#I'm only a few chapters into the first game so this is all subject to change and all that

[silverselfshippingchaos]

this guy i'm unfortunately attracted to is pretty popular with the ladies too... I hate to inflate his ego any more than it already is, but... he got me.

[stxrvel]

remorse (5)

series summary. the holy grail of the seven men who ruled the country's entertainment used to be your friends at school. now, ten years later and between successes and failures, what reason would they have to want to come back into your life? pairing. eventually ot7 x f!reader... or not? content. first of all, english is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes! curse words, flashback, a lot of remorse, fights, stubborn people, lack of communication, angst. a/n. its finally here. i haven't re read this chapter bc im almost falling asleep and i have to work tomorrow, but i'll give this one another look in the weekend. a friend of mine helped me with the traduction bc i'm really really burnt out rn. also, chapters names changed!! i hope you guys like this one! see you on the next one🫶🏻

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“Oppa…”

Yoongi raised his head, his body leaning toward the piano acknowledging your presence in the room, and you could tell how he was physically struggling to move away from the instrument. Under his watchful gaze, you walked in his direction shuffling your feet, with a pitiful expression and every intention of openly complaining to one of the elders in your group of friends. But you relaxed your expression when you were a few steps away, recognizing his notebook on the piano lid and the trail of ink between his fingers at a safe distance from the keys.

His laughter confused you, and when you looked up, his lips were curved into a pretty smile. It was annoying. He was only two years older than you.

“What happened now?”

You remembered that you had come with a purpose, but your mind, as evasive and suggestible as ever, found more interest in what your eyes had caught.

“The usual,” you barely commented, moving to sit on your legs in front of Yoongi. “Were you writing?”

Yoongi glanced over to find his notebook, his shoulders shaking in a sigh because he knew he wouldn't be able to escape this conversation now that you had discovered him.

“Something like that…”

“Can I see it?”

“It's nothing decent. I don't think it's prudent.”

You pressed your lips together at his response, letting your shoulders droop, disappointed. But it was what you had expected; after all, Yoongi was quite secretive about his notebook, and it was rare for him to let you get this close and know so much about him. Even though you had probably known each other since you learned to swim and multiply, and surely knew more skeletons in his closet than he would like to admit, Yoongi still had a reluctance to show you or anyonw his writings. You had to catch him at a very relaxed moment.

So you set aside your emotions, not allowing Yoongi to respond as you pouted, and crossed your arms while turning your head away.

“Taehyung and Jungkook got so competitive on the court that they kicked us all out,” you frowned, remembering how the two had rushed past you and stolen the ball in the blink of an eye, moving so quickly and with cheeky laughter that you barely understood what was happening until you saw them tussling with the ball in front of the scoring area.

They were already in extracurricular hours, and although everyone had subjects to study and delve into, they decided to take a moment to take advantage of the fact that the school court would be empty and play for a while. Jin and Namjoon had left the game after two quarters because they simply couldn't keep up, and since one was in your group with Jimin and the other with the two kings of competition that day, they decided to kick them out and leave them as referees along with Hobi, who was the initial one.

Surprisingly, Yoongi also didn’t attend the game or his extracurricular class, choosing to get lost in the music room, taking advantage of the fact that it was empty that day because classes ended early.

“I don’t understand why they have to ruin everyone’s fun.”

Your little thirteen-year-old self, ignorant of many aspects of life, could only cross her arms and complain. Yoongi smiled, his two extra years of age giving him an understanding that perhaps you didn’t have access to, because it was inconceivable to you that such a sacrilege could be considered funny. Basketball hours were sacred!

“They're just messing around.”

“Oppa, you should've seen how they were pushing each other,” you shook your head, refusing to believe that Yoongi really wanted to defend them. “If you had been there, you could've stopped them.”

“And Jin?”

“He was laughing with them.”

“Ah,” Yoongi turned his head. “So the second best option was me?”

