#( soBBING WHY OPAL WHY )

[hopepetal]

Boatem knights AU part eight! Pog!

Masterlist

@applestruda and @stiffyck! Things are ramping up!!

A long day, followed by an even longer night, passed. 

After being patched up and fed, Grian’s condition had greatly improved. Scar was just grateful they caught whatever sickness he had early on, and that Marc had been… generous enough to give them supplies. Despite his fever going down and his lucidity returning, Grian was still weak and paler than usual. 

Their hands were tied behind their backs again, but Grian’s wings had been left free, so one was currently wrapped around Scar. The other wing stayed close to Grian, the bandages wrapping around it keeping it from moving fully. The two knights sat in silence for a while, listening to the sound of the wheels against the road and the horse whinnying. 

Scar broke the silence. “I’m sorry.” He gazed down at the floorboards of the wagon, sighing heavily. “For getting you into this mess, y’know?”

“Scar…” Grian trailed off, not knowing what to say. He merely shook his head, looking away. What could he say to someone who fully believed they were at fault for… all this?

Another moment of silence passed, before Scar coughed quietly. “How’s your injury doing?” He quickly changed the topic, plastering a smile on his face.

With a slightly amused, mostly exasperated sigh, Grian smiled back. “Better. So…” He began, pressing his shoulder against Scar’s, “how did you even get them to help me? From what I heard, they only wanted you.”

Scar shrugged, his grin turning sheepish. “I maaaay have told them that we were soulbound.”

“...Scar-!” Grian’s squawk of horror made the other man giggle. “You can’t just do that! I mean, it’s so obvious that-”

“Shhh. They’ll never know! Trust me, G-man. It’ll be alright.” Scar bumped his shoulder against Grian’s just as the wagon stopped once more. “Oh, joy.”  He turned to look at Grian, his expression unreadable. “Well, whatever qualms you have with the whole soulbound business, you'll have to put aside. Think you can lie well?”

Grian nodded, his expression darkening. “I'll have to.”

The familiar sound of footsteps drew nearer. Scar leaned back with a sigh, feeling Grian's wing withdraw to fold behind him. At least they had kept the hooded cloaks from last time, so they wouldn't have to struggle to get into them again were they necessary. It was also good for Grian to have some form of covering for his torso other than bandages, which Scar absolutely planned on teasing him later for. Once they got out of this sticky situation, of course.

The wagon cover was once again pulled back, Marc whistling a cheerful tune while smiling down at them. “Good morning, lovebirds,” he cooed in a tone that made Scar feel positively nauseous. Great, he was a creep on top of being an absolute pain in the- “Get out.” Marc stepped back, allowing Scar to carefully hop out of the wagon before Grian. 

Scar noticed how Grian stumbled when he hit the ground, his legs trembling as he straightened. Clearly the avian hadn’t fully recovered just yet, which was understandable but made their (as of right now, hypothetical) plan to escape a tad bit more difficult. He made sure to stay beside Grian as Marc ushered them down an overgrown forest path, his shoulder brushing against Grian’s.

After what felt like an hour in the relative quiet of the woods, Marc pushed them through a thick growth of underbrush and trees into a clearing. There, two people stood, armored and with masks covering the bottom half of their faces. At the sight of Marc and the two knights, one drew their sword while the other stepped forward.

“We only wanted the vex.” The voice of the one who stepped forward was higher pitched, but smooth and light. Kind of like Pearl’s, except not at all like Pearl’s. “There was no need to bring us a little birdie as well.”

Marc shrugged, putting a hand on Scar and Grian’s shoulders before shoving them forward. “They’re soulbound. I’m sure you know how that is, Opal.”

Opal’s eyes briefly flicked over to their partner before they looked away. “...yeah. Fine, then. Change of plans, we’ll take ‘em both. You good with that, Fern?”

With a sigh, Fern sheathed her sword. “Yeah. Would’ve been nice to have a bit of a warning, though. Guess we can’t expect anything better from a little-”

Marc groaned loudly, interrupting Fern. “Yeah, yeah, you’re still sore over that one time. Whatever. Take them and go, I’m done with this stupid job.” Turning, he began to walk away. “Good luck, you two!” he called back, “you’ll need it.”

And with that, Marc was gone.

“I hope he trips and breaks his nose,” Grian muttered, earning a soft chuckle from Scar. “Absolutely despicable. We are not lovebirds. You’re not even a bird!”

Scar had to laugh at that, nodding. “True, true. I am indeed not a bird. Very astute observation, my good man.”

Grian knocked his shoulder against Scar’s, smirking. “Oh, shut up.”

A heaving sigh drew their attention back to Fern and Opal, the sound having come from the former of the two. “He was right, this job sucks. Come on you two.” She pulled her sword again, swinging it leisurely as she walked around to be behind them. “Let’s go. Chop chop.” She snorted. “Not really, though.”

“Not unless you piss us off,” Opal added under her breath. 

Scar forced a smile, clenching his hands into fists and feeling how his nails began to sharpen into vex claws. They pricked into his skin until they drew blood, reminding Scar of the damage he could do. Of why he and Grian were in this situation in the first place. “That won’t happen, don’t you worry!” he said, trying to sound as cheerful as possible.

“Right, then!” Fern poked Grian in the back with her sword, causing him to squawk and jump forward. “Onwards!”

And as they started moving through the forest once more, Grian looked over at Scar and realized that his eyes had started to dimly glow.

The sound of the horses trotting through the forest was far too loud, in Mumbo’s opinion. Although it wasn’t exactly a stealth mission, he had been far too jumpy during the entire trip to stop worrying about things now. Already his mind was pouring over the various design tweaks he could make to the horseshoes to make them more silent, to the bridle and the reins, to-

They were nearly at the spot Pearl had marked down on the map now. Mambo would know, he had been carefully- obsessively, almost- following along with their journey on the map nearly the whole way there. His focus on the map had nearly caused an accident on multiple occasions. But it hadn’t, so Mumbo had kept his gaze glued to the map.

He faintly realized Impulse was calling his name, turning over to look at the other knight as he dismounted his horse. “Mumbo. I think I saw something up ahead, so I’m just going to check it out, alright?”

Mambo hummed in acknowledgment, tracing a finger up the map following the path they had been taking. He was hardly even paying attention until he heard a loud bark, Impulse shriek, and the sound of someone (likely Impulse) being knocked over by a very large… 

…Tilly?

Mambo scrambled down from his horse, shoving the map inside his bag as he grabbed the reins of both his horse and Impulse’s and led them closer to where the man lay on the ground, spluttering as he got his face licked by the very familiar animal. Laughter erupted from the trees, and Pearl stepped into view, pushing her hood down so that her face was visible. “Oh, you should’ve seen the look on your face!” she cackled, and Mumbo had to start laughing as well.

Impulse grumbled, shoving Tilly (gently, of course) off of him and rolling over so he could push himself back onto his feet. “Can’t you control her?” he muttered, wiping his face. “I am covered in dog slobber now.”

Pearl smiled, nodding. “Yep. And she is not a dog! She is a wild, ferocious wolf!” Whistling sharply, she called Tilly to her side, kneeling and scratching behind her ears. “Who’s a good wittle wolf? Who’s my ferocious wittle wolfykins? You are! Yes, you are!”

Mumbo just kept laughing. Impulse glared at him for a moment before turning back to Pearl. “She is a lapdog, for goodness sakes. Oh my- y’know what? Nevermind.” Taking a moment to let everyone calm down, Mumbo having to catch his breath after laughing so hard, Impulse continued. “So. Pearl. Give us the rundown. What’s going on?”

Pearl sobered up quickly, expression darkening. She stood, though one hand remained on Tilly’s head, lightly stroking her ears. “Right, then. Let’s get to it.” She took a deep breath. “I found one of the mercenaries that jumped Grian and Scar. The archer, I think. I… asked a few questions. Just a few! And got some answers.” Noticing Mumbo and Impulse’s concerned looks, she frowned. “I let them go after! Against my better judgment, mind you,” she added on lowly. “After that, I was able to track Grian and Scar to a village- I think you passed it on the way here?”

Impulse nodded. “Yeah. Something was off about that place. Mumbo and I made sure to skirt around it. Can never be too careful, y’know?”

Pearl hummed in agreement. “Good. Well, after I saw them at the village, it was really only a matter of guessing where they’d go and picking a spot somewhat close to that location. Then I sent the note, and the rest is history!” She paused. “Hopefully good history. For us, I mean. It would kind of suck if we failed. Which! We will not.”

Mumbo blinked, his face the picture of disbelief. “So this was all just… a guessing game? And it worked?” He didn’t know whether to be horrified or impressed. With Pearl, it was always a 50/50 chance of either emotion.

Pearl grinned. “You know it! It worked surprisingly well, actually. Grian and Scar should be near us. They were handed off to two others, armored and everything. Hence why I didn’t take them on right then and there. I probably would have won against them, but Grian and Scar would be defenseless and I honestly doubt they’d be honorable.” She shrugged. “Apparently they lied about being soulbound to stick together. Which was probably Scar’s idea, he’s clever like that.”

“Of course they did,” Mumbo and Impulse spoke at the exact same time, exchanging glances with a smile as they did so.

Pearl thought for a moment, her hand on Tilly’s head drifting down to scratch under her chin. “Grian was also injured, and it looked like he was sick, but I guess they got some supplies when they stopped by the village because he’s definitely a lot better today. And Scar…” she trailed off, hesitating. “...something’s wrong. He’s not doing so hot himself. His hair, the ends of it at least, are just constantly white. I noticed he was trembling… probably a result of suppressing his vex magic. Gosh- I can’t imagine the pain he’s in.” Her voice wavered. She knew well the horrors that came from suppressing one’s magic.

“Well then.” Impulse’s gaze hardened as a hand drifted to the hilt of his sword. “We’ll just have to get them both out as soon as possible.”

“Agreed.” Pearl pulled out a map, kneeling down in the grass and spreading it out. Mumbo crouched next to her, examining the marked spots carefully before pulling out his own map and marking the same places. “I mapped out the route they’re taking and planned an ambush spot.” She tapped the spot on the map twice before rolling it back up and stuffing it back into her small bag. “We’ll attack tonight.”

And for a moment, her eyes seem to shine with a purple hue. “Let's show those bastards that they messed with the wrong knights.”

[ca1tlynsgf]

pitfighter!vi after a breakup with you

warnings: angst, descriptions of injuries, substance abuse

an: i just farted this shit out idek if it’s good not gonna proof read

——————————————————————————

the bottles seem to keep falling empty out of her hands and rolling onto the rotted wood of her bedroom floor, clanking into each other as vi downs them one by one. it’s been two weeks, fourteen goddamn days since she saw your tear-stained face, cursing at her, “i never want to see you again!” as you left her standing there in the cold, dark street. fourteen days.

in these days, vi has been nothing but drunk and bloody. she upped her fights to three matches a night, four if she’s high enough. her body aches from the amount of trauma it’s been through; a few broken ribs, knuckles bloody and raw almost to the bone, her left eye greenish-blue and slightly swollen.

nothing really hurts though, as long as she keeps putting the bottle to her lips—

“vi?” your voice called out, low and soft in her darkened bedroom. the light from the moon shined onto the floorboards and clutter. vi sat, knees bent and hands resting on them, back against the few cushions she called a “bed.” she didn’t really remember how she ended up on the floor, but she also didn’t even know what day or time it was, either.

she blinked a few times, seeing an outline of a body in the doorway.

she had to be hallucinating. it was the alcohol, it was… no way in hell you would show up here, how did you even get in? how did you find her? how in the fucking world did you-

“violet, what did you do…” your face came into the light, your eyes bore right into vi’s. she tightly shut hers and shook her head, trying to get you out of her mind.

warm hands cupped her face. you knelt down to be face level with her, your thumbs caressed her makeup-stained cheeks. “vi?” that little crease in between your eyebrows that vi loved so much was prominent as you worriedly surveyed the wounds and injuries all over her body.

