proper care shown to the garment. Thank you all for your strength!

[image id: an image with a white background. Medium sized gray text reads, "WHAT YOU SHOULD KNOW ABOUT". Below, large text colored with the Palestinian flag finishes, "PALESTINIAN KUFIYA". There follows an olive green block with white lettering. A white circle partially covers the left-hand corner, a depiction of a Kufiya surrounded by olive branches. The kufiya is a white and black checkered scarf with tied ends. The first line of text is bolded. It reads, "Also known as a keffiyeh, shemagh, or hatta, the kufiya was wrapped around Palestinian rebels' faces during the British Mandate of Palestine and 1936-1939 Arab Revolt to avoid arrest. When banned by authorities, Palestinians all wore kufiya to protect rebels. After illegal Israeli occupation forces banned the Palestinian flag from 1967 to 1993, the kufiya was used to symbolize national identity."

A low opacity gray text between boxes reads, @PaliRev.

Below is a white box with a slight shadow outlining it. In olive green text, one section asks, "What do the patterns represent?" Beside it is an image of the kufiya's design, with a fishnet pattern on top, three bold black lines in the middle, and two rows of olive leaves on bottom. Black text reads, "The fishnet pattern is for Palestinian connection to the sea, knotting together, and the barbed wire of occupation. As the tree lives 300-600 years, olive leaves represent resilience and ties to the land. The bold lines represent trade routes across historic Palestine."

A second section header in olive green text reads, "Who can wear the kufiya?" Below it, black text says, "You, me, and anyone in solidarity with Palestinians, resisting oppression, and honoring its significance and history. The kufiya is not restricted to any group or gender, a symbol of cultural heritage and identity for many in the Middle East, but an international symbol of activism and unity."

A small olive green box at the bottom of the shadowed white box has white text in it which reads, "Where can I get one that supports Palestinians?"

Below the white box and at the bottom of the page are four QR codes with labels beneath them. The first is Hirbawi, the second is Handmade Palestine, the third is KUVRD, and the fourth is Palestine Shirts. /end id.]

#palestine #free palestine #eyes on gaza #eyes on palestine #gaza #free gaza #end the occupation #infographic #poster #helpful #kufiya #keffiyeh #hatta #shemagh

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axelsagewrites · 10 months

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Sage, my dear! I was reading your Daemon fic's and they are just perfect!😘🤌🏽 (especially the ones with poc!fem reader, there are so few stories where the reader is poc/non-white in this fandom… And it's great to find this kind of representation, and yours are so well written!!!) That said, could I get a shameless smut Daemon x poc!fem focused on his rings, as if reader is very attracted to his hands and rings and even fantasizes about him fingering her and he notices and gives her what she wants please?

Daemon Targaryen*Rings

Pairing: Daemon x f!reader

Word count 2540

Warnings: flirting, teasing, hand fetish, rings, fingering, orgasm, nipple play, biting, smut 18+

Translations Zaldrīzesītsos – little dragon Ñuha qēlos – my star

a/n: first of all thank u annon ur so sweet <3 but also it should not be this hard to find poc ppl for my post headers smh i use pintrest but any other suggestions are appreciated

Masterlist Here

It felt like the small council meetings drew on longer and longer as the months moved by. Sure, the wine was nice but that was only because you had it imported from Essos yourself. Most of the issues these men babbled about were of little concern to you anyhow as you were only here to represent your families across the seas while these men whined about taxes and castles. The only pleasure you got from these meetings was catching your Daemon’s eye across the table.

In all your time in Westeros he was the only one you could stand, and you supposed it helped that he was the one you were betrothed too. The arrangement had only been settled last week and you smiled when you noticed the dragon ring wrapped around his ring finger, a gift you had had carved from Valyrian steel when your engagement was struck.

Your mind began to wander further as the men droned on about something they would never decide upon anyhow. While usually you would stare into the stars instead your eyes were focused on Daemons hands. How they lazily lifted the wine to his sweet lips, how his fingers trailed over the curve of the glass in his boredom, or how whenever he grew frustrated, he clenched them into a fist so tight you wondered if his nails cut his palms.

Some may worry about a dragon being violent or unpredictable, but you were far too distracted by how you could use their fire to good use. Daemon had recently begun to deck his fingers out in fine silvers and stones with multiple rings on each hand. When he learned any man of importance in Essos wore a ring on each finger, he slowly began to adopt the practise. Three on one hand, two on the other. Soon he’d have quite the collection, not that you were complaining.

You wondered what it would feel like if he would leave the rings on. How the cool metal would sting your skin when he grabbed your hips like he so loved to do. Or even how it would feel when his fingers slipped inside of you, bringing you to the edge with only one hand. It was almost a challenge to Daemon; learning what to do to make you turn to water in front of him. It was a welcomed challenged to you.

“my lady!” A sharp voice shocked you from your thoughts, your head snapping up with a bewildered expression you tried to cover but you knew you had failed from the way Daemon smirked holding back his laugh, “are there any foreign affairs this week we should be concerned about?” Otto Hightower asked with a pointed look.

“no, my lord,” you said with a tight-lipped smile. The man was slimy since the day you first were forced to make his acquaintance. “Essos manages to run itself quite well, no issues on our side,” you said as you sipped your wine before adding, “though I think the crowns payment for their latest shipments of silks from the east is still pending but im sure you had that covered my lord,”

Otto did his best to cover his sneer as he nodded his head, “of course my lady. I’ll even see to it myself,” he said, his eyes not wavering from your gaze leaving you both in a stalemate.

An awkward clap from the king himself broke ottos gaze. Ha, you thought, bet you there Hightower. “well, that’s everything for today then. Thank you all for your sage advice and council but you are all dismissed for now. Lord Hightower a moment please?” The king said, barely managing to stand on his own as everyone began to filter out the room.

You had always made sure to sit at the chair farthest from the king so your exit would be the quickest, but it did not stop Daemon from catching up to you as you reached the stairs. “my lady,” Daemon said, and you didn’t even have to look up to see the smirk on his face. “are you quite alright? You seemed distracted today?”

“my mind had elsewhere to be my lord but do not fret,” you said, matching his tone as you took his arm to walk down the stairs, “your future wife is not gone with the fairies quite yet,” Daemon chuckled at the way you had began to pick up the Westerosi phrases the longer you were at court but with no more evidence he could not protest the issue any longer.

When dinner rolled around Daemon had invited you to join his supper in his chambers with three of his highest-ranking gold cloaks. Something about ensuring you had friends in high up places who were good with their swords as Daemon had put it. You tried to join in with the conversation, but your mind constantly wandered, your eyes flickering back to your betrothed, his hands specifically that was.

It was a fascination you did not know you had until the council meeting earlier but now you were fascinated with each movement and each ring. “careful my lord your lady wife looks like she’s readying to rob you of your rings,” one of the men’s jokes snapped your attention back to them.

All the men chuckled, and you did your best to force one out, “that’d be rather pointless,” Daemon chuckled, flexing his fingers to show off his rings. Gods that were not helping the arousal growing in your stomach. “most of them were gifts from her, weren’t they ñuha qēlos?” Daemon said, his eyes flickering back to you.

It was like the wind knocked out your lungs for a moment as you stared into those lilac eyes, “yes,” you eventually managed to stutter out, ignoring the curious look from Daemon however luckily the rest of the men had drunk so much wine they hadn’t the faintest clue this was out of the ordinary for you.

“perhaps we should call it a night,” Daemon said after a moment, standing from his chair, “before you drink me out of house and home,” he laughed as he helped the men to their feet. You did your best not to embarrass yourself again as the men dismissed themselves, bowing goodbye to you in a way you would never get used to.

When Daemon finally shut the door, you turned to begin gathering the plates into a stack, ignoring how Daemons eyes were fixed onto you. “you were rather quiet tonight ñuha qēlos,” he said, leaning against the door with his arms folded over his chest, “something the matter?”

“no,” you said glancing back at him with a fake smile, “just tired from a long day,”

“tired?” Daemon questioned, not moving from the door. You looked back ready to lie again when you noticed him playing with his rings. Your movements paused, your eyes locking onto the way he twisted the ring around his finger. When you saw Daemon looked up you quickly turned your eyes. “you don’t look tired,” he mused as he pushed himself off the door, lazily sauntering to your side as you tried to keep yourself busy.

