In PIDW, Airplane had taken inspiration from Steven Universe and Land of the Lustrous and added gem people into the novel, near to the end of the novel so there wasn't much to learn about them- merely a throwaway paragraph of their creation hidden in 5 chapters of papapa.
So Shen Yuan was surprised when he wakes up with bubble-like green crystal skin and copper seeping from his 'skin'.
『••✎••』
Shen Yuan groaned as he blearily opened his eyes and pushed himself up from the silky bed he was laying on. He sat there for a few moments, sleep clouding his head in a pleasant cotton feeling from a good nights sleep-
wait a minute...
DIDN'T HE DIE?!?!
Hands fly up from where they were fisted in blankets to his throat- he was sure he had been choking on a too-big piece of steamed bun while raging about the final chapter of that damned novel!
CLINK
Clink? Shen Yuan pulled his hands from his throat at the sound, only to see his hands no longer had their typical sickly pale tone, nor the fleshy feel they were supposed to have.
No, instead his hands were a deep green in colour, with bubble-like bands of other shades of green while also having a copper colour in some of the bands. It wasn't just his hands either, it was all the way up his arms and his entire body from what he could tell from a single glance over-
wait- why is he build like a ken doll-
The door to the room creaks open before Shen Yuan's thoughts could run off on their own, revealing an old man [in the sense that anyone above 45 was old in Shen Yuan's eyes as a 19 year old] and a person.... that he honestly couldn't tell the gender of.
"Ah, you're awake." The person spoke first, a clipboard in their hands as they stepped into the room with the old man, walking over to Shen Yuan and pulling out a stool from under the bed. "Good morning, my name is Moisannite. You are in the medical compound of the Lustrous Sect."
As the person spoke, they busied themself by reaching into a desk drawer by the bed and pulling out what looked to be a tin, kind of like the foundations that his meimei used to put on for her make up. Moisannite soon started brushing whatever was in the tin onto his arms, a pigment sticking to his body and covering him with a pale skin-like colour.
The old man who had also entered the room had sat himself down on the opposite side of the bed. Shen Yuan's attention was brought to him when he started speaking, "You must be very confused." He sounded kind, so he probably wasn't some xianxia villain or something like that.
"Let's start from the beginning, shall we?"
『••✎••』
Might add more to this at some point in the future, who knows.
Her skin was ice cold under my fingertips, but the feeling of her fangs plunging into my neck brought a warmth into my body like no other.
It was a ritual at this point. As the sun fell, my dear would rise and order the chef’s special.
Premium O Negative blood, fresh from the source.
It had been raining the night we met, the pitter patter etched into my mind along with every other detail.
She looked like a stray dog who hadn’t eaten in days, hair matted and a pale face caked in dried gore. A metal rod was sticking out just below her heart with a trio of corpses at her feet. A pitiful but enthralling sight like a train wreck you couldn’t look away from.
I stood there for what felt like eternity just staring until she finally noticed me. Her eyes were wild, but exhausted. What little life was left in her body was used to weakly claw the air in my direction.
Monster she was, and yet before me she was vulnerable. I could’ve finished her off myself with little effort, but what’s the point in kicking a dog when it’s down and out?
I slowly walked up to her, and kneeled down. “Are you hungry?” I asked softly.
All the woman could do was nod. I leaned forward, and tilted my head to the side.
“Go on, get your fill,” I tell her.
There’s a moment of hesitation as we locked eyes. Fear or gratitude, I couldn’t tell before she bites into me. It’s meek at first, but with each drop of blood she takes it becomes more vigorous.
Painful sure, but there was a kind of bliss to it. The more it hurt, the better it felt.
And that’s how we began.
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Her feet pounded against the floors as she ran, sending echoes down the halls. Her lungs heaved with each breath she took, but no matter the effort, she still felt as though she was suffocating. Her frantic eyes scanned the walls, taking in each number beside the doors.
Where? Where? Where? Her panicked mind raced, unable to think clearly. Where is she? The voice in her head rose with each wrong room number.
Coming to a T, she looked at the sign in an attempt to figure out which way to go, but it might as well have been in another language. It didn’t make any sense.
“Eretria!” A voice called her name, but she couldn’t place who it belonged to. Turning, she saw Wil sitting in a chair to her right.
There, she thought desperately and walked with purpose toward the room she’d been after. She needed to see her. She needed to know she was okay. She needed to hold her hand and see her smile.
She reached for the handle, but a hand gripped her wrist. “Eretria.”
She looked to Wil. Why are his eyes so... sad? He looked exhausted. There were a few cuts and bruises on the skin exposed, but other than that, he looked okay. “Is something wrong?” She asked, fearing the question. Why wasn’t he letting her go in?