“are you real?” vi’s voice was coarse, it didn’t even really sound like her. it was like she was talking through water, outside of her body.

you felt tears welling up in your eyes as you heard the broken woman sitting slumped in front of you. “yes, yes i’m real.. i’m here.”

vi’s opal eyes looked into yours, a certain yearn and heartbreak in them.

“i’m so sorry..” she slurred her words, “i fucked up so bad, y/n. you were the best thing that ever happened to me, and i destroyed it just like everything else.” her head hung low on her shoulders as she looked to the floor, hiding her face in her blackened-pink hair. “you loved me in a way no one ever had, saw through all my bullshit. you-you even fucking showed up right here, right now, after all of the shit i yelled at you.. all the things i did….” a sob racked through her body. she was tipping over, the weight on her shoulders becoming too much, and you found yourself catching her with your body. vi clung onto you, wrapping her strong bandaged arms around your lower waist as she buried her head into your stomach. you stayed on your knees, making you just a little taller than her.

vi broke in your arms. she (tried) to hold it in these past couple weeks, not allowed herself to think too much or be alone for too long. of fucking course, as soon as you come in, all of it comes back to her. (it doesn’t help that’s she’s incredibly drunk or how tired she is, either)

“you came back, why did you come back?” vi’s voice was shaking as the inky tears stained your shirt, causing your heart to break even more for the girl in your arms.

“loris came to me, told me you were.. you weren’t well. you’re doing three fights a night, vi? why the hell would you do that, huh?” your fingers gently caressed her head, holding her broken body to your chest.

when vi didn’t answer, you carefully lifted her head. her eyes were closed, eyebrows furrowed.

had she fallen asleep in her drunken state?

“violet, baby, wake up” you stroked her cheeks, but she was out like a light.

you helped her get into her bed, took off her shoes and carefully wiped off her makeup with a wet wash cloth from her dirty sink. she didn’t stir once, not until you got up from her to leave. her hand softly grabbed onto your forearm, and she slurred something that sounded like “stay with me” but you weren’t completely sure.

——————————————————————————

MY SHAYLAA😭😭😭😭🚬😪

[theother-victoria]

all hearts as one beneath the sun

SYNOPSIS: before kakavasha dissolves into the nihility, there is one hope he has to let go of. may you meet again in a kinder world and under a warm sun.

CHARACTERS: kakavasha, aventurine, dr ratio, aventurine's family, sunday

TAGS: angst, no comfort, established relationship, mentions of suicide, 4k+ wc

TAGLIST: @mitsvriii, @harque, @hazyue, @gabile18, @khoncore, @moineauz

NOTES: sobbed to "had I not seen the sun" the entire time I was writing this I love making myself cry w my own work

special thanks to @akutasoda, @tragedy-of-commons, and @https-sourlimes for proofreading this! love u all <33

link to the playlist

Aventurine was mildly surprised when he received word that he would be handling the Penacony mission. Why him, of all the Ten Stonehearts? Surely someone more capable such as Opal would be trusted with a mission of this caliber. 

He only realized why when he pried further into the details. 

Penacony was a death trap. With so many powerful and important people gathered in one place, one wrong move on his part would spell his end.

He chuckles sardonically. Figures. They’re sending their most suicidal employee out for a suicide mission.

As if to rub the situation into his face, he finds out they’re pairing him with Dr. Ratio. What purpose is he supposed to serve, suicide prevention? Too little, too late, in his opinion. 

The doctor doesn’t look too thrilled about the fact either. It makes Aventurine feel somewhat better about this whole situation. 

“You’d best get your affairs settled before we leave, gambler. The odds that you make it back alive from this mission aren’t as high as you’d hope they’d be.”

“Ooh, well I do like the sound of that.”

A glare sent his way makes Aventurine roll his eyes, but he shuts up anyway. Plans are made and discussed for what role each of them will be playing before it’s time to leave. 

“Well then, I look forward to working with you in Penacony, Doctor.”

“Just don’t act like a complete idiot and we’ll be fine.”

The two men head their separate ways. Ratio’s advice to settle his affairs lingers in his mind, though. That means there’s a will he has to sign, assets he has to distribute, funeral arrangements to be made, and more. Of course, most, if not all of it, will be going toward you. You’d be set for the rest of your life, never having to work a day again if you so chose. 

He heaves a sigh. Ah, it’s all so tedious. It was all so much easier before you came along. He had no will to worry about. He’d toss caution to the wind every mission and wind up sorely disappointed when he returned, still alive. If he did end up dying, his assets would end up being pawned off and most likely make their way back to the IPC somehow. So what even was the point then?

With all that being said, he didn’t mind putting in all that extra work for your peace of mind and so you’d continue to benefit, even after his death. 

Still, the stakes this time around are higher, and he has you to consider now before placing his bets. One wrong move and you’d be left without someone to welcome home. And then there’s the consideration of whether he’d be willing to die when the moment came. Sure, he’d attempted several times before but they’d all failed. Would he be able to take the plunge this time, should the opportunity present itself? 

“Hey, Doc?”

Ratio is about to leave, but the uncharacteristic hint of hesitation in his voice makes him stop and look over his shoulder.

“... How can you tell if you’ve lived a life worth living?”

Ratio stares at the blonde in silence in disbelief over what he’s hearing. Aventurine chuckles, trying to dispel the awkwardness that’s settled in the air.

“No answer? Never mind-”

“That answer will vary from person to person. However, if you were to ask me personally…”

The doctor’s ruby eyes flit over Aventurine’s frame, narrowing in contemplation- and perhaps a hint of resignation. 

“Ask yourself this question: can you die today without any regrets?”

“Can I die today without any regrets?” Doctor, what were you thinking when you posed that rhetorical question on me? Obviously the answer would be no!

Expensive leather shoes click against stone as Aventurine hurriedly makes his way through the Dreamscape. The weight of having mere hours left to live looms above his head like an anvil, leaving him scrambling to figure out how to cheat death- not for the hope of living to see another day, but so he can carry out his mission. 

When confronted with death, even a suicidal man will cling to the urge to live for one reason or another. 

He’s hardly paying attention to where he’s going, muttering out half-hearted apologies to those he bumps into as he stumbles through the Dreamscape before he ends up in a secluded area. The kaleidoscopic iridescence in the corners of his vision makes him stumble and he audibly groans when a searing pain flashes through his temples, the Harmony’s brand on his mind assailing him again. 

Dammit… am I really at the end of the line now? And before I could do anything meaningful either…

He hears the sound of a… child humming some distance away? That’s strange, there’s no one else here. 

“Mister, are you lost too?”

That voice. 

He turns around slowly, as if that would change anything. Aventurine’s eyes dart across the boy standing before him, with rags for clothes and scraped knees. The child in front of him is everything he is not- or rather, what he was, but is no longer. Optimistic, with bright shining eyes. Hope still exists for him. 

Those eyes. Oh, it’s himself. 

Aventurine thinks he’s about to be sick. 

“Woah, you have such pretty eyes! Can I call you Mr. Pretty Eyes?”

Aventurine stiffly nods. 

“Sure. Call me whatever you want, kid. What’s your name?”

“It’s Kakavasha. Nice to meet you!”

And that’s the final nail in the coffin confirming his suspicions. 

Kakavasha looks around nervously.

“I was searching for my family, but I got lost. This place is so much bigger than home… Mister, do you think you could help me find them?”

Aventurine shakily extends a trembling hand out.

“Of course. Lead the way. How about you hold onto my hand so you don’t get lost anymore?

Kakavasha latches onto it and begins wandering around, calling out for his parents and big sister. Every unanswered call feels like a punch to the gut but he has a faint flickering of hope that he’ll be able to see them.

“You really love your family, kid,” remarks Aventurine in an attempt to keep some conversation going. 

“Of course! I do!”

Kakavasha pauses in his steps and thinks for a bit, eyes wandering skyward and free hand resting on his chin.

“… Do you have anyone you love, Mr. Pretty Eyes?”

“Yes, I do. Their name is (Name).”

The boy’s eyes light up, sparkling in curiosity.

“Woah, really? What’re they like?”

A light chuckle escapes Aventurine’s lips as he crouches down to Kakavasha’s eye level and ruffles his hair. 

“They’re the best thing to have ever happened to me.”

“Wow, they must be a really amazing person for you to say that…”

“They are. They're incredible.”

I don’t deserve them.

He chuckles and stands back up again, hand reaching for Kakavasha’s. The little boy continues to lead the way, until he suddenly stops and turns. 

“Would you like to meet my family? They’ve been gone for so long I think they went back home. You can introduce (Name) to them as well!”

Panic wells up inside him. Seeing his family? In this state? After all he’s done? No, he can’t. He can’t, he can’t, he can’t. Not under these circumstances!

“Kid, I don’t think-”

“It’s ok if (Name) shows up late. They’re nice people and they’ll understand.”

“No, I-”

“Come on, let’s go! They’re already waiting for us!”

Aventurine feels himself being forcefully pulled under and he instinctively closes his eyes. A blast of hot, sandy air hits him, making him shield himself. When it settles down, he opens his eyes to a familiar sight. Sand stretches as far as the eye can see. There’s minimal vegetation and he can feel the sun beating down on his back already.

Sigonia-IV. He’s returned home. 

Kakavasha eagerly tugs on his sleeve. 

“This is my home! I know it’s not much, but everyone I know and love is here. I think you’ll like it too.”

Still holding onto Aventurine’s hand, Kakvasha begins running toward the horizon. Aventurine, meanwhile, feels numb all over. 

There’s no way this is happening. Is this some sort of cruel prank? What did that chicken-wing boy do this time? But if this is just a cruel prank…

He looks around at the yellow sand stretching as far as the eye can see and the mountains in the distance.

… Then it’s far too realistic. How is this happening? If I filter out the memories of the massacre, then everything is the same as I remembered it. 

“We’re almost there!” calls out Kakavasha. “Just a little longer now!”

Three familiar figures stand in front of a tent some distance away and Aventurine feels his heart seize up in his chest. He’s long forgotten their faces, but he instinctively recognizes them.

Mom. Dad. Big Sis. 

Kakavasha lets go of his hand and sprints toward his family. He leaps into the arms of his big sister, who spins him around giddily while his mother plants kisses over his face and his father holds his tiny hands. 

As he approaches, he realizes they have no faces. Where there are supposed to be eyes, a nose, and a mouth, there is nothing. A blank canvas with dents and ridges where the features are supposed to be greets him and he feels the hairs on the back of his neck rise up in warning. 

The only exception to this is his sister, with her grinning mouth and her long blonde hair billowing in the wind- the only feature he remembers clearly about her. She takes notice of him and tilts her head curiously to the side. 

“Kakavasha, did you br▇ng a f▇▇▇d of ▇urs?”

Her voice comes out scratchy and distorted with only a few syllables recognizable. There’s a sinking feeling in his stomach when he realizes why.

He can’t remember her voice anymore. Or the voices of his parents, for that matter. He’s forgotten what they look like, and now what they sound like. What’s been forgotten can’t be restored. 

“Yeah!” exclaims Kakavasha nestled safely into his sister’s arms now. “Everybody, meet Mr. Pretty Eyes!”

They greet him with friendly waves and scratchy sounds that he thinks are supposed to be words of greeting. He almost chokes on the guilt and regret building up in his throat

“▇▇ look just like ▇▇ Kakavasha over here! ▇▇ ▇▇ ▇▇ ▇▇ his long-lost b▇▇▇▇r or something?” 

Aventurine forces out a laugh as the others join in. 

If only they knew…  

The sun is going down now, and the solar winds that blanket the planet grow harsher. They quickly usher him into the tent, telling him to make himself at home and inviting him to stay for dinner. There’s no way out as far as he can tell, so he obliges.