You shrugged. “Well, I thought I could convince you to go to the court, but…”

“But…?” Yoongi rested a hand on the bench, leaning in to see you on the floor.

“Maybe it’s more fun to listen to you play the piano.”

You smiled brightly, intertwining your fingers while Yoongi wore a half-smile. Without responding, he straightened up again, adopting the posture he had when you saw him through the glass of the door, before you interrupted his concentration. His fingers danced in the air for a few seconds, touching the notes in his head, recalling sound after sound, until the pressure on them gave way to a melody unknown to you.

It had to be a new piece, a new composition in his notebook. Yoongi played, calm and serene, focused and absorbed, letting the sound flow as if it came directly from nature.

Seeing Yoongi like this was… a strange event. Later, as time passed, you would think it was unbearable to have to see him everywhere, to hear his name around every corner, but at that moment you were lost in him, absorbing the sounds of his mind that his fingers materialized on the piano, allowing yourself to be carried away by the tide of his emotions, the way he conveyed so many words with his touches. The fast and slow notes, the change of tempo, all so meticulously created and organized to send a message, to describe an emotion, to paint a scene.

Yoongi was scared. Perhaps nervous, even. When he finished his piece, you could only look at him in awe, his shoulders moving a little faster due to the intensity with which he finished, keeping his head down, as if processing what he had just done. His fear was palpable, his hopelessness and unease.

“Oppa?”

“I don’t know…” he paused, dropping the lid over the keys and taking a calmer posture. “I don’t know if I’ll do the right thing when I graduate.”

“Why?” your brow furrowed, and you leaned forward in concern. “You’ve always talked about it. And you have a lot of talent, oppa, I know you’ll make it.”

Yoongi gave a nearly pained smile, as if he understood something you had no idea about.

“Jin is going to medical school.”

“I know. But it’s what he’s passionate about,” you moved closer to your friend, trying to give him some of the support he always gave you. “Isn’t music what you’re passionate about?”

The black-haired boy frowned. The answer was clear in his eyes, in the way he played the piano until he was breathless, but the gestures of his doubts were there too: when his fingers trembled with anxiety, his eyes gaining more shine as the seconds passed.

“Oppa,” you called, trying to break the silence, trying to prevent his thoughts from eating him alive. “If it’s what you love, you’ll succeed. I’m sure of that.”

You saw how the haze in his eyes disappeared, his features relaxing at least a little.

“I probably only have your support. I’ll have to rely on that.”

His small smile constricted your heart. In that moment, you didn’t know what you could do to show him that it was enough, but you were also unaware of the reality that his words held. It was probably due to your age, the age difference with Yoongi, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that he would never be completely satisfied with that. You wondered if it was about you, just for a second, recalling the way he smiled when some of the other boys gave him words of encouragement.

Maybe he was just more vulnerable with you than with the others, but a thirteen-year-old's reasoning didn't go that far.

With your foolish conclusion, you came home that day with a heavy heart.

-

Speaking of loose ends and unresolved issues, there were some specific people who deserved to take home the award and the crown for the most intrigue of the century. Because when you entered Choi Dohyun's office, with Seojun and Yuna on either side, even knowing that there were things still pending answers and others you could barely understand, the last thing you expected was for those you weren’t even aware of to suddenly materialize, like a kick to the stomach.

But keeping your head high and your composure was something you had lacked the last time, and thus, against all odds, your face showed no emotion when you caught a glimpse of Min Yoongi storming out of the office looking angry, not even when his eyes moved towards your figure and his wires crossed for a millisecond, betraying his movements. The sound of his shoes against the floor didn’t even distract you, keeping your gaze fixed on the man who appeared behind the door, with a huge smile on his face and eyes that screamed that signing this contract might take more from you than it would give.

Min Yoongi flanked you, a nearly imperceptible gasp of surprise escaping him as you passed by his side, not even giving him a glance of acknowledgment over your shoulder, as if he were less than a mere insignificant dust particle, and he collected himself as best he could to keep walking, ignoring the astonished looks your companions shot him.