“No,” he said, and she felt relief flood her system, “but her uncle is in there right now. They’re talking with the doctor.”
She knew that meant to let them be, but she really needed to see her. Wil’s fingers laced with hers, and he pulled her away before she could force her way in. As he led her away, she looked back at the door longingly. She was just on the other side. She was so close, but so far.
Wil took her to a waiting area. “Wait here,” he said and pointed as if that would keep her in place. The only reason she stayed put was because she couldn’t remember the way back, so she waited. When Wil returned, he handed her a bottle of water. “You should drink something. It might calm your nerves.”
She rolled the cold bottle between her hands. Calm my nerves, she thought. She took a couple sips and sighed as the liquid cooled her insides. She glanced at Wil to see the same sad look on his face. “What is it?” She asked. Wil flinched and avoided her eyes. It was enough to confirm her suspicions. “Wil.”
“She’s okay,” he promised. “She’s a little banged up. Her side of the car had a lot more damage...”
“So she’s okay,” Eretria tried to wrap her mind around it all.
“Yeah...”
There it was. She thought she had imagined it the first time, but the hesitation was there. “What’s wrong?” She asked. Fear settled in her gut as Wil looked away. “I can hear it in your voice. What aren’t you telling me?” His lips formed in a tight line. “Wil.”
“She didn’t remember me,” he blurted. His hands gripped the bottled water, indenting the plastic.
Eretria swallowed, but her throat felt tight. “She didn’t...” She couldn’t say the words. She hoped that she had heard wrong.
“Before her uncle arrived, I was in there with her.” Wil’s voice sounded just as pained as she felt. “She woke up, but she didn’t recognize me. I let her uncle know when he came and he called for the doctor. I don’t know what will happen if you see her.”
She understood then. Wil had waited for her to arrive because he wanted to warn her. There was a possibility that she wouldn’t be remembered. “She might forget me...” It hurt to even think about it. How would it go? What if she really didn’t remember? Would they have to restart? Would it still work?
“Do you want me to go with you?” Wil asked, and Eretria nodded.
She suddenly felt numb. She let Wil lead her back to the room. They sat in the chairs outside. Glancing at the door, she wondered when someone would emerge. It felt like an eternity, but it finally opened to reveal a doctor hurrying off without sparing them a glance. Then he emerged - Ander.
He looked at them. There wasn’t much kindness there, especially when Eretria was involved, but he put up with them. He gave Eretria a long stare before speaking. “We don’t know the extent of her memory loss,” he explained. “The doctor wants to do a few more tests, but we don’t know when or if the memories she’s missing will return.”
“Does she remember you?” Wil asked, and Ander nodded. At least she remembers someone, Eretria thought hopefully. “Can we see her?”
Ander stared at Eretria again. “I don’t know what good it will do,” Eretria stiffened beside Wil, “but you can... just don’t upset her.”
“Of course,” Wil said, standing and pulling up Eretria in the process. “We just want her to know that we’re waiting for her to get better.” Ander nodded. He finally let the wariness touch his face, and turned to the direction of the waiting area. Wil turned to her now. “Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be,” she mumbled, preparing herself for the worst. Wil opened the door, and Eretria stepped in. There she was. “Amberle,” she breathed in relief. Just seeing her awake and alive lifted her spirits. She was bandaged and bruised like Wil and her arm was in a sling, but she was alive. “You’re okay,” she said, forgetting the talk she’d had with Wil already.
She watched as Amberle’s brow furrowed and her lips pouted in confusion. “Do I... know you...?” She asked warily.
And Eretria’s world came crashing down around her. She had been forgotten. She was no more than a stranger to Amberle now, and it hurt more than she was willing to admit.
Josie gets revenge for Valerie. Archie gets to see Josie.
It was late at night when Archie’s phone rang.
He groaned sleepily as he woke, he didn’t know what time it was exactly but he must’ve fallen asleep writing music. His room was dark, and in the back of his mind, the memories of the day buzzed.
It had been a long, crazy, intense day. He tried to infiltrate the Blossoms to find clues, but ended up kissing Cheryl. What an idiot move, Archie. He thought to himself. And it lead to Valerie crying and dumping him. He tried to comfort her, but she told him to leave her alone, and so he did. Even if it made him feel worse.
He was exhausted to the very limit.
It was his fault though. He knew it. He shouldn’t have kissed Cheryl. Maybe he shouldn’t even have started something with Valerie as quickly as he did. Or maybe he was just a douche meant to hurt all the people he cared about? What was wrong with him?