 It’s smaller than he remembers, he thinks as he ducks to avoid hitting his head. There’s a rudimentary kitchen setup in the back that Kakavasha’s mother is tending to as she begins preparing dinner. Kakavasha hops into his sister’s lap and shakes the sand out of his hair and gets it everywhere, to which she lightly scolds him with a tug on his cheek. 

He takes a seat on the fraying rug in the center and rubs a brightly-colored teal tassel between his fingers. The sand is already starting to seep into his clothes. He feels grains of it in his shoes and it pools onto his pristine white dress pants. Grains of it are nestled deep into the fur collar of his coat from the harsh solar winds outside that even vigorous shaking won’t dislodge.

Kakavasha’s sister smiles at him. It’s a bit unnerving, just seeing a smiling mouth with no other features.

“So, Mr. ▇▇▇ Eyes, w▇at 's your ▇▇▇ ? At least, I’m a▇▇▇ ming Mr. ▇▇▇ Eyes isn’t yo▇▇ r▇l name.”

“It’s Kaka-”

He swallows hard and kicks himself. He’s not Kakavasha. Not anymore.

“It’s… Aventurine.”

The very act of saying that name makes him feel like he’s betraying his family, stabbing them in the back. 

“A▇▇▇▇▇ , huh? What an in▇▇▇ing and pretty name!” remarks his sister. He feels the air rush out his lungs and almost coughs up a sardonic laugh from the sheer irony of it all. First his family, then his language, then his body, and now even his name? Is there anything left that he can truly call his from his culture? 

Thunder distantly rumbles overhead. Kakavasha and his sister peek their heads out curiously of the tent. She gasps excitedly and points to the darkening clouds overhead. 

“Hear that? ▇▇ sign ▇▇ your birthday is ▇▇▇ ▇!” she exclaims as she holds Kakavasha’s hands in hers.“▇▇▇ ▇▇ excited?”

… His birthday? 

Thunder rumbles overhead again and he hears the pitter-patter of raindrops hitting the tent. 

His birthday. The Kakava Festival. 

His heart sinks into his stomach as his family chatters around him. They talk about birthday celebrations and what they’ll do that day, but it’s a muffled mess in his ears. Is it really almost his birthday already? Sigonia-IV followed many beliefs that were independent from the rest of the universe, namely the Aeon belief system, and that also extended to the calendar system. Truth be told, he wasn’t exactly sure what day his birthday was in the Interastral Standard calendar system. He usually just flipped a coin and that was if he even bothered to celebrate, which he hadn’t done in many years. 

Aventurine does some quick estimating and realizes that yes, it’s almost his birthday. But how would he celebrate his birthday in this world, where all was good and he still remembered their faces and voices? 

Aventurine closes his eyes and thinks. His mother would be overjoyed to know that her beloved son finally has a lover now. She’d make him clean the tent from top to bottom in preparation for your arrival, even though the sand would find its way back inside again within a matter of a few hours. His parents would cook up a feast for your arrival while his sister would pester him to tell more stories about you- as if there were any left that he hadn’t. When the time would come and you’d nervously step through the tent flap with one hand holding his tightly and another clutching some gifts, his mother would rush forward and greet you with a kiss to the cheek, having already accepted you as family. His sister would steal you away from him to dote on you, much to his half-hearted chagrin. His father would tell corny jokes that you’d cringe at, and his mother would teach you recipes that had been passed down for generations, her warm, weathered hands resting atop yours and lovingly guiding your movements in the kitchen. 

The five of you, safe, warm, and alive under the sun. 

Hours after the rest of his family had gone to sleep, you’d lie side by side outside, watching the stars drift on by. Sigonia-IV is nothing like Pier Point. Free from light and industrial pollution, you’d have a stunning view of the cosmos every night. Twinkling stars shine overhead, so close you could practically pluck them out of the sky. Multicolored clouds of gas and stardust bathe the sky in their shifting hues as he tells you stories that have been passed down from generation to generation with the occasional shooting star passing by. You’d stay like that for hours on end, content to just listen and watch, until you were lulled to sleep by his voice. 

It would be cold, as all desert climates are at night, but it was nothing he couldn’t bear with your warmth nestled into his side. 

In the spring, or around now, he’d take you to celebrate the Kakava festival under the stars with a roaring bonfire. The festival itself would be a solemn and silent celebration with people murmuring prayers to the Mother Goddess and tossing sacrificial vessels into the fires, but the celebration of his birthday afterward would be loud and joyful. Bonfire sparks would rise up into the sky, carried by the hot solar winds and the rich sounds of his people’s songs. His mother would drape you in turquoise jewelry and gift you traditional clothes that she would’ve spent hours beforehand making by hand, every stitch a labor of love. He’d teach you to dance to the cheers of his family and the familiar tunes he’d hum under his breath. His movements would be fluid and graceful as he spins and twirls you around, while you stumble and flail along. He’d enjoy every second of it- even if you step on his feet the whole time. 

He would be kinder in this world, he thinks. He’d still be Kakavasha. Aventurine would be an unknown man to him. He’d wear his heart on his sleeve and his eyes would still have life to them. He’d never have to hide his left hand. 

And you’d be happier too. You wouldn’t have to sift through the layers to find the true self underneath the act he puts up. He wouldn’t be so hot and cold- practically love-bombing you one moment and then disappearing without a word for weeks the next. He wouldn’t be a dirty gambler, a two-faced businessman, a disinterested womanizer, cheating scum, an IPC mutt, a corporate bootlicker, a worthless Sigonian slut or who knows what else you’ve heard about him–

In this world, there are no Katicans. The Avigins and his family are still intact. His neck is unmarred and he speaks the Avigin dialect fluently, instead of the halting and choppy cadence that's even worse than that of a child’s. Syrupy, honeyed words spill from his mouth as he teaches you common words and phrases in his mother tongue. Have you eaten yet? How did you sleep? How was your day? I missed you. Mother. Sister. Father. Lover. Goddess. I made you something. I saw this today and thought of you. Be safe. Sweet dreams. Goodnight. I love you. He chuckles when you parrot them back to him haltingly, with your accent mixed in. The notebook you keep with various phrases, their meanings, and their phonetics grows every day. The most worn out page was the one crammed full of declarations of love that sound more akin to poetry as your mastery over the dialect grows. The ink is smeared from how often you’ve run your fingers over them, murmuring them under your breath until you’d committed them to memory. In your arms is the safest I’ll ever be. I’m lucky to call you my lover. I sleep better when I’m with you. I secretly name stars and constellations after you. I’ll kiss the weariness away from your face every night. I pray to Mama Fenge every night for your safety. I imagine her hands and embrace to be as warm as yours, and it reassures me somehow. I’ll miss your warm hands when that day finally comes. Goodnight, I love you.  

We’ll be together even in Kakava’s next aurora. 

Aventurine jolts forward with a start. His eyes search around frantically, instinctively searching for his family and you, only to be greeted with a familiar sight that isn’t his home. Bright flashing lights, the sound of cars honking and speeding by, muffled pop music playing in the distance, and the sugary scent of SoulGlad greet his senses instead of arid hot wind that howls in his ears and endless seas of sand. You and his family are nowhere to be seen either. 

Oh. Right.

The Dreamscape.

His clothes stick to his skin drenched in a cold sweat and his glasses are resting lopsidedly on his face. His whole body is shivering uncontrollably, as if he’s been plunged into ice-cold water without warning. The world is going white before his eyes and all he can hear is the loud thump of his pulse in his ears that suddenly drops. He thinks he’s about to pass out again. This is the end, he thinks. Aventurine leans against the side of a wall again, taking deep, heaving breaths to steady himself and quell the nausea swirling around in his stomach. 

When it subsides and he doesn’t feel like he’s on the verge of death (sadly), he sits back up and forces out a laugh in place of a sob. First forcing a religious consecration onto him, then dangling his family in front of his face? How much crueler could the head of the Oak Family get? 

His heart sinks and an overwhelmingly bitter feeling engulfs him. It was just a dream all along. A dream within a dream, really. Was he really that desperate for something familiar again?

(And just like that, the mask known as Aventurine is back in place.)

(But he couldn’t even say goodbye or apologize to his family one last time, even if it wasn’t them.)

It was a pleasant dream, he’ll admit. How nice it would be to live in that world forever. But he knew it was a dream because it could never happen, as much as it pained him. 

Aventurine hears the voice of Kakavasha drifting along from further up ahead and knows he’s nearing the final leg of his plan. With what little time he has left, he takes pictures with the boy for posterity and buys the child all the treats his eyes rest on for more than a second. Aventurine delights in the way his eyes light up at the first taste before he eagerly digs in for more. 

It’s cathartic, in a way. 

Before stepping on stage, he looks up at the sky. It’s perpetually nighttime in Clock Studios Theme Park, but he knows the sun is shining elsewhere in the Dreamscape. Is the sun shining where you are back at home? He thinks it’s morning for you. You must still be asleep with the cat cakes curled into your sides, blissfully unaware of the news you’ll wake up to. 

Get onstage. Fear not. Never look back. 

One last thing to do.

He sends a final text to you.

Aventurine: I love you.

It stays on delivered when he puts his phone away. It’ll be the first thing you see when you wake up, and that��s more than enough for him. 

It’s time for the curtain call.

The feeling of Kakavasha’s tiny body in his arms won’t be enough to chase away the grief. Nothing ever will be. But this’ll be the closest he can get.

Aventurine hugs the boy close, squeezing as hard as he can without hurting him. He feels how he’s nothing more than skin and bone beneath the oversized rags. No child should have to be this thin, he thinks, and he’s even more glad he treated Kakavasha to his heart’s content earlier. 

This is the end. He gives Kakavasha one last squeeze to imprint this memory into his mind and gets up, waving goodbye over his shoulder all the while. 

He never looks back. 

In a shower of light, Kakavasha dissolves into the Nihility, and with him, Aventurine’s hopes for the ideal future- the one that you deserved. The Horizon of Existence is finally devoid of all color save for himself and the dark sun beckoning him forward toward the event horizon.

He takes a step forward, and then another. The sound of his footsteps against the surface and liquid splashing echo loudly in the empty space. 

The Nihility is beginning to slowly engulf him. He feels it encroaching at the edges of his mind, eating away at his thoughts one by one until nothing remains. A hollow, empty feeling settles into his heart that weighs him down. Aventurine looks down at his hands and realizes the color is beginning to seep from his vision until he, too, would become one with the Nihility. The point of no return beckons to him like a moth to a flame. Nothingness, emptiness, worthlessness. There’s nothing left for him to do. 

“Can you die today without any regrets?”

Aventurine finally has an answer to that question. The past is gone and he’s walking toward no future.

Yes. I finally can.

enjoyed this? my taglist is open!

@ theother-victoria, do not copy, repost, modify, translate, or feed to ai

[whatifitookalilnap]

Hey could you post some scenarios about Asami being a bisexual loser pls?

This is like a third of my content and I will make another one:

Korra: you know, we’re just like otter penguins

Asami: why’s that?

Korra, kissing her cheek: because we mate for life!

Asami, giggling: you’re so cute

*later that day*

Asami, violently sobbing in Bolin’s arms: SHES SO FUCKING PERFECT BOLIN

Bolin, patting her back: I know, Asami

Asami: if I don’t get to marry her I’ll die

Bolin: I know Asami

Opal, walking into the room: hey babe, I’m back! Oh, hey Asami! Did Korra do something so cute it made you have a breakdown again?

Asami, still crying: yes

Opal: I can grab us some take out and you can fill me in?