“how kind of you my lord,” you rolled your eyes, trying to put your walls up when you felt his hand wrap around your wrist. “my lord- “

“we have servants to clean,” Daemon cut you off, pulling you to face him, your body just inches from his. You tried to think of something to say but you couldn’t as you felt his rings press into your wrist, wondering how they’d feel in other places. There was something about the way Daemon gazed down at you, his eyes unmoving that made your words stick in your throat, “if I didn’t know any better,” Daemon said as his free hand moved to hold your chin up, his lips now so close but so far away, “I’d say you were hiding something from me,”

“what would I have to hide my lord?” You said but now your voice could barely go above a whisper.

Daemon stepped in closer, his body now flush against yours, “I’ve never seen you so quiet. Tell me zaldrīzesītsos,” he mused, leaning down till his lips brushed against your ear, “what has been on that pretty little mind all day?” He whispered, before gently kissing your ear.

“nothing,” you said but you could not hide the shakiness in your voice.

Daemons hands moved to wrap around your waist, pulling you into his chest, “you can tell me ñuha qēlos. After all who am I to judge for what the heart wants,” he said, moving to look you in the eyes once more, “I only wish to help you, my lady. After all it is a husband’s duty to keep his wife pleased,” Daemon said before kissing the hollow of your throat, his head moving to rest on your shoulder.

“there is something,” you said after a few moments making Daemons head perk up. “its not important,” you tried to brush it off, but Daemon began to shush you.

His hands moved to cup your face, the rings metal feeling cool against your skin, “all your wants are important to me,” he said, his lips brushing against yours, “now tell me. What is it you want?”

“you,” you whispered as your hands moved to hold his wrists, “your hands, your fingers. I’ve been thinking about you all day,” you said, moving your head slightly to kiss the palm of his hand.

Daemon kept one hand on your face, the other moving to rest on your hip, “that’s all you had to say,” he said before you felt his lips crash onto yours. You couldn’t help but melt into the kiss, your body desperate from your mind’s thoughts all day. Daemon gripped your hip tightly, his other hand moving to the back of your neck so you couldn’t escape but you had no plans of that.

Daemon began to pull at your skirts, desperate to feel your skin on his. Your hands moved to the ties of your dress, making quick work of the fittings till you felt your clothes loosen. Daemon quickly pushed the dress down your shoulders, not caring as it hit the floor and got crumpled beneath his feet. His hands moved to your ass, squeezing it harshly making you gasp into the kiss as you felt the cold metal digging in.

You began to tug on his shirt and Daemon wasted no time in breaking the kiss to pull of his own clothes. You moved back, sitting on the table as you watched him undress till, he was bare in front of you. Your hands roamed his chest as he finally pulled himself free of his trousers. As Daemon went to reach for his hands to pull his rings off your hand shot out to grab his wrist. Daemon looked at you, his eyebrow raised in confusion, “leave them on,” you said, kissing his shoulder as your hand moved to hold his. “I like the rings,” you said as you traced the precious metals.

Daemon chuckled as he stepped closer, his hands moving to grab your hips, “good to know,” he hummed, his head dipping to capture your lips again.

He squeezed the flesh of your hips, the rings digging in making you moan into the kiss. Deciding to test the waters Daemon placed a soft spank on your ass, loving the way you gasped when the cool metal bit your flesh. After a few moments of enjoying himself and your noises Daemon turned his attention to you.

Your breathing caught as you felt on of his hands trail over the tops of your thigh, inching closer and closer to your wetness where you craved his touch. You whined when you felt him swipe a finger up your folds and heard him chuckle at your noises. “someone’s eager,” he said, his lips moving from yours to your jaw, kissing down your neck as he teased his fingers around your hole.

“please,” you whined as Daemon bit down on your collarbone, “I need you,” you whined as he pushed two fingers in, feeling the way he was already stretching you out. Daemon began to leave dark purple hickeys on your chest, knowing exactly where to leave them to avoid being caught. As Daemon began to curl his fingers you gasped when you felt his rings, loving the way the cool feeling against your wet skin.

“so desperate,” Daemon muttered, kissing down your chest, “so perfect,” he mumbled as he kissed around your nipple making it harden. Daemon chuckled as he saw your body’s reaction before taking in his mouth, sucking on it gently at first.

Your hand moved to his hair, tugging on his silver strands as you felt a familiar knot tighten in your stomach. Daemons spare hand moved to your free breast, squeezing it harshly making his rings press into the soft skin and making you moan again. “such pretty noises,” Daemon said, releasing your nipple for only a moment before he began sucking on it harder, his teeth grazing the sensitive bud.

You gasped as Daemon softly bit your nipple. You squirmed as Daemon moved his hand, repositioning it so his thumb could rub soft circles into your aching clit. “Daemon,” you whined as you felt yourself get closer with each pump of his fingers.

“look at you,” Daemon said before biting your chest making you gasp and your hips buck, “do you like when I fuck you with my fingers?” He asked, his lips ghosting over your skin.

“yes,” you whined, desperate for his lips against you again.

“you wanna come undone on my fingers, don’t you?” He said, nipping at your skin, his fingers curling to find an all too familiar spot making your body jerk.

You could feel your orgasm approaching, threatening to spill when he gave the command, “yes,” you moaned, not caring how loud it was as your fingers grasped his hair. “please,” you whined as Daemon kissed your neck. “I can’t wait anymore,”

Daemon moved his lips to hover against your ear, his breath fanning your neck, “then don’t,” Daemon whispered, biting your earlobe again, “I wanna see you fall apart on my fingers,” he said, his curling precise and his lips sucking harshly on your neck. You couldn’t hold back anymore, your legs twitching with each curl of his fingers and rub of your clit before your orgasm crashed through your body, your hands clutching onto Daemon as you rode it out not caring how loud you may be.

As you came down from your high, your legs feeling like mush and your body sweaty, you fell into Daemons chest. Daemon stroked your back, kissing your forehead gently. “so, you like the rings then?” He said, a smirk in his voice.

You looked up, laughing slightly as you regained your strength, “I guess you could say that”

Daemon lifted your chin with a finger, kissing your lips softly, “I’ll have to buy some more then,” he said before pulling you to stand from the table, his arms wrapping around your waist, “but im not done with you yet zaldrīzesītsos,”

Taglist: @clairacassidy @valeskafics @starkleila

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cryoculus · 1 year

Text

— guard dog 01 ⟢

pairing: thoma x assassin!reader

summary: you’re a skilled mercenary who takes odd jobs all around inazuma to make ends meet. so when the shogunate hires you to assassinate the lady of the kamisato clan, you don’t think much of it. that’s until you grossly miscalculate how good of a guard dog her chief retainer actually is.

word count: 5.5k words

notable characters: thoma, kamisato ayaka

tags: found family, enemies to lovers, slow burn, angst, eventual smut

warnings: drugging attempts, assassination attempts

notes: i'll be posting chapters one to thirteen everyday at double intervals! this is one of the fics i'm immensely proud of writing, so i hope you like it hehe :')

header art cr: n0yunn on twt

masterlist

You’ve always wondered what the Kamisatos of old had been thinking when they decided to build a mansion by the cliffs of Mount Yougou.

First, you’d either have to make the trek up the mountain or navigate your way through Chinju Forest. The locals of Narukami Island already regarded that place warily—with all the talk about bake-danuki kidnapping lost children in the cover of night, never to be seen again.

And then there was the sudden drop all the way to the rocky shores of the coastline below. One wrong move, and you might just find yourself dead on the beach if you carelessly traipse around the edges of the property.

But you knew, more than most, that the natural terrain wasn’t what made the Kamisato Estate so difficult to breach.

The guards of the Yashiro Commission were stationed uniformly across the area—looking intimidating enough to send any amateur thief packing. One could tell from a glance that these guys had years of training under their belts.

After all, they were guarding one of the three noble households in Inazuma. But it’s not like anyone who knew about Kamisato clan and its retainers was stupid enough to cross them like that.