He shook his head - a headache starting up as he tried to get a hold of his spiraling thoughts. He needed water. Yet the phone kept ringing at his ear, and he grabbed it - it was on the floor, probably fell there from his pocket while he slept.
“Hello?” He called huskily, his voice still filled with sleep.
“Archie, I give you twenty minutes to get your ass to Pop’s.” The smooth, high-pitched, stern, yet adorable voice, surprised him. Was he still sleeping?
“Josie?” He asked confused, running a hand through his hair.
“Get. Your. Ass. To. Pop’s.” Then before he could reply she dropped the call. He was left speechless. After a moment of bewilderment and curiosity as to how Josie got his number, and what it was she wanted, he decided he might as well go and figure it out. He quickly changed his shirt and put on some deodorant, and found himself looking at his mirror and fixing his hair, before he stopped himself and frowned. What was he doing? Yet he couldn’t help it. He wanted to look good in front of Josie. He did since the moment he saw her. She always held an air of grace and importance - regal like a queen. He felt he had to look his best in her presence. It was a subconscious feeling. Even before he worked up the nerve that day to ask the pussycats if they could help him with his music. Even before he got Cheryl to get Josie to agree to help him. He’s always watched Josie, Valerie and Melody from afar, kind of in awe of them. But then again, so did the rest of the school, so he didn’t think it was that big of a deal.
Then, “Read my glossed lips Justin Gingerlake.” happened and he was further captivated by Josie. And those lips. He quickly made another change of shirt before crawling out of his window to meet the girl he couldn’t quite get out of his mind. She was always lingering at the corner of his thoughts. Though maybe not in the present, he was preoccupied because there were quite a lot of girls on his mind, if he was honest with himself. A lot of feelings he couldn’t quite place. But Josie. There was something about her. Something good. Something intriguing. Something that constantly gravitated him to her. He wanted to know more about her. Everything, maybe? He didn’t know.
All the way to Pop’s he got more and more excited to seeing her.
So when he saw her waiting outside of the diner, wearing a cute black crop-top and blue leggings, his face lit up with a huge grin. A grin that didn’t last long because she was frowning with a passion, instantly marched up to him, and then slapped him. Hard.
“That’s for my girl Valerie.”
He was stunned. His face stung, and his hand went to rub against it. His mouth was open slightly out of surprise, and he was feeling a rush of different emotions, and he was embarrassingly sure one of them was arousal. But that didn’t make sense, or did it? The foremost emotion, however, was confusion and anger, just a bit of anger. As he noticed Josie turn and walk away from him, with her confident stride, he went on that emotion.
“What the hell, Joise!” He finally reacted, calling out to her. Josie had been walking fast, but she stopped just as quickly and turned to him.
“What the hell? What the hell? Let me catch you up Archie, you cheated on one of my best friends! You made her almost quit the pussycats for your personal stage-fright reasons, and then you cheat on her?! This is why I didn’t want her to date your ass.”
“I wasn’t - it wasn’t,” Archie struggled to find the words, he couldn’t defend himself. What he did was wrong. Even if he and Valerie hadn’t clearly painted the terms of their relationship, they were definitely together. They had something, and he ruined it.
“You weren’t what? I don’t understand why you bothered Valerie and brought her into your mess if you knew you wanted Cheryl, you could’ve had Cheryl any time. She’s constantly yapping on about you. I love her, but I have to drone her out when she goes on about you.” Josie said with a roll of her eyes.
“Why do you hate me?” Archie found himself saying. Not sure why that came out, but he felt hurt. She had that effect on him. And Josie surprised him by not replying with a witty remark that put him in his place, but instead stepping closer to him. She stopped when she was right in front of him, her small frame in front of his. Looking up dead in his eyes, as he looked down in hers. Even in this moment, with her giving him a menacing look, with her hands on her hips, he found her cute. So very cute. Beautiful too, her brown eyes reflecting the moonlight. Then she smirked.
“I don’t hate you, Archie Andrews. Hate, is much too strong a word. Hate has a line that borders love. No, I just don’t really care about you.”
Ouch. Did she catch him wince? Whether she did or didn’t, she went on,
“And I don’t want you anywhere near my friends again. Or at least ‘til you get your shit together. Got it?”
He nodded slowly and swallowed deeply. There was a tension in the air that he didn’t want to step away from.
“Whatever you want, Josie.” He found himself saying, and he found himself saying it with a fervor he didn’t know he had. He truly meant it. And it seems he caught her off guard too, because he noticed a reaction from her he wasn’t expecting, a moment of vulnerability, she looked surprised. Shocked. Happy? Touched? But it was gone as soon as it arrived, and she held a smile of accomplishment.