Asami: *weak thumbs as she thinks about pretty Korra’s smile is*

Bolin: you know, I thought that when you guys would start dating, this would become a less frequent occurrence. Obviously, I was wrong

[brittle-doughie]

hiya brittle!! i have this like idea for a white pearl cookje x reader

so like i wanna make it angsty cause like

i like angst!!

and it's kinda similar to the even more heartbreak one you made

so what if reader was in love with white pearl, but white pearl chose lord oyster over them, and then she well

gets betrayed

i hope you can make something similar or something it's just an idea i had!! sorry to bother you for this 😭😭‼️‼️

Even More Heartbreak (Alt) - Mermaid’s Lament (White Pearl Cookie)

Why are y’all making her fumble so bad? Oh my lord-

You sigh solemnly as you seated yourself on a rock, gazing at the moon beyond the horizon. You’d occasionally look down to see your mercookie tail fiddle with the water a little bit before looking back up. The moon…it was beautiful…like…White Pearl Cookie…

———————————————————————

“I’m sorry, Y/N Cookie. I’m sorry that I can’t return your feelings…”

“I do hope this doesn’t drive a wedge between us and what we have right now..”

Your attempt to confess was only met with White Pearl Cookie’s polite decline. You knew it was a fruitless effort, but you wanted to at least try…

A small part of you hopeful…that she did harbor something for you…

It only made the later events all the more painful for you…

———————————————————————

“You’re already shining so radiantly. You’re my Moon.”

“Ha..ha..”

White Pearl Cookie giggled. It sounded like there was something genuine in her voice, something..loving.

“Then, you are my Sea. The Sea only I shine upon…”

———————————————————————

Thinking of that meeting only made the pit in your heart worse…

Hearing her calling him her Sea, the way she looked at him, you knew that what she has for him was way different then how she saw you…and yet, you held no ill will towards this Lord Oyster Cookie.

Of which this only served to bring you nothing but an ache to your heart..

For she wasn’t and is never going to be yours, her heart had belonged to another..

You wanted nothing more than to just sink to the deepest abyss…

Maybe then, this pain would stop…

“Is everything alright, Y/N Cookie? You haven’t come back to Tearcrown in a while..”

O-oh, you were just observing the night sky, you’d be returning back shortly, Mystic Opal Cookie shouldn’t worry about it.

She wasn’t buying it as she narrows her eyes at you.

“Something is troubling you. Are you comfortable enough to share it with me?”

You opened your mouth, ready to excuse your situation, but the look Mystic Opal was giving you made you realize that any attempt would be fruitless.

You didn’t know what to feel anymore. You wanted to be happy for White Pearl Cookie for finding the one she wants to be with, but it was hard to do when you felt nothing but emptiness..

Mystic Opal Cookie sighed as she swam to your side on the rock.

“I understand that things are difficult for you right now…but you need to know that White Pearl Cookie isn’t going to forget you…”

H-how does she think so? She seemed so infatuated Lord Oyster Cookie-

“That will change nothing. She may not show it…but White Pearl Cookie greatly values your friendship. It would sadden her if you two drift away over this…”

She shifted up to sit next to you on the rock, as she gently grabbed your hand into hers.

“It may hurt for a little while, but always remember that you aren’t alone….you can always speak to the others about how you feel. Me included…”

“Let it all out. I’ll never leave you…”

You quietly sobbed to her as she gently embraced you. It still hurts, but…Mystic Opal Cookie was helping in slowly making you feel better…

———————————————————————

Day by day, you’ve spent time with Mystic Opal Cookie as she helped you with your emotions. She was always ready to put aside what she was doing to tend to you, you appreciated how attentive she was about you. You felt like you could come to her for everything, a sentiment that Mystic Opal shared.

As time went on, you felt like that pain from before was no longer plaguing you and your heart. It had made you believe that there was a chance to find the one you cherished in another cookie.

You’ve started to talk to White Pearl Cookie again with a new outlook, she was still your friend and you’ll do whatever you can to help her! White Pearl herself was happy that what she did had not driven you away from her…

And yet..she can’t help but feel like something was missing with how you spoke to her. You didn’t gush about her or overly complimented her, you talked her..basically like she was your friend. She has no problem with this, it’s just…she wouldn’t have minded if you continued to pay her compliments every now and then..

She sees how you are with Mystic Opal Cookie…with how you look at and talk to her…

It..reminds her of how much you used to do that with her…

It made her a little worried…and jealous….

———————————————————————

The sound of a cannon firing its shot was heard, hitting its target as White Pearl Cookie cried out in pain.

“Eeuugh…!”

“Gotcha! Now catch it while it’s tired out!”

A fishnet was fired at her direction as all White Pearl Cookie could try to weakly get away…before the fishnet was caught by a thrown spear!

Not if you had anything to say about it! You called for Crimson Coral Cookie and the others to make themselves known and get White Pearl out of there!

“Right! White Pearl Cookie, come with me!”

“Hahaha! You be looking different compared to the rest! Wonder what you’re worth!”

Abalone Cookie had thrown a harpoon in your direction, you had barely enough time to dodge it. The eclipse had weakened your movement somehow, so timing was everything!”

“Slippery little fish, are ya! Pass me another harpoon!”

You tell him to give it his best shot!

“Y/N Cookie!”

“White Pearl Cookie, we have to go now!”

“No, I’m tired of running away! Not with Y/N Cookie in danger!”

A harpoon managed to graze you by the arm, it was enough to make you grunt in pain!

“Ha! Not so slippery anymore, are ya?!”

A fishing net was fired at your location, seemingly ready to trap you in its bind when you’re quickly pulled under the water! Abalone clearly annoyed that you had escaped.

It completely took you by surprise until you saw Mystic Opal Cookie along with you!

“Just like before and like I’ll always continue to do, Y/N Cookie. I’ll never leave your side…”

You quickly grow flustered, you..thanked Mystic Opal for her help. She gently smiled as she looked at your graze wound.

“It doesn’t look too bad, but I’ll tend to it just to be sure…”

You thanked her again as she patched you up. When she was done, she brought your hand to caress her cheek. Her cheeks grew warm with a blush, a small smile making its way on her face. It must’ve been contagious with how your own face grew red..

It was like there was nothing else but you and Mystic Opal Cookie in this world…

She got closer…

So did you….

Was this…?

“So, it’s true then…”

You and Mystic Opal quickly retracted from each other, turning to see White Pearl Cookie staring you two down, her eyes darkening…

“Y/N Cookie…I thought you had liked me…”

White Pearl Cookie…

“I…I was a fool to think he would cherish me…”

“When I had you with me…”

“I’m sorry, Y/N Cookie. I’m sorry for having been so blind to your feelings..”

“I thought that I would’ve been happy with our friendship…”

“But seeing you with Mystic Opal Cookie, it’s brought nothing but turmoil to my heart…”

“Please…all I want now is for you to reconsider. I know it’s a selfish request, but I promise that I do cherish you now!”

“You were my Sea all along…”

“White Pearl Cookie, I understand you’re hurting, but you can’t just-“

“SILENCE! LET THEM SPEAK!”

The incredibly loud shriek of White Pearl Cookie made everyones’ heart stop for a moment. White Pearl Cookie was upset at the mere implication of rejection..

“Y/N Cookie is all I have left…they cared about me despite the pain I’ve put them through…”

“That cookie, Frilled Jellyfish Cookie, the Kingdom…all gone. Only Y/N Cookie is left for me.”

“I refuse to let them go…whether it be to this war or to another cookie like you, Mystic Opal Cookie.”

“I won’t let you take them away…”

“I won’t leave them…not this time…”

“Aha…he he he…HA HA HA HA HA!”

The waters around you grew tense as Mystic Opal Cookie and Crimson Coral Cookie shielded you.

Something told you that it wasn’t this war that should make you afraid anymore…

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

Little comfort things

Self-Aware! BSD AU x SAGAU Imposter AU

Self-Aware! Kunikida Doppo x GN! Reader x Self-Aware! Paul Verlaine

Description: You can't sleep. Doppo and Verlaine are here to make you feel comfortable.

Set in a week after Lost and Found. At this point, BSD Cast don't know, what happened to Reader

Warning: OOC. English is my second language.

Shortish comfort fic

__________

You tossed and turned in your bed. You opened your bloodshot eyes. You couldn't sleep. You were afraid of sleeping. Because each time you close your eyes, you saw Teyvat. That wrenched place... For the last week you couldn't sleep, the only time you could catch some sleep, was during dawn hours, while you lose focus on anything, because of exhaustion.

You sobbed and hit the mattress. You wanted to sleep! You don't want to feel afraid anymore.

You groaned and put the pillow above your head. You remembered, how it was, when you were a kid and had a nightmare.

If you were a kid again... Your parents would probably put your favorite blanket around you, took you to the kitchen and make you a cup of cocoa. You will have your favorite toy with you, hugging it, while drinking your cocoa and eating cookies. Then you will go to bed, and there would be no nightmares.

But you were an adult. There were no little blankets with colorful print, no favorite toy, no cocoa in a cup with cartoon animals on it, no cookies with smiley faces...

Only memories about Teyvat, fear and guilt of making BSD Cast worried about you...

___________

"Are you sure, that you need my help?" asked Verlaine, looking at your parents' place. Kunikida nodded slightly.

"Yes. [Y/N] are..." Kunikida didn't finish. Everyone knew, what was happening to you. "Maybe, their parents knew, how to help them."

Verlaine nodded, yet, asked again.

"But, why me?"

Kunikida sighed and open the car's door.

"I need someone, who will make [Y/N] feel safe. If there's no way to comfort them, we need to find how to do it ourselves. And [Y/N] see you as a protector."

Kunikida stepped outside from the car. Verlaine followed after him.

"Besides," Kunikida's ears became slightly pink. "I need someone, who will help to came up with a believable lie."

__________

Verlaine was carrying a box in his hands. Your parents were sweet enough to share stories about your childhood with "[Y/N]'s nice friends". With some sweet words, Verlaine managed to get some of your old things from your parents.

Verlaine didn't know if it was true, that things from childhood can lift person's spirit. Well, at least Kunikida was sure of it. Verlaine only hopped, that it would help you.

Tonight, they will help you.

________

Another night, another sleepless night.

You just lay here, looking at the ceiling, thinking about anything you can, to distract you from Teyvat.

A quiet knock on the door cut your line of thoughts.

Did you wake someone up?

You sat up and spoke. Your voice was hoarse.

"Come in..."

The door was opened, and Verlaine stepped into your room. You looked at the floor. You didn't want to look at Verlaine. You were too embarrassed.

Verlaine took a few more steps, until he stepped right before your bed. You were waiting for him to ask you to be quiet.

Instead, something soft was wrapped around your shoulders.

It took you some time, before you realized, what it was. Such an old, soft, familiar thing. Now, it was too small for you and only can cover your shoulders.

"M-my childhood blanket?" You looked at Verlaine. You can't believe it. How he got it from your parents' home? Then you saw another thing. A familiar toy in his hands. Your favorite one.

You didn't resist, when Verlaine gave you the toy. You only hugged it closer to your chest.

And then Verlaine pick you up.

"Let's go, Dear Opal. Your cocoa and cookies are waiting for you."

When Verlaine carried you to the kitchen, a little ghost of a smile appeared on your face.

Kunikida was here. He was keeping an eye on a pot. A bag of milk, few sugar cubes, box of cocoa powder, bottle of whipped cream, box with chocolate chips, a bottle of vanilla sauce and bag of marshmallows were on the table.

Kunikida turned towards you and Verlaine, and a smile appeared on his face.

"It's almost ready. Give me another minute."

Verlaine and you nodded. Verlaine put you on one of the chairs.

Soon, a big cup of cocoa (with whipped cream, chocolate chips, vanilla cream and a marshmallow) was put before you. Ingredients were put away and were replaced with a big bowl of cookies.

Doppo and Verlaine didn't touch their cocoas, until you make a first sip.

Then Kunikida spoke.

"[Y/N]. I want to tell you that we all care about you. All of us love you. You are dear to all of us. Don't be afraid of asking for help. We will help you. We will be here for you."

Then Verlaine started talking.

"Please, don't be ashamed of being vulnerable. We... didn't know why. But we will be here regardless of the reason. You deserved everything in this world."

You didn't answer, but another faint smile touched your lips.