Unless, of course, they were you.

A flock of birds flew overhead from your vantage point, momentarily distracting you from the task at hand. It was nearing sundown again, and the princess should be tending to the sand gardens right about—

“Now,” you whispered, biting down on a lavender melon as you watched the scene unfold.

Normally, scouting your targets from a perch so high up was impossible. But your employers were generous enough to supply you with a pair of binoculars for the job. You were never one to tinker with any Fontainian contraption imported into the country, but if it works, it works.

Now here you were, hidden away in one of the slated slopes of the mountain as Kamisato Ayaka stepped out into the foyer to admire the scenic view.

She strode gracefully into the garden, rake in hand before gazing out into the open sea. The waning sunlight glittered across the surface in warm tones, and you would have been mesmerized too, if the circumstances had been any different.

Still, this was a sight Ayaka saw everyday, and the princess spared no time soaking up the scenery longer than she had to.

This was your seventh day of lying in wait—familiarizing yourself with each person who went in and out of the estate at all hours of the day. Where they went, what they did, who they spoke to.

Well, not really. Even a dedicated mercenary like you had to take some breaks in-between. But one week was enough for you to memorize the daily habits of the Yashiro Commission.

A greenhorn would never have noticed the way they loosened security in the first hour of twilight. Only five guards out of the original ten stationed outside would remain, and the others would be invited to eat dinner inside the pavilion.

After twenty or-so minutes, they would switch with the guards that stayed behind—rinse and repeat.

During this momentary give in their defenses, though, Ayaka would trace circles into the sand garden in quiet meditation.

Vulnerable. Exposed.

If you decided to take her out with a bow and arrow, gravity would favor you in more ways than one. But you were a shit archer at best, and there was…something else that threw a wrench in your plans. A wildcard in your weeklong observation period that you just couldn’t pin down no matter how many alternatives you tried to come up with.

The lavender melon turned bitter in your mouth once you caught sight of him.

Thoma was someone that’s very hard to miss. You’ve seen him a couple of times around Ritou—all golden hair and swindling smiles��but you never once dared to make his acquaintance. Fixers were crafty people by nature, and you’d rather not get outfoxed by someone like him by any means.

In fact, your constant avoidance was finally bearing fruit now that you’ve been entrusted with the assassination of Kamisato Ayaka.

But while everyone else in the Yashiro Commission stuck with their day-to-day routines faithfully, Thoma seemed like he always just acted on a whim. That man had no concept of routine at all.

Unlike Ayaka who committed herself to her own schedule without fail, Thoma was someone who did something different everyday.

In hindsight, it was expected. He was an undercover fixer—of course his daily to-do list wasn’t patterned the same way as everyone else’s.

The other day, Thoma left the estate at the crack of dawn only to come back a few hours after midnight.

Yesterday, he leveled the hedges as he watched Ayaka practice her swordsmanship in the courtyard.

And now, after bidding a few words in farewell to his charge, he was walking out of the estate with a carefree hint to his strides. If you drew any closer, you might even hear him whistling.

Case in point: this wasn’t the first time you were hired to kill a noble. It was, however, the first time you’ve had to deal with a variable that’s as unpredictable as Thoma.

You watched him take the path that led to Chinju Forest through your binoculars—tossing the stem of your lavender melon to the side. He was probably headed to Inazuma City from the looks of it.

Patiently, you waited until Thoma’s form disappeared into the mist before heaving a long sigh in relief.

Now that he was out of the way, you could afford some room to think.

Admittedly, you weren’t sure why the shogunate even contacted someone like you to carry this out. You were nothing but a lone swordswoman who took on odd jobs to make ends meet. Killing other people for money wasn’t exactly above your moral compass, but could your feats be impressive enough for the Tenryou Commission to seek you out personally?

“Kill the girl and make it seem as if the Sangonomiya rebels were behind it,” said Kujou Masahito, the night he and his men found you. “We’ve been in a stalemate long enough.”

It was a tall order, now that you thought about it. What person in their right mind would accept a mission to: one, infiltrate the Kamisato estate; two, murder the lady of the house; and three, frame the resistance for the act? Sure, the Tenryou Commission practically offered you millions of mora in exchange, but was all that really worth risking your neck for?

However, asking questions wasn’t something you did with your clients. Whoever they were, whatever their motives, so long as they came to you, offering the right price, you would see the job done.

Your discretion has always made you quite the favorite in the Inazuman underworld, and you’d prefer if things stayed that way.

Rising from your aching haunches, you shoved the binoculars into a knapsack. You then cast the estate below a sidelong glance. The sun had long set, and a slew of yellow lanterns lit up the courtyard.

You could see Ayaka being escorted back inside the house by one of her attendants, possibly to join her brother for dinner as well. You paid it no mind.

You’ll allow her some last moments of serenity before putting an end to her life.

About two hours before midnight, you descended from your perch—ducking behind trees while skilfully evading the guards’ line of sight. You quietened your footsteps as you approached the building in which the estate’s denizens resided.

There was no need for you to draw this close, as you’ve already gleaned most of what you needed to know from a distance, but…

It was about time for the princess’ nightly routine. An elegant dance performed beneath the moonlight—with her signature fan scattering white snowflakes in the height of summer.

You’ve heard about the Shirasagi Himegimi’s mesmerizing performances in passing. How she was always the star of every cultural festival in Amakame Island.

You were only human, so you were naturally inclined to be curious. And it’s not as if seeing her dance in the moonlit foyer will derail your plans.

But you’d been a few minutes too late, it seemed. Because now, Ayaka was seated by the edge of the pavilion, gazing silently at the clear sky above. In her hands was a teacup patterned with herons in flight—one of her favorite pieces.

To a normal onlooker (A.K.A., anyone who didn’t spend seven days deliberately stalking her), Ayaka didn’t seem the type to drink tea all by herself. She had an entire Commission’s worth of company, and she could always ask one of her retainers to sit down and nurse a few drinks with her.

But you’ve come to realize that the princess was someone who didn’t like disturbing others—regardless of how minimal the disturbance might be.

Kamisato Ayato took charge of the political dabblings of the Yashiro Commission. Kamisato Ayaka was the face of the clan; the heart of the people; adored by each and every person who knew her by name.

But…why did she look so lonely?

“Milady, you shouldn’t be staying up so late.”

The sound of Thoma’s voice made you seize up like a cat tossed into a basin of water—making you reflexively duck behind the rigid walls on the side of the house. There were no lanterns on this side of the estate, so the darkness should be able to conceal you well enough.

“I was waiting for you to return,” Ayaka admitted aloud, the sound of her sandals scraping against the stone-littered path ringing in your ears. “I…I would have had a hard time falling asleep either way—knowing not everyone is safely back in the mansion at this hour.”

You arched an eyebrow but continued listening in.

“Oh?” There’s a hint of amusement in Thoma’s tone. “Even if I specifically informed you earlier that I might not be back until tomorrow noon, you still waited? Milady, you honor me, but I can’t continue imposing such—”

“You’re not imposing,” Ayaka sighed, and it’s the first time you've heard her sound so…exasperated. But then again, Ayaka was only ever this animated in the company of her chief retainer. “As one of the leaders of the Yashiro Commission, it’s my responsibility to ensure the well-being of my retainers.”

“Isn’t it the other way around, though?” Thoma laughed, and you got the impression that you were intruding on something you weren’t supposed to. (A little too late to have those sentiments now, but you still had some integrity, at least.) “Well, I know there’s no changing your mind when it is already set, milady. How about we pair your evening tea with some sakura mochi I brought from the Teahouse?”

A pause. “You’re going to tell me what you were doing in Inazuma City, yes?”

“It would be a disservice not to.”

Knowing you’d already lingered for too long, you fled the scene—silently backing away until you heard a loud crunch echoing into the evening air. You jolted, cursing under your breath when you realized you’d stepped on a damn twig—!

“Thoma? What’s wrong?”

Then, footsteps—accompanied by the sound of the chief retainer’s accessories jingling on his person. You ducked behind an unsuspecting aralia tree, but right in front of you was a sheer drop into the ocean. Archons damn it. You hadn’t realized how close you were to the edge of the cliff.