You flashed the biggest smile, a feeling of anger settling deep in your stomach, and you shook hands with Choi Dohyun, who was cheerfully introducing himself with a voice an octave higher than usual.

You didn’t miss the way he shot a glance down the hallway, where Min Yoongi should have been disappearing, and the bitter sensation in your throat intensified.

“Well, don’t take it the wrong way, I’m very happy because we finally have this,” Yuna beamed, raising the envelope with the contract as if it were her most cherished possession, just as they exited the large publishing house and the cool afternoon air greeted them, “but did we just see the damn Min Yoongi leave that office?”

You simply sighed, feeling the tension radiate from your brother’s body, who hadn’t separated from you since the moment you were ushered away by Choi Dohyun's secretary.

“That was… wow. I don’t even have words.”

Seojun rolled his eyes, and you had to suppress the urge to pinch his side when Yuna turned to look at you with the envelope in her hands while you all waited to see your father’s blue car navigate the avenue.

“Do you think… this means we’ll have more opportunities to meet the seven gods of Olympus than most people?”

Her smile made you feel nauseous, but out of her ignorance, you could do nothing but try to mimic it. Seojun, on the other hand, was making nothing but irritated faces.

“Maybe, if you work harder.”

Yuna let out another squeal of excitement, and you took a deep breath when she turned around to look at the cars again. Seojun wrapped his arm around yours, glaring at anyone who came too close, even by accident.

Your friend kept murmuring in disbelief, and all you could think was that she was probably holding in her hands the worst decision you had ever made.

-

Whatever the reason for your encounter with Min Yoongi, you had deduced that your bad luck came down to being out of the house. Putting a foot outside the holy altar of your home was proving lethal for your emotional stability, so you spent the rest of the day locked up, managing your social media and overseeing deliveries.

Dohyun had agreed that the publishing house would handle the entire printing, packaging, and shipping process of the books, as purchases were only growing with each passing day. His real offer was to leave you with nothing to do but continue planning your stories, because at that moment, you were a goldmine for him.

“Unbelievable! Jung Hoseok revealed the truth behind the distancing of the Korean entertainment dynasty.”

The voice coming from Yuna’s phone caught your attention. You lifted your head from the blank document on your computer screen, glancing sideways at your friend, who was comfortably sprawled on your bed with a furrowed brow and a conflicted expression, as intrigued as she was worried about what she had just heard.

“These past few days have been tough for the kings of entertainment, as the last public sighting of them was over a week ago when Kim Namjoon, Min Yoongi, and Jeon Jungkook left the businessman’s building and enthusiastically greeted all their fans. As good followers, we know it’s too strange not to see them often, and the last time this happened was when Jung Hoseok had the accident that prevented him from continuing to play professional tennis.”

Yuna looked intensely focused, biting her nail and awaiting the climax of the video. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, but you couldn’t deny you were a bit curious about what news they would share, knowing that the boys weren’t ones to openly discuss their private matters.

“With their reputations at stake and rumors flying back and forth [how exaggerated], Jung Hoseok had to come out to clarify the situation. His official statement, which was informally published on the famous app Whotalks, said: ‘We’re all fine. Please be patient with us.’ Whether his statement implies misunderstandings among friends that are in the process of being resolved or if we should wait for an official statement from their leader, we’re not sure. But it’s concerning the—”

“Why would they make such a big deal about this if they aren’t even sure what that post implies?”

Yuna paused the video, giving you a confused look, surely thinking you were immersed in whatever you were doing on the computer (nothing), too busy to pay attention to these “insignificances,” as you used to say.

“Y/N, you really have no idea of the magnitude of power these men hold over the entertainment industry. With a snap of their fingers, they could shake everything.”

“And why did they get so much power?”

“They earned it. Through their hard work.”