Then you whispered.

"Thank you..."

The rest of the cocoa drinking were in comfortable silence.

You felt calm. You were among friends. Your little comfort things were there.

For the first time in a week, you felt truly safe. And sleepy.

You finished your cocoa and eat the final cookie.

Kunikida and Verlaine noticed your sleepy expression. Kunikida gently pat your head.

"Let's get you to bed, My Ideal. We will keep you safe. We will stay in your room tonight."

Verlaine pick you up again. Both him and Kunikida returned to your room.

You were put into bed and tucked in. Your childhood blanket and toy was put near you on your bed.

Verlaine and Kunikida got themselves comfortable on your bean bags. It seems, they were serious about staying in your room.

Your room was dark. You closed your eyes.

And finally had a long dream without nightmares.

_________

Kunikida and Verlaine observed your sleeping figure. At this moment, all their problems disappeared. You were sleeping. And you were slightly happier. With small steps, they will help you. With small gestures and warm words.

Because you deserve every bit of happiness they can and will give you.

________

Tag list: @withered-blossoms , @myluckymoon @cocodrilofeliz @c4xcocoa @vvyeislazzy @whisperingwinters @nervousinfluencertidalwave @ayameshu

[amica-aenigmata-naboo]

Rage

Astarion x Y/N - drabble - 1.1K WC NSFW 18+

Masterlist

Warnings: anger, rage, big feels, reader is going through it, Astarion being a grade A bf, foreplay, a sprinkle of smut

------------------

You had never felt anger like this. This was seething, bubbling out of you bones. This was rage. Everything about this journey was boiling over and you just didn’t know what to do with all these overwhelming emotions. You never felt like this, you were usually rather calm, dismissing things that irritated or vexed you as ultimately you deemed them unworthy of your anger. But everything was too much and for some reason you felt angry above every other emotion. So you left camp, not in the mood to seek out support. You walked until your feet hurt, finding a clearing. You took a deep breath before releasing beams of light from your palms. You held them out before you waved them slowly, a force field surrounding a good chunk of the clearing. Once you were sure it was sealed you let out a gut wrenching scream. You started swinging your axe wildly at any and all things it could possibly hit. You kept yelling and screaming, weight on your chest lessening with every rip of your vocal cords. Your power enveloped you, you were glowing surrounded by shimmering light like that of an opal. You watched as the force field started to fracture but you didn’t care, you kept screaming and slashing. You don’t know when, but rage turned into despair after a while. You just felt… everything. It was too much. You didn’t know what to do with it all. Screaming and hacking had gotten rid of the immediate anger but something settled there that made tears stream down your face. You collapsed to your knees as sobs wracked you. You curled into yourself sniveling and shaking. Everything hurt, but it was all inside. You heard a twig snap but didn’t bother to look up. You felt arms wrap around you, pulling you into them. You knew it was Astarion, his scent giving him away immediately. You leaned into him, grasping at his shirt. Your sobs continued, everything flowing out of you. He rubbed your back, whispering words of love to you. You cried for what felt like hours, yet he was with you the whole time. 

Eventually, your breathing slowed. Your cries turned into soft sniffles and mewls. Neither of you spoke for a long time. You were so exhausted. You felt better, getting everything out but now you were just tired. All you wanted to do was sleep, so that’s what you did. You felt Astarion’s arms cradle you before lifting you up. He started walking before you fell into a deep sleep. 

-------------------

You woke up in his tent. Candles and incense filling the tent with a relaxing odor. You sat up slightly, the blanket he covered you with slipping down to reveal Astarion’s nightshirt hanging loosely around your shoulders. You smiled at yourself, thinking of all the small things he does to make you feel better. 

“Hello my love.” he said as he walked into the tent. 

You smiled at him bashfully. Astarion had never seen you do more than cry so you felt slightly embarrassed. “Hi…” you whispered back, your voice was hoarse and scratchy from all the screaming.

Astarion handed you a steaming cup of tea before sitting down with you. You instinctively shared the blanket with him, covering both your laps. “I’m sorry you had to see me like that…” you spoke before you took a sip. Jasmine, just the way he knew you liked it. 

“Why are you sorry? You’re not made of stone dear.” he said as he took your hand, reassuring you.

“I know… I just… I never wanted you to see me out of control like that… everything is too much and I just had to get it out somehow…” You stared down at your tea, unable to look him in the eye. 

“When I was under Cazador’s control, I took out an entire camp of Gur. Cazador compelled me to not drink from them but I was so angry, so full of hate… I needed other people to feel it. So I took it out on them. They were so helpless and I cut through them like a knife through butter…”

You looked up at him. He had a far away look in his eyes, remorse. 

“Pain is a funny thing. It can stay bottled up for so long before it has to be let out. Sometimes it's let out in horrid ways. But… pain is a good conduit.”

“How so?” you asked.

“It shows us how strong we are, what we are capable of. Pain, anger, hate… all of those awful things can be channeled out. Only you remain once they are gone. What you did… that's how you needed to get everything out. And that’s ok, that makes you human.” he smiled softly at you, squeezing your hand.

“I just feel so weak…” you frowned. Leaders should be strong is what you said to yourself everyday to push everything down. 

“On the contrary my sweet, only the strong are that in tune with themselves. And look at you now - calm, regulated. You are the strongest person I know.” 

You beamed at him, he always knew what to say. “Thank you Star.” 

You placed your empty cup next to you before crawling up to give him a kiss. He held your face, kissing you back eagerly. You settled your back against his chest, he wrapped an arm around you while the other moved your hair from your neck. He placed sloppy kisses and small licks over the vast expanse. You let out an unintentional, sleepy moan. 

“Let me ease your tension…” he said before his hand slowly slid up your shirt, fondling your chest. You mewled in response, kissing his cheek. He kept working your neck while his other hand slid into your underwear. Your back arched as he started to play with you. Thankfully he didn’t tease you much, he knew how much of a release you needed. His hands moved skillfully, knowing every place you liked to be touched and just how to touch you. You squirmed in his grasp but you never wanted to leave this position.

“I love you…” you whispered between moans, one of your hands tangling itself into his hair. 

“And I you…” he said right as you came undone on his hand. He continued to kiss you as he adjusted your underwear back into place. You were fading quickly, your body spent in every way. “My darling, my truest love…” you hear him whisper all his honeyed words, and feel his ghostly kisses before you slipped away, snuggling into him and placing a kiss on his chest.

-----------------

Naboo's Note:

Hey besties! Hope all is well with y'all. This was a fun little idea but I also wanted to put out a little bit of clarification. I do NOT follow any DND rules all of this is just straight from my smooth ass brain at like 2 AM. So if things don't actually work in DND in my fics, that's why. Thank you as always for the likes, comments, reblogs, and requests! XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO!!!!!!!!

[staticymaticyyourlifeisatravesty]

A Daughter's Rage

The rage she felt was potent. How dare he cast her aside like common trash? She was his eldest, his first, the one that had stood by his side when all else fell. Yet...he dared to disown her, to cast her from his name and strike it out. For what? Because she dared to speak up? That she dared to voice that she thought such perfection was unattainable, that there was imperfection within perfection. It was just what was natural.

But he had flown into such a rage then. Such rage, and she had said some unfortunate things back but she stood by them. If he were to disown her, to treat her as if she were dead, then she shall use the name Opal. For Opal was her mother, who gave her life in order for Zelda to live. A fitting name for her.

She does not think as she moves down the twisting passage ways. She does not think until she comes before a painting of her father.

"Why!? Why did you cast me aside!? When did I stop being enough for you? Your standards were always high, but attainable for the most part. Ambition. It's what allowed us to revolt on chemos. Yet...why am I suddenly nothing to you? Haven't I always been your loving daughter? Haven't I always given sound advice before? You never reacted like that before, so why now?"

The portrait does not answer and she wants to shred it to pieces as she bawls her hands into fists. Yet...she glances towards it again and the anger leaves her to be to be replaced by confusion. The Fulgrim in the portrait looks like...he's sobbing? Yes he's sobbing. Whereas before he'd looked proud as he did in all his portrait. But this...he suddenly looked like a man racked with agony.

What..? What could've- The figure moved and she stared in shock as the Fulgrim within the portrait mouthed the words "I'm sorry" before it forcibly returned to the position she found it in. She was certain it was her father, it had felt like him in the way it hadn't for a long time. Which meant...wait if his soul was here...

Then what was the thing that just disowned her..?

[linnorabeifong]

I Physically Can’t Get This Idea Out of My Head

How many people actually know Lin got her scars from Su ? I was rewatching the Zafou episodes and I don’t think Lin ever explicitly mentioned Su giving her the scars. So none of the krew knows. So I get why her anger doesn’t look justified to them and why they would pressure her to make up without that context. But I so badly want them to discover it. I want to see their reactions . I want them to see photos of Lin before she was scarred. How would their perceptions of Su and Lin change ? Would they be more empathetic towards Lin ?

Additionally I don’t think Su’s kids know the truth. Opal really loves her aunt I imagine she would be quite angry if she found out and while Lin’s bond with her nephews isn’t explored in the show ( which it should’ve been I want to see her play power disk with Wei and Wing, and praise Huan’s art and have a heart to heart with Baatar) I think they’re also attached to her and would be upset.

Further how about the air kids, Lin seems quite close to them and they’re all very curious. They’ve probably asked her several times before. Did she lie to them to protect her sister ? Does she give up and tell the truth one day ?

How about Kya, Bumi and Izumi ? Were any of them actually there when it all went down ? Did she tell them ? ( I don’t think she would it seems painful for her to talk about ) How would they react to the truth thirty years later?

Also I think Toph has the capacity for empathy. I think she’s ignorant to the full extent of Lin’s injury and that’s why she was so apathetic about it and just wants to move on. She’s blind. She never saw the bandages or saw how deep the scars ran, how large they were but if she did would she have acted differently? I think so. Sure she’s neglectful but she’s not a monster. If she actually felt the scars I think she would’ve comforted her daughter. She would’ve been more mad at Su. In her eyes Lin has a little scratch and Su was an accomplice in a crime. So if course she thinks Lin is overreacting. In her eyes sending Su away for being an accomplice is a crime is proportional to the harm done. She thinks Lin’s anger is just her being a square and normal sibling bickering. If she knew the whole truth maybe she would’ve punished Su more and made her make it up to Lin somehow.

( does she even know that Lin has a scar afterwards? Does anyone mention them in front of her ?)

and Lin would never let anyone touch her scars ever so how is Toph supposed to understand? How can she without feeling them ?

More thoughts about Toph: Raising both of the girls while being blind must’ve been difficult. Think about it she can’t see if their clothes get stained, can’t see if they have a bruise or see if they’re crying. So much of communication and understanding is nonverbal. She misses out on so many social cues and so much visual information. On top of being blind both her and Lin dislike physical affection.So all they really have left is verbal communication and both of them are too emotionally stunted and prone to bottling things up to ever say what they need to. Let’s be honest Toph isn’t a great listener either so she probably doesn’t fully realize/respond to what Lin is trying to say. Lin may be better at writing out or drawing her emotions but Toph wouldn’t be able to read what she wrote or see her visual work. Lin would have to learn braille and sit down and write in it to get her mother to understand which I honestly don’t believe she has the patience or desire to do. Nor do I believe Toph has the patience or desire to sit down and read all of that. ( Does Toph know braille ?) They can’t communicate with each other properly. There are so many barriers. Of course their relationship is strained. While it may not be wholly Toph’s fault it has produced a huge impact on both of her daughters that none of them can address.