Instinctively, you pressed your back further against the tree bark, wondering what the hell Thoma was even doing here when he supposedly had business to attend to in the city.

“It’s nothing, milady,” he sighed, and you felt your shoulders sag with relief as you heard his voice draw further away. “Just thought I’d heard something.”

“You must be tired if you’re starting to hear things.”

Not waiting for Thoma to come up with a response, you made your timely escape.

Somewhere down the deeper corners of Chinju Forest was an abandoned shrine. It was on the smaller side—the ornamental roof layered with thick moss, and the talismans having faded with age. You hadn’t the slightest clue which deity it was dedicated to, but it was for that reason that you declared it your designated territory of sorts.

There, you took out a shovel from your knapsack before digging a hole into the ground. It was safer to leave what little belongings you had where no people could even begin to look. And you’d rather not be carrying all your possessions when you’re about to infiltrate a mansion.

Once you’re satisfied with the depth, you began to rummage through the bag. You only took what was strictly needed—a pouch of powdered crystal marrow and a lone dark feather.

Mora and weapons wouldn’t be necessary if you did the job properly, which you will. But before you could turn around to shovel the unearthed soil back in place, you twisted the feather in your fingers.

This was the item that secured your agreement to the Tenryou Commission’s outlandish request. Kujou Sara was known to be a fierce warrior on the battlefield, so if Masahito managed to procure one of her feathers and give it to you, it was the real deal.

The shogunate really was out to tip the scales and launch the country into a civil war.

However, the feather was also a contingency plan of sorts.

“If you foresee yourself being unable to complete the mission, burn it and we’ll send someone to come to your aid,” Masahito informed, and while you were grateful for the possible fallback, you wondered if burning it rendered your reward money null and void. You didn’t ask, nor did he elaborate.

It was normal to have your reservations about this. After all, you could very much go down in the history books as the match that ignited the bloodiest war in Inazuma. But you never really cared much for appearances. Not now, not ever.

Once you accept a job, you’ll see it through until the end.

“H-Help, please… Help.”

The guards were quick to act once you emerged from the forest the following day—bloody and beaten and quivering in your boots. One of them managed to catch you before you could fully collapse to the ground, and he immediately barked orders to prepare a room and call a healer.

Faking your identity to mislead victims was a trick you picked up from an old acquaintance. The acting that went into the entire charade was as troublesome as it sounded, but you weren’t exactly given many cards to play here.

Hell, even the method you’d decided to assassinate Ayaka with was far from your usual. But you didn’t build a reputation for yourself by cutting corners and half-assing your jobs, that’s for sure.

Of all the members of the Tri-Commission, the Yashiro Commission was the most impartial. They had the hearts of the people of Inazuma, and the Kamisato clan collectively cared for them in return.

Whether you’re a rebel or a shogunate officer, if you turned up half-dead on their doorstep, it was ingrained in their principles to take you in. That kindness, however, was a double-edged sword.

They’d just invited a murderer into the heart of their stronghold.

However, their retainers weren’t complete idiots. Before rushing you into a room to get your injuries tended to, a due interrogation was conducted. (Who are you? Where did you come from? What happened?)

All their questions, you answered with a somewhat convincing act—you’re woozy from the “blood loss”, unable to respond coherently, drifting in and out of consciousness. But they could glean from your tattered maroon disguise uniform that you were part of the resistance.

“She probably tried to infiltrate the Kujou Encampment,” suggested one of the female attendants. “Both sides are growing more and more desperate each day… Should we inform Lady Ayaka and Lord Ayato?”

The proposal was met with a grunt from a man you recognized as Madarame Hyakubei. “Lord Ayato requested for us not to disturb him today, and Lady Ayaka is resting for the afternoon. Granted, Master Thoma didn’t say when he’ll return either so I suggest we keep this under wraps for now.”

Keep this under wraps. Yeah, that definitely worked in your favor.

With a silent, unanimous agreement, the rest of the guards left you in the hands of their resident healer—a meek woman who introduced herself as Hina.

You knew better than to respond to any of her inquiries, so you continued masquerading your own deliriousness as she patched up your self-inflicted wounds. Hina didn’t linger longer than she had to, and once you stopped fake-moaning in pain, she eventually got up and resumed whatever task your arrival had rudely interrupted.

There were still some curious attendants sneaking glances into the room they’d put you in, though—whispering amongst themselves in hushed tones. Thankfully, those gossiping girls went about their own business sometime later, and you’re left completely alone.

You couldn’t really do much in your current state. The people around the mansion were led to believe that you’ve been gravely injured. It would definitely raise suspicions if anyone saw you tiptoeing around the house, so you bide your time.

You’ve waited an entire week to put your plans into motion, what’s a few hours more?

When night fell, you expected one of the attendants to bring you dinner—if the Yashiro Commission’s extensive hospitality was anything to go by.

The anticipation might have also been fueled by the fact that it’s been days since you’ve eaten a proper meal. Whenever the guards outside ate altogether in the pavilion, the food prepared for them looked so appetizing. You couldn’t really blame yourself for pondering what they’ll serve you.

But the person who emerged into the room a few minutes later was the last one you’d expected to come.

“L-Lady Kamisato,” you stammered, sitting upright to bow your head. “It’s an honor. Please don’t trouble yourself with this…”

Ayaka flashed you a gentle smile, kneeling on the tatami to set the tray of food on your bedside. “It’s only proper that I see our guest with a warm welcome. You must be feeling better now that you can speak to me. My retainers said you were practically unintelligible earlier.”

Fuck. You broke character.

Swallowing thickly, you managed a dry laugh. “Your healer was amazing, miss. I didn’t think I would make it through the day, actually…”

She nodded in understanding, a grim look suddenly crossing her pristine features. “I see. You’re one of the Sangonomiya rebels, aren’t you? May I ask what you’re doing all the way here on Narukami Island?”

You purposely let your shoulders sag in a false show of emotion. “I…was sent for an espionage mission, but I got hunted down by the shogun’s lap dogs. Thanks to you, though, I’m still in one piece.”

“I had no part in your recovery. It’s all the work of my retainers,” Ayaka clarified with that same, unwavering smile. She gestured for you to take the food she’d brought. “Go on. I’m sure you’re hungry, so you better eat something.”

You were gladly about to indulge in her offer before—

“Milaaaady,” drawled an obnoxiously loud voice coming from the halls. And when a head of golden hair poked itself into the room, you felt your appetite vanishing in a puff of smoke. “Why’d you leave me in the kitchen? I can’t look after you if you’re going around without me, you know?”

There he was—the wild card that constantly threw your plans into disarray.

“Thoma, don’t be too loud. She’s still resting,” Ayaka chided as he knelt beside her on your bedside. “This is Thoma, the chief retainer of the Kamisato clan. He normally isn’t this noisy, so I hope you forgive him.”

No introduction needed, thank you very much, you wanted to say, but kept your mouth rightfully shut. Instead, you met Thoma’s green-eyed gaze as you tilted your head in a curt bow. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you as well,” he chuckled before folding his arms together. “I believe I haven’t caught your name yet…”

A name. Right. You had to give them a name—not your real name, of course. You weren’t that overconfident.

“Kira,” you spoke softly. “My name is Kira.”

“I see. So, Miss Kira…you’re from the resistance, huh? What’s the status over there in Watatsumi Island?”

Again, you assumed your role as a fugitive rebel with sigh. “Not too good. They’ve pushed us back so far that we had to resort to underhanded tactics.”

Thoma raised an eyebrow. “Such as?”

Immediately remembering the suggestion of one of the attendants earlier, you decided to use that as a reference. “Infiltrating the Kujou Encampment to gain some intel. Though, I hardly got that done at all since…” Then, a wordless gesture towards the bandages wrapped around your body.

Ayaka flashed you a pitiful expression while Thoma hummed to himself. Did you really sound that convincing? Nonetheless, the chief retainer spoke again. “A wise man once told me that the best way out of a predicament is through. Why don’t you guys just march straight into Inazuma City and take it up to the Raiden Shogun herself?”