You couldn’t help the huff that escaped you. You didn’t find what Yuna had said funny because it was true; they had worked incredibly hard to achieve what they had at that moment. At least you knew that their beginnings had been humble. But it annoyed you, inevitably, because you couldn’t control the resentment shaking in your chest. Healing my ass, you hadn’t forgotten anything from the last few years, no matter how much you wanted to convince yourself otherwise. So much effort to force them out of your life, only for them to find a way to disrupt it again in a week as if they had some right.

What a bunch of audacious—

“Oh. A message came in.”

Your friend sat up on the bed, and you sent her a confused look.

“Messages come in every second, Yuna.”

“It’s from a verified account.”

Without lifting her gaze in your direction, you froze in your chair.

“Oh—”

Oh no.

“No fucking way—” Yuna stood up in the bed, exclaiming loudly: “Kim Taehyung is in your DM's!”

“Tell him to go to hell.”

“¿¿Huh??”

The words slipped out before you could think twice. From the tense way the words left your mouth, you could tell Yuna was torn between asking more or simply contradicting you. Her eyes moved from the screen to your face, her fingers moving almost imperceptibly over the device.

“You know, every time you make it harder to understand what’s going on with these people.”

Finally, she locked her phone and dropped it on one of your pillows. You had never been a fan; your friend understood that. She had never questioned you about it… except for that random afternoon in this same room when she asked too many questions, but after the encounter with Yoongi that afternoon, you wondered what moment or what would need to happen for her to stop believing that it was just a matter of taste differences and for you to have to tell her the truth.

Before everything that happened a week ago, you had never considered it necessary to talk about it because so much time had passed, and you believed you were at a point where things related to them really didn’t affect you anymore, nor would you ever have to interact with them again to warrant giving your friend a statement. But of course, things were different now, and emotions would continue to clash with one another, and you hated to think that their attitudes meant they were trying to return to your life, or at least get involved to some extent, which would imply, strongly, that you would have to tell Yuna what had happened.

“Have you ever thought that you might have run into him if you had gone to the convention?”

“Yeah...” you sighed in defeat. It was impossible not to consider that alternative, how things might have turned out. If you would still have this overwhelming resentment in your chest or if they would have carved their way back into your heart once more.

The foolish you at eighteen would be thrilled right now.

“And even with that doubt... don’t you have even a little curiosity about what he says?”

You preferred not to, to be honest. You would rather just rip out every memory from your head with tweezers to be able to return to a semi-normal life, where your biggest worry should be saving enough for a trip and not when those damn lunatics were going to leave you alone.

But you found yourself stretching out your arm to take the phone when Yuna handed it to you, a grimace of insecurity settling on your face.

“I’m not going to ask,” Yuna spoke, and you sent her a glance just as she turned on the bed and took her own phone to continue watching her celebrity gossip. “I’m not going to pressure you.”

You didn’t respond. You lowered your gaze to the device in your hands, feeling a mix of relief and bitterness. Well, at least she had given you the opportunity to worry about that later.

The screen lit up, and there it was. A new message from Kim Taehyung.

thv Hi. It’s Jimin.

Huh?

You ?

The read notification arrived almost instantly after you replied. With your brow furrowed, you watched the bubble appear from his side of the chat.

thv I’m sorry for writing from Tae’s account, but you blocked me

Ah. Ah. Right.

After receiving the notification that Jungkook had followed you a few days ago, and especially because he had shown up at your work out of nowhere short after that, you had blocked everyone else with an Instagram account, just to be safe.

A small detail.

You Oh, yeah

That Jimin was trying to contact you, considering the context of the whole situation, wasn’t too outrageous. When you studied together, apart from being the first to start teasing others and fostering friendly banter, he was also the first to try to fix things because he couldn’t stand hostile and tense environments. It’s not that you thought he had a chance to fix anything now, but maybe you were a little interested in what he had to say. After several days, it was inevitable not to feel curious, right?