An epiphany : LIN IS A SILENT CRIER. She doesn’t sob. Are you following me? Rewatch the Zafou episode if you don’t believe me . Nonverbal - audio communication ( I don’t know if there’s an actual word for this) doesn’t happen between them. Lin isn’t vocally expressive. She doesn’t cry out loud or scream or make any other vocalizations when she is in physical or emotional pain. She may grunt in some of the fight scenes but she isn’t loud. Think about when she got her bending taken. Probably one of the most physically and emotionally painful moments of her entire life. In that scene she didn’t make a single sound. Or the reverse she got her bending restored a huge moment of relief she didn’t laugh or make any other sounds of joy. She just thanked Korra. Lin is silent . Toph can’t hear her.

In conclusion communication is everything and everyone of them needs therapy.

[genderless-ghost]

oh my fucking god the domunox (idk how to spell his name and idc) reveal??? grand demon of loathing that attacks insecurities to induce self loathing to make people embrace the abyss??? holy shit. ashton is right they are so fucked, bells hells is a fucking buffet for this fucker.

chet - like he may love being the wolf, but his is losing control of the wolf and hurting people, especially those he cares about and that missing time where he might have hurt people like kids, especially considering he’s lost control and hurt the group before, specifically orym

laudna - her whole deal with delilah and how intertwined they are, but also hurting and losing imogen and to an extent the others, her self worth issues and how willing she is to give up herself and intertwine and use delilah to stop ludinus

imogen - losing laudna to delilah, especially if it’s emphasized that imogen could have saved her, the loss of her future with laudna, losing herself to predathos, what they’re doing isn’t enough, also is delilah taking control of laudna and she isn’t paying attention or able to stop it

fearne - outwardly she doesn’t have a ton of insecurities, but her parents could be brought up in a “they left you with nana, did they even want you, did they even care, they never came back”

ashton - his whole thing with self worth and feeling like they weren’t able to get fcg to see their own self worth. they are only here to take the damage the others can’t take, their abandonment issues especially with the nobodies, maybe even bring it back to what happened with the shard and absolutely bring in being unable to stop or save fcg

dorian - obviously his brother cyrus and what happened with opal and the crown keepers. ties into his own self worth issues and his connection to the spider queen, the fact that he doesn’t really know what he’s doing here, feeling lost. feeling like if he had let cyrus fix his problem, maybe he would still be here. i am so ready for robbie to wreck us at the live show and if matt brings orym into the hallucination with cyrus that dorian is having i will Lose My Mind even more than i already am

orym - all of his self sacrifice issues and need to protect his family at his own expense. also bringing in the the deal with nana mori and using the fight with laudna to make him feel like the group only wants him bc he can take hits for them. it would absolutely target his survivors guilt and his feelings that he shouldn’t have survived the attack when the others died. if he fails the save, i can’t wait for matt to show him his family, especially will and derrig and dorian, saying things like “why didn’t you save us, how did you let this happen, don’t you care about us? we’re dead you’re still here and you shouldn’t be”. let him break down and be angry and sob i want this so so bad

god i can’t fucking wait for the live show this is gonna wreck us

[raayllum]

the cube is just like

"This doesn't end well for you" / "It's the key of Aaravos, no good can come from it!"

Callum brings the cube in addition to the mirror, the latter of which he justifies because he thinks "it's related to the evil returning the world" in the exact same scene with ominous music playing

"Are you practicing magic or are you losing to Bait at a game of rolly-cubes?" / "We had to beat Aaravos at his own game." / "I fear Aaravos is toying with us."

Has a star sign that is almost always synonymous with Aaravos at this point

Is compared to the one ring from LOTR explicitly in that Callum wasn't able to cast it aside

Is in the Callum pawn intro just as a nod to the audience

"It's a toy. A piece from a children's game. I hope it was worth it to you, putting everyone's lives in danger."

Represents Callum's dark magic temptation in 2x08, and now we know more than ever why dark magic would be/is connected to Aaravos

By that measure it also represents a destiny he doesn't want in 2x08 that is likewise related to Aaravos ("you need to accept your destiny" / "destined to play right into my hands")

Bonus points for the red glow potentially linking back into the blood + star (deep) magic connection: "You can have unlimited power"

The cube lighting up bc of the moon opal on the bridge of darkness is what almost gets them all killed

Is used to foreshadow finding the prison in s5 (1x04 ocean rune with "you found it") and Callum's dark magic use (5x08 with ocean and moon runes on full display)

"Legends say it unlocks something of great power in Xadia" (2x06) / "Dark magic became the key that unlocked a place of power in Xadia for humanity" (TOX)

The key having secrets + the mystery of Aaravos

"You wait here, a minute, couple minutes - however long it takes, I'll go find a key."

and i'm sobbing into my hands

[burplewrites]

saudade | tamarack & qiu

𓆉 | fandom: our life: now & forever

𓆉 | characters: tamarack, qiu, reader

𓆉 | word count: 1,075 words 5,946 characters

𓆉 | a/n: this story is sort of in qiu's pov, and about grief and stuff!! i don't think its too sad, just an experience but you have been warned!

𓆉 | quick summary: y/n passed. the world just needs to learn how to deal.

saudade is an emotional state of melancholic or profoundly nostalgic longing for a beloved yet absent something or someone.

“and you two are gonna grow up someday and i’m gonna grow up too, but that’s never gonna stop us from being the same age. cool.” that’s what they said, eight years ago, when they first met y/n and tamarack for the first time after the duo waltzed their way into their life.

ever since that fateful day, the three were friends, best friends. even with the little break of their friendship from ‘personal problems and moody feelings’ as y/n used to say, y/n brought them together again and reminded them why they were friends in the first place.

their friendship only got better from then on, and they committed to bettering themselves and each other, talking about problems, and about random thoughts that entered their minds. at least, that’s what qiu thought. he thought that they all told each other everything, all their stupid secrets, random thoughts in the middle of the night, things that would be considered too much information for other people. so why didn’t y/n tell them, not tamarack or him, anything about what they were going through? why didn’t they say anything at all?

they never expressed pain, or acted like they were suffering at all. they were always smiling, expressing their positive emotions with not a care in the world. qiu loved them for that. they had been crushing on each other for a while, qiu knew that, y/n knew that, and even tamarack, who had to watch the whole thing unfold in front of her, knew that. they just never got together, and now they would never get the chance to.

it was only a year ago when their life changed. when tamarack yelled in the middle of the night, alarming everyone out of their drowsy state, y/n was having trouble breathing, and was trying to get upstairs to their mother's room without disturbing their best friends on the couch. their limbs started giving out, making them fall to the floor. that whole night was a blur for qiu and tamarack alike. watching their best friend’s mom trying to help y/n take some breaths as they all cried, seeing the tiredness in y/n’s eyes, like they’ve been fighting this for years and was finally starting to give up, and opal’s sobs as she begged her only child to keep trying, to keep breathing. tamarack clutched hard onto qiu that day, the shock causing her to freeze up.

hearing their best friend's last words, being so weak, so quiet, yet so genuine. it was like y/n trying to fully get everything out like they knew this would be the end.

"hey its okay, you're okay… you're okay. i love you guys so much, more than you'll ever know."

that's what they whispered, as the paramedics took them away. a smile never left their face, even with the ventilator on their face and the paramedics checking their vitals on the way out the door. they died on the way to the hospital. even to the end, they were caring for others.

opal changed as a person after that. having to bury your only child, someone who you watched grow up, someone who you experienced their good days and bad days, and was just expected to keep moving. but that was impossible, how could she? her world stopped that day but everyone kept moving, the world kept spinning at the same speed it always did, no faster, no slower.

but y/n was gone.

tamarack put her whole being into her cello practice since y/n always seemed to like it when she played for them. she even played a song she wrote at the funeral; a song that was supposed to be for her best friend. one that they were somewhat writing together. she still tried being normal, helping opal with whatever she needed, but never trying to pressure her. it was tamarack's form of escape. if she could be in the house that y/n was in, surrounded by all the things that made them, them… that would be enough. it had to be enough. qiu simply regressed into themself. it was like they were back to when they were fourteen. they stayed outside sitting by their ‘hideout’; hiding away from the world. tamarack tried to stay with him some days, when qiu wanted the company and couldn’t deal with being alone without someone to talk to, someone who understood, but other times it was too overwhelming and they preferred to be alone.

life changed. golden grove moved on, and people found other things to talk about, but sometimes things brought them back to that day one year ago.

especially today, the one-year anniversary of y/n’s death. three hundred and sixty-five days without them. it was early morning, around five am, and qiu biked to the cemetery to just be with them alone. they knew tamarack would be coming in the morning after she woke up, and opal would be coming in the afternoon, so this was the best option. plus they couldn’t sleep.

qiu never knew they could cry that much. every time they came to visit, to talk about something exciting that happened, or something weird, or anything really, they would end up breaking into sobs each time, gasping for air by the time their tears ran out.

‘why did you even have to come into my life if you were going to leave it partway?’

that was a question that they asked themselves multiple times and always felt bad for thinking about it after. they knew tamarack felt the same. tamarack was the first of the two to mention that thought out loud.

but it was true, wasn’t it? they never regretted having y/n in their life. everyone's life shone so much brighter with them there, like the sun on a summer day, but with the sun gone it gets darker. the sun always comes back, but y/n wouldn't. y/n was dead. they were gone, and they were going to stay gone.

no matter how much opal begged, how much they all hoped and dreamt, y/n was not coming back. they were never coming back. they had been gone for the last three hundred sixty-five days, they would be gone for the next year, and the years after that. and nothing could change that.

so as qiu sat there, laying by their grave while talking about everything and anything, all they could really do was hope y/n was there and listening.

[planetharrie]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Toddler Tantrums

This is also available on my Wattpad @PlanetHarrie.

In which Harry and Lucille’s little doll of a daughter turns two and into a diva, causing mayhem in the household.. 👧🏡🧸

⭐️

The Terrible Twos; The phase neither Harry or Lucille had been looking forward to, at ALL. Having it only been a week since their little Opal had turned two, all of the sudden she'd become angry, whiny and clingy—mainly towards her mother. And with Lucille being less than a month away from giving birth to their second child, she did not having the patience or physical ability to tame a screaming and kicking child.

One night, after a 5 hour-long battle with Opal to get her into bed, Lucille had snapped and broke down to Harry in their bedroom. She was exhausted and burnt-out. The biting and scratching had caused red marks up her forearms but overall, the sound of her precious one wailing and screaming 'I hate you!’ had broke her.

Harry had been helping as much as he could, but Opal seemed to only want her mother; whether it be physically clinging onto Lucille's leg or screaming in her face 'I want a new mummy!', Opal would not let Harry pick her up and would cover her little ears every time he tried to speak to her.

So, one Saturday, Harry forced his wife out of the house for a day out with her sister and mum for some much-needed girl-time and shopping; leaving Harry to deal with the devil.

It was only ten-thirty AM and Opal had already kicked off; what had started off as a cute chasing-game as Harry raced after Opal, who'd escaped the bath and refused to get dressed, had turned into tears.

"Opal, Daddy wants you to get dressed—OW!" Harry was knelt in the middle of the hallway, holding Opal in his chest when she squirmed and head-butted his chin, "No hitting! That's very naughty; You've hurt Daddy!" He tasted that bitter, metallic taste on his tongue and grimaced.

"N-No, Dada!" She continued to squirm in his grasp, pushing her arms into his chest in attempt of escaping. She let out an echoing screech when a shirt was suddenly pulled over her head and began arching her back as she fought. Harry, with his immaculate and impressive amount of patience, calmly cooed and shushed her gently.

"You can't go out and play without clothes on, baby."

Opal was a proper girly-girl; she loved wearing pink and having Lucille paint her little nails and plait her fawn-brown curls. She loved surprising her Dad with her new look, twirling and smiling as she showed him her outfit. This behaviour was completely out of the ordinary for her, and every tantrum was like a beating to the body for both parents.

"Daddy! P-Please," A sob wracked her voice and Harry instantly let go, sighing with defeat as Opal clambered off his lap and stood in front of him. Her curls were still wet from her bath and her cheeks and eyes were red and puffy.

"I hate you!" She screamed, clenching her fists and running past into the living room, still undressed.