“Why don’t we step out and allow our guest to have some peace tonight?” Ayaka intervened, rising to her feet while tugging on Thoma’s sleeve in the process as she turned to you. “He asks too many questions sometimes. Again, please forgive him.”

You shook your head. “I’m already taking up much of your time as is. The one seeking penance should be me, milady.”

The princess shook her head once more as they made their way out of the room. “We hope for nothing but utmost health for you, Miss Kira. Please don’t hesitate to call for us if you need anything. We can discuss your situation further in the morning.”

When the door slid shut behind them, you could still vaguely make out some fragments of conversation. Ayaka was saying something along the lines of, “You should really be more polite to our guests,” and Thoma only responded with a peal of laughter.

Then, your eyes flickered towards your dinner—braised salted fish with pickled seaweed on the side.

“All these formalities for a complete stranger?” you muttered, pulling apart the chopsticks they’d provided as you shook your head. “Bunch of fools...”

Once you’ve had your fill, you tossed the blankets aside and stretched your limbs. Acting bedridden could easily make you feel the part, and you had to keep your blood pumping for what you were about to do.

For some reason, Hina and the guards didn’t bother inspecting you or your clothes, which proved to be quite the advantage.

Walking over to where they’d set down your boots, you turned the left boot upside down—shaking it rigidly until a satin pouch and a dark feather fell to the floor.

The pouch that contained the poison you were to use weighed almost nothing in your palm, and it was for that reason you chose it.

Powdered crystal marrow was so easy to conceal that slipping it into the princess’ evening tea was mere child’s play. You then shoved Kujou Sara’s feather in one of your pockets, praying you didn’t have to use it at all.

When the door to the room slid open again, you were completely prepared. This time, it wasn’t Kamisato Ayaka nor Thoma who went in to collect the tray.

It was one of the attendants that had been gossiping outside while the healer was tending to your injuries.

She paused by the entrance when she noticed you weren’t in your futon, and it was at that moment that you pounced—muffling her nose with a cloth laced with poison. Not enough to kill her, but certainly enough to knock her out.

Knowing that you’re quickly running out of time, you disrobed the attendant and replaced your disguise with her clothes swiftly.

The sleeves billowed just right around your arms, and the obi wasn’t too difficult to tie. And since you felt slightly bad for having to drag her into this, you covered the attendant’s bare body with the thin blanket of your futon.

With the tray that Ayaka had dropped off in hand, you closed the door to your room—eyes darting around for anyone who could have gotten wind of what just happened.

Fortunately, there weren’t many people milling inside the mansion. Just a couple of attendants dusting furniture and scrubbing the tatami.

None of them spared you so much as a backwards glance. But, knowing you couldn’t exactly disguise your face, you made yourself scarce—heading to a hall that you had a hunch led to the kitchen.

Based on the brief glimpses you’d seen prior to your relocation to the room, your guess should be right, and the attendant you’d just taken out was about to bring Ayaka her evening tea. You didn’t perform a weeklong stake-out for your calculations to be incorrect.

With each step you took across the hall, your heart pounded dreadfully. This was it. You were almost there. If you managed to pull this off, your mantle as Inazuma’s most cunning assassin would be set in stone. Your services would be sought after, and you’d be raking in millions from each job.

(And then Inazuma would be plunged into chaos. The fall of the Kamisato clan’s eldest daughter undoubtedly offsetting the peace that the people of Narukami tried so hard to maintain. The Electro Archon would no longer have any reason to hold back. But would the Raiden Shogun lash out on the very people whom she promised a never-ending eternity?

Would someone like you even be spared from her wrath?)

Your predictions have been correct. You were headed the right way. The kitchen was at the far end of this hall, and none of the other attendants were present.

Instead, the one that greeted you was the chief retainer in all his smug glory—instantly ripping you away from your musings of the future, and back to the dreadful present.

Thoma stood in front of the counter, a fresh tea set patterned with Ayaka’s favorite herons painted elegantly on each ceramic piece. Behind him, a kettle sat on top of the stove—the low flame illuminating the room just a tad brighter.

He didn’t seem surprised to see you, nor did he have any outward reaction to the fact that you’re wearing an attendant’s uniform. Instead, he leaned across the wooden surface, sighing.

“Well that’s just disappointing,” he lamented. “I really rooted for you, you know. Hope you’d give it up and leave once you’ve gotten a taste of milady’s kindness.”

You kept your lips sealed, straightening yourself as you sauntered over to the sink. Your movements were quiet as you set down the bowl and chopsticks they’d given, and Thoma watched your every move.

You had absolutely no clue how he’d managed to sniff you out as quickly as he did, but if he wasn’t pinning you to the floor and tying you up yet, then you still had some leeway for escape.

“I’ve already expected your arrival, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Thoma supplied. “You’re good at not leaving any tracks, but you aren’t exactly keen on concealing your presence. It’s almost like you wanted me to know what you were up to.”

Despite his friendly tone, you kept your silence—gaze roving around the kitchen for any clean-cut exits, only to realize there were none.

You half-contemplated using the rest of your powdered crystal marrow to incapacitate him and make your escape. Though you’re yet to witness it firsthand, Thoma would definitely be worth something in a fight if he was the Kamisatos’ chief retainer.

The injuries you’d sustained from throwing it down with a bunch of mitachurls to look convincingly mangled weren’t all fake. If you were backed into a corner now, you’ll definitely lose.

But you reminded yourself that every dose you got your hands on was few and far in between. You didn’t want to risk your future kills for a momentary lapse in judgement.

So, like any cornered animal, you did what was logical at that moment.

You ran for your life.

Or, at least tried to.

Before you could even step out of the kitchen, Thoma was already on you—seizing both of your wrists and twisting them behind your back. Your jaw throbbed as he slammed your face against the wall, and no matter how hard you struggled, you couldn’t break free from his grip.

“Get your hands off me, guard dog,” you hissed, desperately trying to kick him in the groin as a last resort.

Thoma let out another stupidly carefree laugh as he evaded your attempts at his family jewels. “Guard dog? That’s a new one. And you say it like it’s an insult.”

“Fuck you!”

“Now, now. That’s not a very kind thing to say.” He pouted. “And milady was so insistent for me to be polite. Not so deserving now, are you?”

Irritated, you considered spitting in his face, but remembered you had more tact than that. “So? Just kill me then. You already predicted I’d try to kill her, didn’t you?”

The moment you’d articulated the words, it struck you that Thoma was acting awfully calm about your blatant revelation. If it had been one of the other retainers, they’d probably be fuming at the knowledge.

Maybe they would’ve called the police by now. Worse, they’d have you executed on the spot.

But this man didn’t look like a fiercely loyal retainer who prioritized the well-being of his charge above all else. As you struggled to get a look at him from the impossible position he’d pinned you with, Thoma flashed you a conspiratorial grin that gave you the creeps.

“Killing you would be too easy, don’t you think?” the chief retainer sighed. “And besides, milady seems to have taken a liking to you. She’s never met a member of the resistance before. She even wondered over dinner if you two could be friends.”

You clicked your tongue. “I thought you already knew that I wasn’t—”

“Yes, yes. I knew you were a fraud the moment you answered my questions earlier,” Thoma interjected with a chuckle. “No bona fide member of the resistance would give away sensitive information like that so freely. They’d rather kill themselves first before revealing the strategies of Her Excellency, Sangonomiya.”

Oh. So that’s how he figured out.

“Okay, so my acting could be a bit better,” you began snarkily. “But what does it matter now? You caught me. The Almighty chief retainer of the Kamisato household has caught another mouse in the trap. Now could you please just get to the part where you lead me down to the gallows to commit seppuku?”

You were stalling. No one with a survival instinct as desperate as yours would easily resign themselves to a soundless execution.

In reality, you were wiggling an arm out of his grasp in an attempt to reach for the feather tucked in the folds of your stolen obi. Thoma held you conveniently close to the stove, and if you could just toss it into the low flame—

“Hm? But what if it isn’t my intention to have you killed at all?”

That made you pause.

As if to prove a point, Thoma unhanded you and put his palms up in faux-surrender. You scoffed as you rubbed your face.