After the bubble appeared and disappeared several times, the message finally arrived.

thv Do you think we could talk in person?

You No.

thv I promise it'll just be me

You No.

thv It can be anywhere you choose

You I said no If you have something to say, write it If you don’t have anything interesting to say, then I’m going to block this account too

thv No Wait Okay.

The sound of Yuna’s phone had faded into the background of your mind. You kept your eyes on the typing bubble, fearing that maybe Jimin would change his mind and decide not to respond to the questions swirling in your head. Now that he was being so persistent, you were more eager to know. I mean, it was the least you deserved, right? Some kind of answer, some kind of reason, a why. Something to explain everything, because the root of that growing resentment in your chest was due to their lack of communication, to their ease in discarding you like a worthless piece of paper, not even caring if the air swept you away or the rain destroyed you.

They owed you something, and you had the right to an answer. You could have moved on, yes; you thought you had, yes; living with resentment in your heart affected a person’s life, yes... but God would be the only living being on earth and in the universe who wouldn’t feel even a pinch of pain for everything that had happened. For the inexplicable disappearance, for the disconnection, for the destruction of an incredible blind trust that was woven with that friendship you believed to be unconditional but ended up being one-sided. Who could really blame you for being cautious of them?

If when you cultivated that friendship, that friendly love, the fruits they returned to you were rotten, how could you simply trust? Who could?

thv I’m sorry for what happened. I know this was very abrupt, and it must have been strange for you

Strange, for lack of a better word. Strange was a euphemism.

thv I apologize on behalf of everyone.

You I’m not interested

thv If we could meet in person, I could explain better

You I’m not interested. That wouldn’t change anything.

thv I know this goes beyond what happened this week, but I don’t want you to have a bad impression

You You’re a damn audacious one, Jimin Do you think it’s only the latest thing that would make me see you all negatively? Is that the only thing you’ve done? Or well, what you haven’t done either

thv Okay, I expressed myself very poorly I know we were already on bad terms before; I meant that I didn’t want it to get worse

You Well, honestly, I didn’t think it could get worse until now.

thv I’m making it worse

You Wow, apparently you do have awareness and common sense For many years, I thought you lacked that

You blocked the phone, letting it drop onto the table, your heart racing because of the audacity that man had to refer to what had happened as if it were just a silly childhood memory, as if it had simply been a stupid basketball game where you weren’t allowed to play. That only reinforced your thinking, the only plausible reason you had given life to over the past few years, the only explanation you had for their disappearance: that they never cared about you as much as you did about them; that you were never truly fundamental in their lives. Because, come on, they had built a friendship and shared memories before you appeared on the scene; they knew each other beforehand with a depth you could never reach, long before your name reached their ears. They had a connection; you were never ignorant of that; there was something in them that kept them united, something that made them understand each other almost on a spiritual level, and naively, you believed they had made you a part of it; that you had managed to be part of that connection.

But no, it was never like that. It was always one-sided. Whether you were a game, a case of charity, or someone they simply couldn’t say no to, you had no idea, but none of those options felt too foreign to reality. Especially considering the way Jimin referred to the past as if it had been a child's game and nothing more. There was never more for them. You should've known that.

thv I’m really sorry, y/n I truly wish I could talk to you in person I promise I can explain many things

His messages shone on the lock screen, and more than feeling curious again, you felt rage. So now they could talk. Now they could fucking communicate. Where was that willingness ten years ago? Five years ago, even? You never thought you would see any of them so willing to offer you what you had longed for, maybe at least to finally bring closure to the whole situation.

But you didn’t want to give them the right to become the victims in this situation. They had time to do something, yes, now you knew, and they simply chose not to; it was high time you really let it go. Let them go. What would an explanation fix now? When, if there was still something of the friendship you built, it should've crumbled to dust. Their willingness now meant nothing. If you ever saw any of them again, you would rather rip their hair out in a fit of rage.