"Fuck." Harry dragged his hand down his face. He was angry—furious even—but also heartbroken. He'd watched many episodes of Super Nanny but he never thought he'd actually have to deal with such horrific temper tantrums from such a small being. Maybe she's hungry? He thought for a second, but rolled his eyes and pushed that thought to the back of his mind. He got up from his kneeling position. His knees clicked as he stood and waddled into the kitchen. He silently began clearing up breakfast. The dining table had spilt Cheerios and milk and juice all over it's oak top and Harry prayed that nothing would stain.

A little while had passed. Harry had eaten an apple, made a smoothie for himself, done the dishes and was currently sat on a stool scrolling through his phone as he waited for a pan of beans to heat up on the stove. Beans on toast was Opal's favourite meal ever since she'd caught an awful stomach bug a few weeks back. It was also Lucille's comfort food too, hence why it was offered to Opal for her try. Harry hoped that this early lunch would win Opal around so that they can have a talk together.

Harry looked up from his phone when he heard a faint, "Daddy.." from somewhere in the house. He hadn't heard a peep from her since she'd stormed off and he slightly feared that she was coming back for another round.

Little bare feet pattered into the kitchen. Opal stood in the doorway, still undressed in her nappy and her hair dry but knotted. In her hands was a piece of paper.

"Daddy, I called you an' you didn' answer.." She mumbled with a pout.

"Sorry, baby, I didn't hear you.." Harry lied. He put his phone on the counter and gave his daughter his full attention. "Have you come to tell me somethin'?" He hoped she'd come to make peace and apologise. Harry, she two-years-old. What two-year-old says sorry willingly? He told himself.

Opal stared blankly at the floor, swaying slightly on her feet before gently passing him the piece of paper. "I made it while you was mad,"

Harry took it gracefully. It was a drawing of three stick figures; one tall stickman, a smaller one wearing a tutu and a medium-sized one with—what Harry guessed to be—a baby bump. He chuckled at her sweet attempt of drawing the family. Red 'hearts' were dotted around the page and in the corner (very, very small) was a written 'sorey' underlined in purple gel-pen. Harry's heart swelled and he bent down on the stool and offered his arm out to bring her in for a side-hug.

"Thank you, my baby. This is very kind of you, well done!" He squeezed out a little giggle from her, "But I wasn't mad, I could never get mad at you, Opie."

She pulled away and chewed on her lip, "I'm still sowey, though.."

"I know you are. You can't keep being nasty to Mummy and me. It's not nice, is it?"

She shook her head.

"I think Mummy deserves an apology too, don't you?"

"Mhm! I will run up to her the second she comes into my room and I'll scream it and hug her and I'll never ever be mean again!" She grinned, showing her baby teeth; Harry hadn't seen her smile properly in a little while. "And I'll even draw her another drawin'"

"That's a very good idea, baby!" She grinned again and her eyes wandered up to the hissing noise from the stove.

"Are you making beans on toast?!" Her voice raised an octave in excitement.

"Yup! Your favourite, hm?" Harry picked up his little girl to help him stir the beans. They turned up the radio and sang and danced along to ME! by Taylor Swift, which was Opal's favourite. The two settled down on the sofa with a tray each with a portion of beans on toast steaming on their laps and Opal requested that they watch Trolls as she ate.

-

Lucille came home a few hours later with some bags of shopping and a take-away pizza, surprised when she was not greeted by neither her hyper-clingy daughter or knackered husband. Placing the bags onto the kitchen counter, she entered the dimly-lit living room only to find her two curled up on the couch asleep with the end-credits of Trolls displayed on the TV. Harry's head was tilted back against the sofa with Opal's head laid on a pillow on his lap. She had orange sauce around her mouth and was cocooned cutely in a blanket. Lucille smiled and ran her hand gently over her large, pregnant stomach before spotting a drawing on the coffee table. In bright letters was 'Sorry Mummy!' Lucille laughed to herself softly and assumed Harry had helped her as there was no way Opal could spell either of those words without help. Harry stirred and lifted his head up from the back of the couch, rubbing sleep from his eye. He glanced up and spotted his wife.

"Oh—hi, love." He rasped.

"Hi." She smiled, running her hand through his hair. "Busy day?" She teased, and by Harry's look on his face, she already knew the answer.

"Busy is an understatement."

⭐️

[poetpony6890]

Drunken words, Sober thoughts

“Why would you allow him to drink that much?!” Alden exclaimed, watching as Ash shrugged his shoulders.

“Oh do not give me that shit. Who were you drinking with?” Alden asked, as Kit kept heaving into the bucket placed behind the sea creature covered panel, although it did not provide much privacy as everyone watched.

“Matais and Altair.” Ash replied, seeing no point in lying as neither of the two could kept their mouths shut.

“Where?” Alden asked, soothing the silk fabric of Kits traditional nixie drape, which had recently come into fashion with the arrival of a new king, they called them flows, as they hung off each limb of the body.

“In the woods.” Ash answered, moving towards the vanity that used to be Adaons to look at himself.

“Bullshit.” Alden declared, as Kit heaved once more into the wooden bucket.

“In the tent.” Ash muttered, Alden threw up his hands as Kit threw up his breakfast.

“Why would you go in there?! That was the one place Kieran told you not to go!” Alden scolded.

As Ash blandly ignored him and fixed his fabric in the mirror, the wooden door to the fae lantern lit room swung. In came both Denaruis, dressed in a flow as well, maroon and ebony and Kieran.

Since becoming King, the thing that has changed the most about the youngest son was his appearance, he had sunned the thought of how he had been dressed before, descended from years of cruelty, he had switched out the three piece ensemble that everyone had seen his father wear, and now regarded as a nixie head, an ivory and azure stained flow with a matching pair of opal earrings, and a stunning necklace.

His hair had even grown twice as long, now reaching the end of his shoulders, this time more wavy than ever.

“What is the matter?” He asked, coming around to the opposite side of the panel, bending down beside his nephew, ruffling Ashes silver blond hair well passing, who adjusted the ruby gem in the centre of his chest.

“Drinking is the matter.” Alden stated clearly, as Denaruis moved over to the large than normal round.

Not only had the fashion of the courts changed, but also the decor, Kierans first thought as King was to demolish the awful marble chairs that he had been informed no one had the guts to tell his father they did not like with a silver hanging chair, with handmade pillows, soft cushions and a table in the central.

“Who with?” Kieran asked, as Ash called Denaruis over with his hands to sit with him, bringing Adaons brush.

“Altair. In the tent.” Alden stated, as he got up and joined his honorary nephew and his brother.

“Are you fucking-?!” Kieran started.

“I love him so much and he hates me because I’m a dog murder!!” Kit suddenly came to.

“Ty?” Ash asked, who was now playing a game of cards with his uncles, which he always seemed to lose.

“It was just a dog.” Kieran stated, as the door to the room opened once more hastily as his mother came in.

“We replaced the dog.” Alden declared, slamming his cards down on the table and collecting his winnings.

She rushed over with a handfuls of fabric, bending next to the bucket and holding them out for Kieran to look over, as she did so she realized Kit was still heaving. She leaned down beside him and brushed his soft blond hair aside to avoid the vomit.

“It wasn’t just a dog. I yelled at him!” Kit cried as Thea slipped the sleeves of his vomit soaked flow off him.

“So, you yelled at him?” Alden questioned, shuffling the painted cards.

“He probably hates me!” Kit kept going, as Thea stood up and slid over to the wardrobe that had been a welcoming gift from the new kings many subjects, who upon seeing what he was capable of, wished to be.

“Why do you care so much about him? He is just a shadow hunter.” Denaruis asked, looking at his cards.

“Because I love him!” Kit sobbed, as Kieran stood but and moved over to his wooden wash table.

No one commented as Kieran pressed a cloth to his face to remove the mess, then Thea came behind him and slid an embroidered nightgown over his head, then down to his legs, helping him stand up on his feet.

“Do you love him or do you think to love you have to be in such pain?” Alden questioned, placing a card.

As Kieran helped him onto his bed, tucked him under the blankets, he wondered what the answer would be.

“No more drinking.” Kieran declared as he left the bed and joined his brothers on the floating seat.

After a few tosses and turns, the door opening and closing as Thea set out on her latest trend, Basil came in to gamble with a handful of coins, and finally General Winter came in to check on Kit, who he had watched try and keep up with Altair the alcoholic. He brassed his hand over Kits forehead, who glared at him.

“I helped him raise his sister from the dead.” Kit muttered, Winter leaned down to hear him.

“What do you mean you helped raise his sister from the dead?!” He shouted, Kieran and Alden whipped around.

“You raised his sister from the dead, what is wrong with you!!” Kieran shouted, swinging from his seat.

“I love him, Kieran.” Kit stated, as his uncle came and folded his knees in front of him.

“I know you do. What made you believe you had to do that?” Kieran wondered.

“Because he asked me to.” Kit whispered, looking deeply into Kierans saddened slate eyes.

From the seat, Ash swung off and came to join the two on the bed but not before removing his dirty boots.

“If he asked you do shoot yourself in the head would you do it?” Kieran asked, holding up the blanket for Ash

“If it saves him.” Kit muttered, Kieran shook his head disapprovingly, as Ash laid next to his brother.

As both Alden and Denaruis came over, Kit was certain he would shoot him self in the head for Ty. Tiberius.

“You must reflect for a moment on that thought, surely you would not go to such lengths for someone who would not even visit you well you here cooped up with those faceless freaks.” Denaruis shamed.

Yet on of those very same freaks had allowed him into his house, his life, his heart and he had packed up and left with the very same people he had been protecting him from long before he was born.

“He was going through a hard time.” Kit cleared, as Alden came to the left of him and soothed his head.

“When people go through a hard time they drink. When people change the foundations of their futures, they become someone else. Someone you may not know.” Winter declared, coming beside Kieran, who held Ashes hand as he fished with the rings on his fingers.

“I do know him.” Kit stated, relaxing into Alden’s hand as he messaged his scalp with his soft fingers.

“You have an unclear version of love I believe. People who love you would not ask for you to do such things.” Kieran stated, Kit thought back to the many times he had wished for love in that lonely house, waiting.

“I know what love is, I’m not stupid.” Kit shot, gazing his drunken eyes over the tapestry of animals over him.

“I did not say you were, Scoldia. What does love mean to you, in your heart? Have you ever felt it?” Kieran asked, as Winter watched Ash glare at Kit, Kit glare at the ceiling, Alden glare at Denaruis and Denaruis at him

“A lot more than you have.” Kit shot, Kieran, already a tad impatient, took a breath before losing it.

“You think so? Do you think love is being left for dead with a pack of wolves, do you think love is being locked in a house with no key? As a prince at a top of a tower you are. You have no context of love because you have never had it. Love is not leaving you alone for weeks because they could not deal with you. Being forced to take pictures in the bath, to be seen nude as a statue. Thrown against walls, punched in your jaw,burned with cigarettes where the eye does not meet, beaten with a belt until your back was raw at your refusal. Some people are not capable of love, Kit. If you had ever been given any you would know this.” Kieran finished, trying to raise his alarmed voice.

“We needed money.” Kit breathed as he turned into the feathered pillow beneath his head.

“You needed a father.” Kieran murmured, shaking his head.

“You need a father.” Kit drunkenly answered.

“I killed my father and for good reason.” Kieran stated, as Denaruis nodded in agreement.

“Well, I didn’t kill my dad. We aren’t the same.” Kit shoot.

“You didn’t have to. His vileness still seaps within you.” Kieran spat, standing from the bed back to the seat.

“I could say the same for you.” Kit argued, causing Ash to slap his shoulder slightly and Alden to back up.

“If you wish for me to say that I am an awful fae so be it. I am awful, I am vile, I am mean. I am aware of my actions, I have never claimed to deny them. I murdered my father, the father of my brothers. I would never go back and change what I have done. He was an absolute horrid man, an abusive father and an awful king. Every night I go to bed with the information that I have done it for the better.