“Look, I knew you’ve been scouting the area for days now, and you basically just admitted to your own intentions on milady’s life,” he elaborated. “I also knew that this place is too tightly guarded for you to execute your plans as smoothly as you liked. So you had to carry out your mission in the most roundabout way possible.”

“Yes, yes. Of course, of course,” you spat sarcastically. “If you’re so smart and all-knowing, just cut to the damn chase.”

Thoma let out another laugh, and you were so close to sacrificing your last stash of powdered crystal marrow just to see him drop dead.

“The point is, even if I know all these things…milady doesn’t.”

“...I don’t follow.”

Sighing, Thoma leaned against the counter with another disdainful sigh. “I’m offering you an alternative, Miss Kira. Heh. Even the name you picked was a dead giveaway. Seriously? A name that means kill?”

You clicked your tongue. “What alternative are we speaking of again?”

This time, the chief retainer flashed you a look that made you feel like he was mocking you.

“I’ll forget all the information you just revealed to me tonight. I’ll pretend as if our…altercation never happened.” He listed each condition on his fingers before pointing at your stolen garbs. “And I’ll even deal with the poor attendant whose clothes you nabbed. I’m sure I can bribe her into keeping her silence.”

Not liking how good the odds were for you if Thoma simply feigned ignorance like that, you asked, “What do you want in return?”

What came out of his mouth in the next moment, however, was probably the most ridiculous job you’d ever been saddled with in your life. It put Kujou Masanori’s orders to utter, absolute shame.

“Well, it’s very simple, actually.” Thoma grinned. “I want you to be…milady’s friend.”

next ->

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin fanfic #genshin smut #genshin fanfiction #thoma fanfic #thoma smut #genshin x reader #thoma x reader #genshin headcanons #genshin thoma #cryoculus #guard dog

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weirdowithaquill · 8 months

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Traintober 2023: Day 1 - Free Day

Preservation on Sodor:

Sodor must be one of the most interesting places to look at when it comes to railway preservation, if not also road, sea and air preservation. For starters, the island’s railways are all still primarily run by vintage steam traction – but there’s also Harold, who is in his 60s or 70s at this point, Bertie the bus (who is nearing 100), Trevor and Terrence and George – not to mention the fact that the island seems to continue to have antique ships within its waters, including steam ships and fishing trawlers.

But of course, I want to focus on the railways – and in particular how Sodor must be the British hub for heritage railways, museums and other attractions. For starters, Sodor has by far the largest heritage railway system in the world for its size, with over 80 miles of mainline, several branchlines, a narrow-gauge railway, a mountain railway and a miniature gauge railway. It also has a massive fleet of engines – 80 by the Reverend’s count on the NWR alone – making it possibly the single largest working heritage railway in the UK, if not Europe. This would instantly attract many preservationists wishing to run their locomotives, meaning that mainline excursions and visitors would be a frequent sight on the island. This in turn would bring in tourists, who would make money for the NWR and the railway the engines belong to, as well as helping the Fat Controller if one of his enignes is unable to work. It would also give us as railfans the chance to see unique motive power on a variety of trains - like a Coronation Class pulling a slow goods, or a Hughes Crab on a China Clay train - things we don't get to see anymore.

Furthermore, Sodor is home to Crovan’s Gate Works, the largest steamworks of its kind in Britain. For its influence, I am going to turn to 60163 Tornado. When Tornado was built, her boiler had to be manufactured in Germany because there was just no one in the UK able to produce a boiler of the type, while the superheater header needed to be attempted by three foundries before it was assembled correctly. Crovan’s Gate Works, which is able to maintain a full fleet of engines including Gordon – who is also an A1 with many similarities – would have been able to do both in a far timelier manner. The same would go for all locomotive repair programs in the UK. Crovan’s Gate would either host locomotives or manufacture parts for them, becoming a hub for preservation across the country. Engines like Stepney or Green Arrow would be able to be overhauled at the Works, rather than be taken out of service. This would effect how many steam engines are in working order in Britain, if not Europe, as the refurbishment time would be significantly shortened - something that is compounded if said locomotive shares any components with a Sodor engine - like Talyllyn, Dolgoch, Flying Scotsman or any of the Black 5s, Panniers or Autotanks in preservation.

This brings me on to the last point: International Tourism. Sodor must be one of the most visited locations in Britain in this universe. For starters, there’s all the fans of the book and TV series (which are both canon and referenced in the books). This means that Sodor would have tens of thousands of families coming to the island from around the world annually to see the ‘Eight Famous Engines’ or the ‘Steam Team’, bringing in a massive amount of revenue for hotels, local businesses and the railways themselves. But there would also be the railfans who come with the aforementioned railtours, as well as international railfans who want to see steam in action in a mainline setting – something nearly impossible anywhere on the planet. Sodor has at least one airport (and probably two, considering in real life there is an airport on Walney Island near the real-life Vickerstown), six ports connected to the NWR, and a rail and road link to the UK. The island has the infrastructure to handle the flocks of tourists, and this would in turn benefit much of the rest of Northern England. This would majorly benefit the preservation world by bringing in funding for Sodor, which is in turn able to fund things like track upgrades, or overhauls for engines beyond their own railway. It also gives other railways a good place to promote themselves, as Sodor has a guaranteed market for tourists who may travel to these other railways.

You cannot understate how much these books have done for Sodor, and for railway preservation as a whole.

So, Sodor is at the very least a centre for preservation in the UK, with railtours, overhauls and masses of international tourists – but it’s also where a lot of engines were likely rescued from. We see it in Oliver and Douglas, but engines know of Sodor and its safety. I can imagine an alternate universe in which engines keep turning up throughout the 1960s, being brought to safety on Sodor and then sold to heritage railways, being overhauled at Crovan’s Gate before moving to their new homes. Sodor would act as an intermediate in this era, being able to do the paperwork to preserve engines due to its position in the national network while also being aligned with the cause of the heritage railways. Sodor is a safe haven for steam, and this would have a significant impact on its position as a preservation hub for the UK.

Back to the Master Post

#railway series #weirdowithaquill #thomas the tank engine #railways #traintober 2023 #railway preservation #rambles

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asimplearchivist · 2 days

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𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓡𝓮𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓷

𝐂𝐇. 𝐈𝐈𝐈 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐍, 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍. 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐕 𝐨𝐟 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓.

[𝓪𝓼𝓲𝓶𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓬𝓱𝓲𝓿𝓲𝓼𝓽'𝓼 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽] [ 𝐏𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐃𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ] [ AO3 | SPOTIFY | PINTEREST ] summary ✨ ⤏ eliana wonders if getting her memories back does more harm than good. pairing(s) ✨ [tba] word count ✨ 3.7k a/n ✨ [header credit] | [divider credit] ⤏ this is mostly exposition, and for that I apologize, but I promise that it will pick up from here! now I've got a couple of chapters pre-written, so maybe I can stay ahead! :) ✨ MASTERPOST ✨ ✨ PREVIOUS CHAPTER ⤎ ✨ ⤏ NEXT CHAPTER [TBA] ✨

Whatever Eliana may have expected in her idle postulations about dispelling her amnesia in the long, troubled years she spent without them, she could never have anticipated the conflict that the reality of it, in actuality, brought her. She wouldn’t have expected it all to come back at once, and she’d even had her doubts about how her wish might be answered by Jirachi on her and Lu’s journey home, but she supposed it only made sense that the ability which so mysteriously bound her to Lu and to Grovyle was the very thing that restored her mind to rights. It was…a lot to take in, admittedly, despite it all having already occurred—it was almost like experiencing her life all over again, fresh and new and painful.

To start: her recollections of life as a human in the world from which she was sent. That was an entire can of partially opened worms that she was not entirely keen on revisiting.