You Fuck you Fuck all of you

And you blocked Taehyung’s account.

Anticipating any possibility, you also blocked Jungkook and hoped that would be the end of it.

Finally, you would try to seek true healing, because it was about damn time.

-

You y/n, I'm so sorry y/n? y/n????????????????

Oh no. Taehyung's going to kill me.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Speaking of the king of Rome.

Park Jimin flinched, tightening his fingers around the phone he was holding, which clearly wasn’t his, literally caught red-handed. He swallowed hard when his friend’s footsteps drew closer, circling around to face what he feared most.

“Jimin...” Taehyung began, his confused expression turning into caution, quickly shifting his gaze between the phone and the wide-eyed blonde. “Tell me you didn’t do it.”

Jimin shrank even more, pursing his lips, realizing there was no escape. In his defense, he had fervently believed for a moment that he would succeed. Taehyung hadn’t agreed from the start, especially given how angry Yoongi had been that afternoon when he arrived at the penthouse and how he had locked himself in Namjoon’s office, and the tone of their voices hadn’t diminished for even a second, especially not when Jin arrived an hour later.

Taehyung and Jimin weren’t sure what had happened, but considering the recent events, they could make an educated guess.

It all led back to you.

They were surely paying for what they did.

“I told you it was a terrible idea!” Taehyung strode closer and snatched the phone from Jimin’s tightly clenched hands. Jimin let out a defeated sigh, sinking back against the couch as Taehyung began to scroll through the messages, growls escaping his throat.

“I didn’t think she’d be so...”

Jimin hesitated, and when he turned to look at his friend, his furrowed brow silently asked, “are you serious?”

Another defeated sigh escaped him.

“You’re not fixing anything. If Namjoon finds out about this...”

Taehyung didn’t finish his sentence, but Jimin understood. But could any of them really blame him? Let he who is without sin cast the first stone! No one was a saint in that place when it came to you. At least he had the decency to try to explain things when the others just charged in as if nothing had ever happened (for now, Taehyung and Jungkook, simply because he still had no idea what had happened with Yoongi).

The problem, of course, was that Jimin was better at comforting someone in person than through messages.

“There's no going back from this.” Taehyung murmured, still focused on the screen. The shine in his eyes gave Jimin an idea of what was going through his mind, and he remained silent until Taehyung looked up. “We really messed up.”

“Did you need this reality check?”

“Did you?” Taehyung frowned. “I don’t know why you expected a different response.”

“Well, what did you expect to happen doing what you did?”

Jimin watched his friend click his tongue.

“What did you expect me to do? I didn’t think it would snowball like this.” Taehyung shook his head, and Jimin barely recalled with a shudder how the atmosphere had felt in the penthouse after Tae had posted that story about your books on his Instagram. “I just wanted...”

Once again, Taehyung chose to remain silent, but in his absence of words, Jimin understood.

To make up for it.

“Obviously, I’m not going to say anything,” Taehyung added, shooting a sideways glance at his blonde friend. “After whatever happened with Yoongi, I don’t even want to imagine how Namjoon would react if he finds out about this.”

“If he finds out what?”

Jimin and Taehyung froze on the couch, watching through the reflection of the TV as the person appeared behind them before they could recognize the friendly yet concerned tone.

Jung Hoseok circled the couch, clearly troubled by what he had just heard. It was evident he had just returned from practice because his hair was wet and he looked somewhat flustered, his cheeks flushed despite the chilly weather that night. He dropped his training bag on one of the armchairs, and Jimin averted his gaze when he caught his friend's eyes. It wasn't that they usually kept secrets and tiptoed around the others, but ever since Jungkook had pulled that stunt of searching for you at work when Namjoon had expressly forbidden it, the waters between them had been a bit tense, and any topic involving you could explode any healthy and cooperative conversation in seconds.

Hoseok crossed his arms, allowing his cheerful expression at finally arriving at the penthouse to fade completely, hardening his features as he shot a stern look at the two young men.