“Good.” She told him, and patted his chest. “I’ll see you tomorrow!” And with that she was gone. He watched her leave until he felt it would be weird and then started going home.
There were a lot of things he wasn’t sure of, a lot of feelings he had to sort through, he needed to find a way to properly and fully apologize to Valerie and make sure she knows that she was perfect, and he was just an idiot. He then needed to make sure to put some distance between them to honor Josie’s wishes. He needed to focus on writing his music, and doing the after school job he hated, and even solving the damn murder mystery, and stop getting into situations that left him kissing the wrong girl. He needed to get his shit together.
And with all the things that confused him about his life, after that night, after that moment, one thing became crystal clear,
Josephine Mccoy had a hold on him.
And he wanted to know what it was like to have a hold on her too. He instantly saved the number that called him on his phone, he'd have to start by asking her how and why she got his number.
I think I’m sort of doing a WIP dump. Here’s the first of probably like, a couple.
“Well, I hope it’s to your mum to tell her you’ll be eighteen months late for your dinner.” The detective sneered down at Eggsy, knowing full well the coast of Eggsy’s silence.
Eggsy knew it as well. He was up shit creek with no one to turn to. He weren’t no snitch and he’d been the one to steal the car any way. His mates would check in on his mum, Dean might even be in a better mood for a while. Eggsy didn’t doubt the bastard would be laughing his arse off when he heard about Eggsy’s stretch.
He picked up the phone and called his mum. She cried just like he knew she would. Scolded him for stealing Rotti’s car, begged him to grass up his friends, but in the end, Eggsy told her he loved her and hung up.
He’d already been booked, so he only had a short wait in the holding cell before a short wait in the holding cell before the transfer order came in. Eggsy was taken, stripped down, and stuffed into a grey jumpsuit, and that was it. He was an inmate at Bristol Penitentiary and would be for roughly the next year and a half.
“Where are we putting him?” He heard one guard ask another. They were walking behind Eggsy as he carried a stiff blanket, a pillow, and a cheap plastic toothbrush through the cellblock.
“With Hart.” The other replied with an indecipherable tone.
“Hart?”
Eggsy frowned but didn’t say anything. There were all sorts in the prison, it’d be just his lick if they put him with some violent psycho.
This wasn’t Eggsy’s first stint, even though it was going to be the longest. Why shouldn’t it also be his first time with a truly dangerous cellmate?
They led with gruff orders, ‘left here,’ ‘up there,’ and such until they were out of the block with vars and were passing heavy doors with plexiglass windows.
He glanced at each door skeptically. Heavy doors meant a newer part of the prison. He would have thought they’d shove him with the ‘troubled youth’ for his stay. Not that he was complaining, yet. When he stayed in Leeds he heard good things about new cellblocks. They were cleaner, more comfortable—Eggsy glared at the door he was ordered to stop at—There had to be a catch.
They opened the door for him, as his hands were full, and Eggsy blinked at the state of the room.
It was a little bigger than he expected, and smelled so much better than the normal detergent and body smell. It was a pleasant, clean, and subtly spicy, where as his last cell smelled more like old hot sauce and bleach. There were two cots on opposite sides of the room, bolted down to the floor in the upper corners. Between them was a barred window, and underneath were two shelves on the wall, and two chairs. Eggsy didn’t notice the small tables at the end of the beds, because of the occupant.
The right side of the room was claimed, with several books on the shelf, bedding on the cot (which looked significantly nicer than what Eggsy was holding) and finally, most obviously, the older man sitting in the right chair.
“Mr. Hart,” said one of the guards. “Got your new cellmate.”
Hart glanced up briefly, but quickly returned to reading the book in his hands. The guards left without another word, not even bothering to close the door behind them.
Eggsy fought the urge to clear his throat. He went silently to his side of the room and began to make his bed. He watched his cellmate warily out of the corner of his eye.
If Eggsy hadn’t been in prison, he’d assume he was looking at some kind of duke or something. Hart sat gracefully in his chair, legs crossed and wearing his jumpsuit like it was high fashion. He seemed completely unperturbed that Eggsy was there.
Eggsy looked away, posh tosser was probably some kind of paedo.
He had just finished making his bed when he heard the turn of a page. Then Hart addressed him. “I apologize, I wanted to finish the chapter before I got distracted again.”
Eggsy looked at him. Hart was standing, taller than Eggsy with broad shoulders and a lean build that made him look a bit younger than Eggsy’s original guess. The air around him had changed to polite and welcoming. It took about three more seconds before it really sank in that Eggsy was sharing his cell with an extremely attractive man.