The precious time spent with Grovyle—who, upon their introduction, was a Treecko—was far preferable despite the melancholic connotations surrounding the memories that they’d made together, unflinchingly traveling the frozen planet’s unforgiving terrain with purpose whilst learning to trust one another and—in so doing—built an unshakable bond. With it came an unavoidable toll—Eliana was forced to grieve the loss of her most trusted partner all over again, recalling everything from their first meeting to the split-second decision made to push him away from Darkrai’s malicious ranged attack in the midst of careening through the Passage of Time, with startling clarity. Her being thrown from the Passage, free-falling into a stormy sky, crashing into the churning sea below, bashing her transforming head into a rock to start the entire chain of events that led to her present state…all while Grovyle had been pitched halfway across the continent into the very forest from which he had originated in the dark future, alone and terrified of what became of her.

With that came everything else, too. Precious allies and dangerous enemies made while resolving themselves to a life spent on the run under constant pursual in effort to bring about a peaceful, whole, and better world at the cost of their own lives as well as those around them. Walking miles upon miles to confirm the original locations of the deteriorated Time Gears, painstakingly determining the extent of her inexplicable ability, all while trying to constantly outrun and outsmart their hunters. Wounds incurred for each other’s sake, tense naps taken with rotating shifts (for which the rester usually was never awakened), conversations exchanged that conveyed their deepest thoughts and feelings. Eliana had never had anyone closer to her than Grovyle by the time they were preparing for their journey back in time. Losing him—not once, but twice—in spite of her best efforts to prevent it was the hardest thing she thought she had ever endured in her life.

It also added that much more weight to the recent chapters of her experiences. She mourned the fact that she had failed to recognize him in Quicksand Cave and at Crystal Crossing, regretted ever hurting him due to the lies that had been orchestrated to demonize him and his motivations. She wondered at the fact that Celebi had recognized her instantly, but Eliana hadn’t had an inkling of who she was. She wished that she would have listened to her gut feelings to trust Grovyle sooner—it would have given them more time. It would have spared them some of the heartbreak they endured in the end. (And, if she had trusted her instincts to start with, she would not have been deceived at all.)

But, even still, Eliana recognized that the path she’d traveled had its purpose. She would never have met Lu if things had gone according to plan, after all—and she wouldn’t trade her second partner for anything for all the good that he had done for her (just like Grovyle had, but in different areas—Lu’s innocence and unflinching hope had juxtaposed Grovyle’s timidity and constant hesitation, but both had afforded her room to heal the fractured parts of herself that needed others’ influence).

It took several days for Eliana to readjust. Lu chose some lighter job requests for them to do that would help to keep her busy without any true danger because he had long since learned that she was able to think best while moving and working. He gave her ample space and didn’t verbally press her, but he always stayed within the reach of her voice. She found it difficult to talk much, nearly constantly bombarded by the impressions of her past life as they reemerged from the depths of her psyche while interacting with those from her new one. If the other Guild members had noticed her apprehensive, halfhearted greetings, they hadn’t said anything to her directly about it. She spent a lot of time taking in the brunt of the tide, per se, balancing the influx of emotions that accompanied each wave between acceptance and longing.

If Lu thought anything of her curling up in his bed at night to help fight the additional nightmares that cropped up, as well, he—mercifully—did not voice it.

Eliana thought that she would get used to it. She allowed herself those days to sit back somewhat and let her mind reconcile with the recovered pieces of herself that had been buried. She was grateful to realize that it had not changed her personality in any way, at the very least—now she remembered stories of people acting like complete strangers—but there was something in her that was simply unable to settle. She no longer felt like herself, to an extent, she mused. She had rebuilt an entirely different life here in the past with Lu and the rest of Treasure Town’s citizens, but she no longer felt as intense of a connection to them—as though a barrier had been raised since the full realization that she didn’t truly belong here had struck her. She was never meant to stay here—that a higher power (likely the one that had brought her to this world, she suspected) would grant her the mercy of returning per Lu’s fervent wish was a mercy unrepayable, but it felt…almost wrong in a way she could not articulate no matter how hard she tried. She felt like an intruder, a foreigner occupying space not intended for her. Even though she was supposed to feel complete with the recovery of her whole identity, she only felt even more fragmented than before.

Lu gave her time to broach the subject, as patient and as understanding as he’d always been. He also knew that she didn’t like to discuss things until she was fully prepared to do so, having ironed out her reasoning and line of thought prior. She began to relay some of her memories from the paralyzed, first—the tender ones, the lighthearted ones, and the dire ones that had defined her initial resolve to save the world. She spoke fondly of Grovyle and Celebi, relieved by the assurance that she could share vital information about their histories and personalities with Lu since he’d only known as much as she had. She shared the details that she had desperately yearned to recall for so long, and he listened attentively without interruption—only offering gentle words of encouragement when she’d get a bit overwhelmed—all while preparing their supper.

Once she was done, he began to ask questions: what it was like having to defend herself as a human (especially in mystery dungeons), what life was like in the paralyzed future, what remarkable events she witnessed and things she saw. These she answered easily—it was as if he knew how to avoid the topics that would bother her most, carefully skirting the more harrowing memories that had her jerking awake in the middle of the night and burrowing into his side for comfort in breathing in his scent to settle her racing heart. She would rather not think about getting chased by Primal Dialga and the relentless henchmen that followed her and Grovyle all over the continent.

She only felt brave enough to give him her confession once the fire had burned itself to embers and they were curled up in the dark. Restless and gazing out across the sea, Eliana had stretched her foreleg off the edge of their shared mound of hay (since made larger once Lu had figured out that she would need his direct presence if she would get any sleep for longer than a couple of nights) and traced her claws across the wind-swept stone floor.

“…Do you think it’s normal to feel like a stranger in my own skin now?” she asked quietly, barely audible under the susurration of the wind drifting through the open bluff.

Although she had her back turned to him, she felt Lu shift—likely to look at her. She wondered if her aura appeared as much of a mess as she felt. “…I wouldn’t know,” he admitted after a moment, and his paw rested between her shoulder blades. “But it doesn’t surprise me. You have two different halves of yourself that you’re having to stitch back together. It definitely won’t be easy in the long run.”

She’d figured that out quickly. Eliana sighed and curled her tail over Lu’s waist in gratitude. “Do I seem different?”

“Not really. You’ve been a little quiet, but I’m sure that’s a lot to take in.”

“I…suppose.” She swallowed. “Do I look different?”

“Ah. In that respect, yes.”

Eliana frowned and rolled over, studying Lu’s expression in the dim, ambient moonlight eking through the bluff’s gaping maw. “‘Yes’ in a bad way or ‘yes’ in a good way?”

“Neither. Auras are not inherently good nor bad,” he explained, “they simply are.”

He had explained to her it before in passing—or had tried to, since he’d been younger and without near as much knowledge as he had now. Eliana rested her cheek on the hay and gazed up at him with an expectant, inquisitive hum.

“Every Pokémon has a different aura, but it oscillates depending on their moods—that’s influenced by their thoughts or motivations. Yours has always been dark green, but…it was matte, almost. Now it has more depth, like everyone else’s does—so I think your amnesia stifled your aura until your memories returned.” He tilted his head slightly, his ears flopping over the edge of the bed. “I don’t know if that’s direct correlation or causation, but…that’s just what I’ve noticed. I’m sorry you don’t feel well.” He paused. “Is there anything I can do?”

“No,” Eliana sighed. “I guess I’ve just got to…get used to it. It’s a lot.”

Lu offered her a thin-lipped smile. “I’d say.”

Foregoing a response, she closed her eyes and hunkered in, burying her nose into the soft fur of his torso.

Lu draped his forearm over her back and tucked his muzzle behind her ear with a sleepy snuffle. “I don’t see you differently, if that makes you feel better,” he murmured over the crash of the surf against the cliffs far below. “You’re still my best friend.”

“Even with the additional trauma?” she posed wryly.

“Of course. I just hate that it’s causing you pain a second time over.”

“Maybe that just comes with the territory.”

“Perhaps.” Lu yawned. “Nevertheless, sleep if you can.”

“I’ll try. I’m sorry if I end up waking you again.”

“Don’t. I’m here for you. It doesn’t bother me.”

Eliana had her doubts, but then again she’d always had a hard time trusting that people would sincerely choose to stay with her and had kept most at arm’s length for years. Grovyle had been the first exception to that rule in a very long time. She’d really had no choice but to trust Lu, but fortunate had favored her that day by giving her someone who would protect her when she needed it most.