Same goes for slitting Erecs neck open, I would do it every day over, because although they may not live forever, the memory of it will in my mind. I did not do it for just myself, I have done it for every one of the members of my tower, who have insured his rein. I have found them inner justice as I hope you can as well. Do not let your upbringing affect who you will become, because I know in my soul that you are much more than a monster, a dealer, a snake, an informant. If you never see yourself as more, you will never be more.”

“But that’s all I know, what if I’m not good at anything else?” What if that is all I’m ever going to be?”Kit asked, allowing his eyes to glaze over with the wine.

“You must stop thinking about who you were and start thinking of who you are.” Alden cleared.

“I don’t know who I am.” Kit hushed, looking towards his elder uncle as his eyes glazed over into sleep.

“You will find out as we all do, through error. I did not become General over a night. You must fail before you succeed. We will find a way to rid you of the ghosts of your pasts.” Winter cleared, as Kit remained silent.

“Why were you drinking to begin with?” Kieran asked, now turning to face Ash.

“He wished to, I simply came along. I did not drink.” Ash verbalized, as Kieran rolled his dark eyes.

“Why did he wish to drink?” Kieran questioned, forming a pleasant dream in his hands for his nephew.

“It ‘tis all he has ever known.” Ash muttered, leaning into Kits chest and falling asleep same as him.

[kingofthe-egirls]

FOX TALES: LUFFY x OC (Or, when LUFFY asks you to join his crew)

fox tales

(cw: original female character, kitsune oc, stealing, kitsune lore, mention of past dog bite/farmers)

(a/n: welcome to part 1!!!)

Songs: "Dress" by Charlotte Sands

words: 1k

You’re crouching in the dark next to a chicken coop, listening to see if the hens are asleep. Luffy is crouching behind you, having insisted on following you on your hunt.

“Shh!” You hiss, whirling around as Luffy steps forward, snapping a twig. Too much noise could wake the hens up. You point to your feet, for Luffy to follow. “Sneaky,” you whisper, “Like this.” You take a deep breath, center yourself, and melt through the air. Luffy inhales sharply.

“Kit,” he hisses, “Where’d ya go??”

“Right here, dumbass,” you rustle your fingers quickly so he can hear where you are. You weren’t used to having a partner.

“I can’t turn invisible, fox-tail. And I can’t see you at all!” he squints his eyes in the dark, waving around to try and find you.

“Here,” you whisper, grabbing one of his wrists. “And you can see me if you blur your eyes. Keep me at the edges of your vision,” you turn his cheek with one hand, so it was just the outer corner of his left eye that was facing you. “That’s how you see spirits with mortal eyes,” you say.

“Thanks,” he says, scrutinizing you with one eye, “It’s like opals.”

You blush, and drop his chin. “Just try to keep up, okay?” He nods, and you turn back to the chicken coop. There’s not a lot of noise from inside, besides some rustling of feathers. You duck inside the squat doorway. It smells like wet straw.

The first chicken clucks a bit as you dart your hand beneath the warm feathers, and close around an oval object. Quickly, you start filling your basket with eggs. Just enough to not be noticed, only one or two from each nest.

The floor creaks behind you.

“Hey, chicky!” Luffy stage-whispers to the first hen in the row. “Got any eggs?” He starts poking at the hen’s face, and she wakes up with a squawk. No!

“Hsst!” You spit through your teeth, grabbing Luffy’s wrist. The other hens have started rustling more, and you’re reminded of the farmer’s dog. Your forearm stings at the thought of the old bite wound he left you. “Cmon,” you growl, pulling Luffy out of the henhouse. “Time to go.”

You dash outside, Luffy protesting behind you. A quick glance up at the moon, and a portal opens in front of you. You step through. Luffy tumbles in after you.

“Fuck,” you groan as you shut it behind you again, now safe in your backyard. You stomp over to your fire pit, and set the eggs down none too gently. Two clack against each other and crack. “Ugh!” You shout, kicking over a log. You whirl around to Luffy, who’s standing brushing himself off. Laughing.

“How dare you be that loud!” You accuse, face hot. He looks up at you in surprise. “We could have gotten caught!”

He holds up his fists, casually. “I could’ve fought them!”

“I didn’t want you to fight them!” Your ears are flattened against your scalp, your tails whipping back and forth in anger. “You can’t just keep fighting things for me! You have to listen to what I say! I’m saying it for a reason!” Hot tears are flooding your vision. Luffy steps forward, but you keep going.

“I’ve been bitten by their dog before, Luffy! I’ve been chased by their pitchforks! I’m smart, and I’m clever,” you wrap your arms around yourself, squeezing hard. “But I need food.” The months of scraping by on scraps has left burn marks in your gut. Your breath comes in ragged sobs. “If we had gotten caught, they could have set the dog loose on us again, and then he’d have both our scents. Or worse, they’d start chaining him to the coop at night. And then what’ll I do? What’ll I do once you’re gone?” You spit the last word out like stone, shivering with cold. You want your coat.

“I’m sorry, Just Kit,” Luffy stands in front of you, serious. “I didn’t think about your future. Or the danger I could’ve put you in. But,” he lifts his chin up, “Why don’t you just keep some chickens here? Seems like a lotta trouble for just a few eggs.” He raises an eyebrow, a challenge.

You shake your head back and forth, vicious. “There’s no animals here, Straw Hat. Just half-spirits, like me. If I try to keep a chicken here it’ll just die,” your voice is flat, “I’ve already tried.” You sniff, and wipe at your eyes. You glance over at the black hen’s grave, a bickering old thing who’d caught sick within a week. “I’m surprised you’ve survived this long.”

“There’s no half-chickens?” Luffy cocks his head. You huff out a breath, an almost laugh. You rub a palm against your cheek.

“Not that I’ve seen,” you say, sniffling a bit. “But if you find one, lemme know. Maybe there’s a spirit chicken with eggs you could actually eat.”

Luffy knew how you’d gotten here. Half-feral and bloody, banished by the spirit world to a realm in between worlds. Alone. Half-mortal, suddenly, with a body you knew nothing about. Nothing to eat, needing to sleep, unable to pass through the veil to go home. Nowhere was home for you, but here. Stealing eggs and tracking moon cycles, learning how to live.

“Come with me,” Luffy says, “And you’ll never be alone again.”

****

“What?”

You stare. His mouth is set in a firm line, his brows drawn down hard over his eyes. Blood is rushing in your ears.

“Join my crew,” he says again, arms crossed. “I have the best cook in the world. He could make eggs for you. And our navigator would like you. She steals things too.” He tilts his chin up, “And I could use someone like you.”

You shift. “What do you mean?”

Crickets chirp in the night. The moon is bright overhead, casting brilliant white beams all over the yard.

Luffy gestures excitedly. “Your skill! I’ve never seen anything like that, vanishing in midair! You’re good at hiding, and thinking things through. You can paint, too.” He puffs his chest out proudly, “I think the king of pirates deserves an artist, don’t you? Who else will paint my portrait?” He grins, and then turns serious again as he faces you. “But you have to want to. You still haven’t said if you want to.”

The pond ripples in the moonlight.

“I’m a mess,” you hedge, scared. He nods.

“I know.”

“I’m half-fox.”

“So what? I’m half-rubber.”

“I cheat,” you say, desperate, “I lie and I steal.”

“Pirate life sounds perfect for you,” he walks closer to you, glaring down at you in challenge. You think he’s going to ask you for a duel. “Unless you’d rather rot here all alone?”

You bristle at his taunt, tails whipping back and forth. He’s in your face now, nose barely touching yours. “Well, fox-tails? What’ll it be?”

Your heart pounds. You’ve never left this place before. Not really. But your eyes sting at the thought of having someone to share stories with over a campfire. Not just anyone, though. A whole group of people. A whole crew.

“Yes,” you breathe, “I want to come with you. Please,” you hitch another sob, “Please take me with you! I don’t want to be alone anymore!”

Luffy tackles you in a bear hug. “I’m your captain now!” He laughs, triumphantly, “And I order you to come home with me!”

[lovelizards]

"I am not the good guy, alright?!"

Opal woke up with a start. Her body was covered in a fine sheen of cold sweat, and her muscles ached from the strain of the last two days. She'd hoped it was all a terrible, dark dream - and that she would wake up home again, with the smell of herbs and roses swirling on the breeze.

But she was still there. Still in an abandoned cottage in the middle of the dark woods. There were still chains on her ankles and her arm -

She touched the fresh scars gingerly. So the dark-haired man had given her a healing potion while she was unconscious...

He was sitting in the window, an elbow propped up on his knee, but he must have heard the shifting of her chains, because he glanced her way after a few moments.

"Drink this," he said, tossing her a waterskin.

Opal realised how thirsty she was, but it wasn't water inside, it was strong liquor. She coughed on it, sputtering as she pulled the drink away from her lips, and heard the dark-haired man laugh quietly.

"...My name is Opal..." she said, trying to catch his eye, "...what's yours?"

He didn't respond.

"My name is -"

"I heard you," he interrupted.

Opal faltered, the wine in her hands sloshing around from how badly she was trembling. She thought - or, hoped at least - that the worst of the pain was behind her.

"I live above the apothecary," she continued, trying to steady her voice, "and I grow rosehips and lavender in the garden."

More silence from the man.

She took a deep breath, and then another drink of the liquor. It tasted familiar, clearly dwarven-made. And its warmth burned in her cheeks.

"My mother was a human, you know," she said, groaning a bit as she shifted and sat back against the wall, "but she left after I was born. Not that I blame her, I just wish she'd taken me with her..."

Still nothing. Opal took another drink, the only place she could find her courage.

Maybe, if she...if she humanised herself to the dark-haired man...

"This drink...it's from the Green Moon Pub, isn't it? I used to go there sometimes, in the evening, with my..."

She faltered, catching her breath. How much of a lightweight had she become? Without realising it, she had started talking about...

But, the dark-haired man was finally looking at her.

She sniffed, rubbed her eyes, then took another long drink.

"I used to go there with my - my wife," she finally finished the sentence, bracing herself against the burn of tears in the back of her throat.

"That's enough," the dark-haired man said, but Opal could see his brows furrowing, and something akin to sympathy in his eyes.

So instead, she continued.

"Her name was Rosalind. She - she passed in the spring - she was an elf, you know, she should have lived forever - and we - together, we should have - "

"Stop talking."

" - but she got so sick. She got so sick, and it burned through her so fast - I - I didn't even get to say -"

"Shut up!"

Opal flinched, barely able to catch her breath as the dark-haired man came storming across the room.

He tore the drink away from her, throwing it to the ground and grabbing her wrist. His other hand slammed against the wall in a fist above her head.

"Please - " Opal choked out, " - I know you're not like him, I know you don't - want to do this -!"

"I said shut up!" He snapped, his anger sounding desperate, "You think telling me some shitty sob story will save you? Well, it won't! You know how many people I've kidnapped and sold!? More than I can count on my hands! I get paid for it, and I don't care about you! I - I am not the good guy, alright?!"

Opal stared up at him, sad, but not afraid.

"Then why heal me?" She asked quietly, "Why stop your friend from torturing me? Why offer me a drink?"

The dark-haired man stared at her for a long moment.

Then, he stood up, and sighed deeply.

"I may be a monster," he muttered, "but I'm not...a monster."

Opal held her wrist, her head bowed, and sniffed - probably looking and sounding like a pathetic wreck.

"What happens to the people you sell...?"

It was a question she hadn't even wanted to think about.

The dark-haired man took up his seat in the window again, and from his wineskin, he took a long drink.

"Don't know."

His answer was like the strike of a whip.

Opal hid her face, heated from the alcohol, in her hands. Tears trickled through her fingers, her shoulders shook, but her sobs were silent.

She couldn't escape.

Not from the dark-haired man, and not from her own sorrow.

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