He looked down and muttered, “S’alright bruv, been to prison before.” He knew the drill.
But Hart just stepped closer and offered his hand. “Harry,” He said, still pleasant as you please. “Harry Hart.”
Eggsy shook it, noticing the distinct softness of it as well as the size. Not much physical labor, but his knuckles looked rough and scarred. “Eggsy.”
“A pleasure,” Harry glanced around the room wryly. “Circumstances notwithstanding.”
It was funny, but Eggsy only managed a tight smile before Harry went back to his book. The friendliness was nice, he supposed, but he didn’t trust it for a second.
He turned back to his bed and sighed inwardly at the scratchy material. He rarely got money in his account for the cantina, and considering why he got thrown in there, he doubted Dean would be feeling generous. No hope for a nicer blanket like Harry’s then. Eggsy flopped onto his bed with resignation.
fullmetal alchemist: brotherhood | alternate!roy/alternate!ed, pre-slash roy/ed | random
“I’m a general? Seriously?”
The man who very much resembled the Fire Alchemist nodded fervently at said alchemist’s question and smiled smugly, “well, technically, I am, but since we seem to be the same person…”
Once a Mustang, always a Mustang, Ed thought darkly as the two look-alikes kept praising each other—or more likely, Roy Mustang, the Colonel, the one from this universe, who kept admiring his counterpart, General Mustang, the one from the other universe, for his accomplishments. Which the Colonel ridiculously considered as his accomplishments as well.
Ed resisted the urge to smash his head to the nearest wall. How did the situation get this bad?
He recalled an hour ago, when he was trying a new alchemy circle he invented himself—in hope to find a new, much cooler technique—when he accidentally brought two people out of nowhere. These two people, a man and a girl, were at first unconscious, but the man regained his consciousness after a few minutes.
He had thought that the man was familiar—the dark hair, eyes, broad shoulders and straight posture reminded him of someone he despised very much.
But it was when he mentioned his name that all hell broke loose.
Ed’s first instinct was to call Mustang’s office, for it may be a not funny prank the Colonel might be pulling, but when said Colonel answered his call, he didn’t know what to think. He interrogated the man and found out that he was, no matter how much Ed wanted to doubt that, from another world.
Bringing people from another world was already bad, but to make the situation worse, this man was Roy Mustang. Roy Mustang from another world. General Roy Mustang from another world.
When the real Roy Mustang—the Colonel he had known all along—arrived at the scene and started talking with his alternate twin, Ed decided that he had to find a way to go to another world, because one Mustang for this world is bad enough. No world needs another Mustang.
-
“Would you please stop gushing at how cool you are and start thinking about how to get you back?!” Ed finally snapped after the General proudly told a half-hour long story on how he became a hero in a war without killing a single life. The General, for the first time, turn to Ed, and his eyes suddenly widened in surprise.
“Do you happen to be related to Edward Elric?” He asked, tapping his chin.
Feeling a mixture of annoyance and confusion, Ed replied, “that would be me.” He then added as if it was an afterthought, ”why?”
Much to Ed’s irritation, a smirk formed on the General’s face. He turned to his counterpart. “This may sound rude, but could you give us a place to stay for a while? It seems that my… companion wouldn’t wake up anytime soon.”
The two other alchemists reflexively turned to the woman who also came from another world. When General Mustang regained his consciousness, the first thing he did was taking the girl and laid her on the nearest tree, letting her sleep, her golden hair fell to her side that it was hard to see her face.
Ed had wanted to care less about the General and let him starve on the street, but the girl’s presence complicated the matter. General Mustang might be irritating, but the girl was reason enough to help the two of them.
The Colonel, unsurprisingly, beamed. “Of course! Stay as long as you want!”
Throwing daggers at Colonel Mustang with his eyes, Ed approached the sleeping girl, along with the General, as his minds started to wander. Who would the girl this Mustang be with? One of his girlfriends? But she seems too, well, young to be his girlfriend—
His mind paused.
—my lips, that was the first thing that came into his mind when he finally saw her from close distance. My nose. My hair. My cheeks. He looked at her, and saw himself sleeping. Me. And as his mind tried to assemble the pieces together, he could hear General Mustang said beside him, “Oh, by the way, I haven’t introduced us properly… I am, as you know, General Roy Mustang.
“And this is my girlfriend, Edward Elric.”
All hell broke loose.
Edward Elric: Full Metal Alchemist, prodigy, State Alchemist, reluctant subordinate of one Bastard Colonel, and hell’s favorite plaything.