“Goodnight, Lu,” she mumbled, lulled by the muffled thump of his heart near her ear.

“Goodnight, Eliana,” he returned quietly, pulling her a little closer.

She did manage to sleep—dreamlessly at that, to her immense relief. Lu roused her when he got up, and they went about their morning routine together. She felt lighter than she had in days, finally having released the pressure of her internal turmoil. She even offered to handle their daily Guild errands while Lu prepared for their missions, whereas before she’d clung closely to his side so he could handle the brunt of their social interactions while she found her footing again.

She called down a greeting to Diglett and Loudred as she passed over the security grate, picked her way down the winding staircase, and emerged onto the second floor. A couple of teams were already there conducting their business, and she glanced at both bulletin boards to see if there were any jobs she could add their pending queue.

None. Eliana’s mouth thinned as she tilted her head. She and Lu had opted to take the missions for dungeons most teams didn’t dare enter in order to help those in need, but there was a notable absence of them today. She supposed it didn’t matter. While they had been clearing their chest for the most part, she knew that it had been a trend for influxes of jobs to come in at different times. They had at least a week’s worth left over to do.

Eliana left the Guild to meet Lu at the crossroads, but he was nowhere to be found. She frowned as she stood in the center, squinting up the road that lead into town, then turning and staring down the road that branched off into the wilderness. He wouldn’t have gone into Spinda’s, so that left only one option.

Eliana trotted down the embankment that wound down the side of the plateau towards the beach and wound through the encroaching underbrush that had burgeoned under the summer sun. Team Razorwind usually trimmed the trails around Treasure Town, but she figured they might have been busy lately. Rock crumbled into sand before she emerged onto the beach proper, finally spotting her partner standing ankle-deep in the surf speaking to Lapras, whom they hadn’t seen in several months.

As Eliana approached, the transport Pokémon turned his head to greet her warmly. “Good day to you, Eliana.”

“Hello,” she returned with a smile. “It’s been a while. How have you been?”

“Well. Conducting Master Dialga’s business is time-consuming, but never tedious.” Lapras tilted his head to look at Lu. “I thank you for your expediency.”

Eliana bumped her flank into his hip. “I wondered where you wandered off to.”

“I asked one of the Krabby to fetch the pair of you for me, and he found Lu firs,” Lapras explained. “I bring news from the Hidden Land.”

Eliana stilled and sucked in a breath. The sand seemed to waver under her feet. She looked up at Lu apprehensively.

“The temporal and spatial anomaly surrounding me has finally dissipated completely,” he explained carefully. She couldn’t read his expression for once, and it made her heart beat faster. “But yours hasn’t.”

“As I am certain you are well aware,” Lapras continued, “you did not originate here. Master Dialga is toiling to repair the damages dealt to his realm, just as Master Palkia is his own, but they both have encountered some…hiccups, so to speak.”

“I thought all that was solved since we were able to evolve a long time ago,” Eliana pointed out hesitantly.

“That is true, to an extent,” Lapras agreed. “But Master Dialga has informed me that, in order to continue his efforts to mend the fabric of reality, certain obstacles must be removed.”

Eliana stiffened as the fur along her spine bristled. The last time she’d heard something like that…

Lapras dipped his head in apology, noticing her distress. “Forgive me, I worded that poorly. I only meant that you should be returned to your time, Eliana. Master Dialga instructed that you be brought to the Passage of Time in Hidden Land in order for you to be sent safely back, as the Dimensional Holes—while able to be summoned most anywhere—are far weaker and more prone to accidents.”

“You can go home, Eliana,” Lu added softly. When Eliana returned her attention to him, she realized that he was intentionally steeling his demeanor to hide his inner tumult—he hadn’t done that since he’d finally earned his confidence through their myriad misadventures, least of all towards her. “This is your chance.”

“I…this is kind of sudden,” she offered quietly, looking between them as she sat heavily on the damp sand and curled her tail around her legs.

“I understand,” Lapras said, “and Master Dialga instructed me to tell you that it is not necessary at this moment—he only wanted to prepare you for the inevitable. You will eventually have to return in order for time to be completely reconstructed. Your influence here will continue to cause repercussions into the continuum, which will hinder his efforts more and more. You pose the risk of causing irreparable alterations to the timeline.”

“That was the whole point of me being here, though,” Eliana responded through clenched teeth. “I was returned here after…after the future was healed. I don’t understand.”

“He does not expect you to, as it is an extremely complex subject to mortals. I myself do cannot comprehend it all. Time is by no means linear, and although your interactions with the past have—to present—been beneficial, it could cause deviations in the folding that has occurred. It is a critical, tenuous balance that cannot endure much more tampering.”

“I don’t have a choice,” she surmised lamely.

Lapras tilted his head. “Master Dialga anticipated that you would want to return to your time. Was his assumption incorrect?”

“I…no,” she admitted, “I just didn’t expect it to be motivated by something like this.”

“At least it hasn’t caused anything catastrophic,” Lu told her, somewhat wryly. He placed a reassuring paw between her shoulder blades. “Lapras said we can have a day to think it over. Do you still want to go out today?”

“Yeah. We can…talk about it on the way.” Eliana swallowed. “Thank you, Lapras. You’ll stay nearby, then?”

“Yes. You can give me your decision in the morning. As I said, you needn’t depart now, but…Master Dialga heavily encourages it.”

“Of course.” Eliana allowed Lu to steer her off the beach, taking a shortcut towards the coastal forest that would branch off into the surrounding areas.

“I suppose Jirachi really came through, huh?” Lu mused after a long duration of silence.

“I just didn’t think it would involve such high stakes,” Eliana sighed. “Again.”

“It saves us from the deliberation, if nothing else,” he supposed. “I was worried that it would be the sort of decision we might cower away from.”

Eliana frowned, throat tightening. “I didn’t want…” She swallowed roughly. “…we don’t know how far into the future it is. What if—what if you’re not there?”

Lu stopped. Eliana dropped her head, but he kneeled next to her and drew her into a hug. She sank into him with some relief, squeezing her stinging eyes shut. “I will go with you all the way to the Passage,” he assured her, “but there’s no guarantee I’ll be on the other side. That’s just the nature of time.”

“I don’t want to trade you for that,” she whispered tightly. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t, even if I’m not there, but...something tells me we can’t be parted for very long. Perhaps that’s silly, but…you’ve taught me how to trust my gut.” He pulled back enough to gaze fondly down at her. “I’ve had the privilege of calling you my partner for this long. I could ask for nothing else.”

Eliana wanted to protest. She had found safety here in the past, with Lu, and she had no idea what lay in wait across the Passage. All she knew is that it would be different, but…

“Consider it another exploration,” Lu said, distracting her from the spiral she was in danger of descending into. “I don’t think Dialga would be sending you back if it were dangerous—he owes you too much for that. You’re the most capable person I know, and if anyone could handle it, I know you can. And if I’m able, I will continue to be there for you.”

She drew in a deep, shaky breath. She wanted so badly to find Grovyle again, but she didn’t want to exchange him for Lu. There was so much uncertainty surrounding the sudden reality of her being intended to return, but…maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. She would just have to deal with any problems that might arise when she got there.

“We would need to tell Wigglytuff and the others,” she said.

“I’m sure they will understand,” he replied. “Although Chatot may not be happy about it.”

“Are you sure you’d be okay by yourself?” she asked softly. “What about our team?”

“I’ve got the Guild,” he pointed out, “and I’m sure you’ve noticed that our types of jobs have been getting fewer and farther between, so maybe I could start looking into doing something else. I don’t know yet. I can handle myself most of the time, but if I needed help I could ask one of the apprentices.”

“…I would miss you,” she murmured.

“I will miss you, too,” he returned, “dearly. But I think this is for the best.”

“I know.” She reached up and squeezed him as best as she was able. “Thank you, Lu. For everything.”

“Save the goodbyes for later,” he chuckled, although she noticed that his voice had thickened with emotion he was concealing for her sake. “…But time is a funny thing. Maybe we should just say, ‘see you later’ instead.”

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