Taehyung also averted his gaze. The moment he heard Hoseok's voice, he tucked the phone between his legs and probably looked tenser than he should have. He, just like Jimin, didn’t dare meet Hoseok’s eyes at that moment. Because Hobi had stopped at the door, and with whom they had in front of them, they couldn't hesitate. They both knew it, they both understood.

And Hoseok knew very well. He was aware of all the tricks the two shared and could sense from their silence that they were up to something. Besides, of course, their conversation had been overly revealing. They had to be thankful it was him who arrived in the midst of their confessions, and of course, he would demand to have a conversation of such gravity with such freedom.

But no, in that house, secrets were not kept.

“If he finds out what?” Hoseok emphasized the words, urging the stubborn young men to keep their mouths shut.

Hoseok then exhaled through his nose in a sigh.

“Is it about y/n?”

Jimin and Taehyung lifted their gazes, a bit tempted but diverting their eyes as if pretending to be uninterested. While the atmosphere had been very tense lately, Hoseok and Jin had kept themselves somewhat distanced from all that unease, mainly because their demanding jobs kept them away from the penthouse most of the time. Namjoon, for his part, couldn’t escape the topic as easily since he had an office at home, initially to monitor them in a healthy way, and now because he felt the need to keep an eye on each of them to prevent them from doing something stupid.

Yoongi... well, maybe he had tried to stay on the sidelines, but he had clearly failed miserably if he had ended up arguing with Namjoon and Jin.

“What did you guys do now?”

Hoseok's severe tone was chilling. Jimin remembered the times he had decided to participate in his dance classes, the few that he taught personally each month, and how he had felt Hoseok’s sharp gaze and his blunt comments about his steps in front of all the students. It was as if he became another person. Although it was terrifying, the two young men admitted it was refreshing to see him like that in the academy, because he had lost a bit of his spark since his accident. Before, he only looked that serene and committed when he was at his tennis practice.

At that moment, however, Jimin and Taehyung appeared more reluctant despite his severe attitude, because they didn’t know if he would spill the beans to Namjoon afterward.

“And what happened with Yoongi?”

The slight softness in his tone made Jimin lift his head. Still with his arms crossed over his chest, Hoseok sat across from them at the table in the center of the room.

Jimin sighed, and Taehyung shot him an alarmed look. Are we really going to give in this quickly?!

“We don’t know what happened with Yoongi. He just arrived in the afternoon, locked himself in the office with Namjoon, and they wouldn’t stop arguing. Then Jin came in, but that didn’t make them stop.”

Hoseok looked up, scanning the hallway. Now the house was silent, perhaps more grave and tense than usual. Hoseok didn’t know how it had come to this and hadn’t sensed that atmosphere immediately.

“Is Jin here?”

“I think he’s in his room,” Taehyung replied, shifting on the couch. “He stormed out of the office a while ago.”

Hoseok grimaced at the mere thought, causing a shiver.

“Then it is about y/n.”

Jimin and Taehyung once again averted their gazes.

“Oh, come on.” Hoseok uncrossed his arms, more frustrated than angry at that moment for not being able to fully understand what was causing so many arguments among his friends. “I’m not going to go talk to Namjoon later, regardless of what you tell me. I just want to understand.”

The two young men exchanged a glance, Hoseok believed, communicating mentally. It was always strange but interesting how those two could understand each other at such a level that often they didn’t even need a look. They could support each other's ideas without overthinking it, just like they were doing at that moment in front of him, and Hoseok couldn’t help but think that this topic could cause them more harm than they realized. That these two were even hesitant to share something with him now, fearing to do so, considering whom they could trust or not, spoke volumes about how this issue was being handled and it was not healthy at all.

Hoseok didn’t know that Namjoon had been arguing. The only time he had talked about that topic with the others was when Jungkook’s incident happened, because by crossing such a clear and blatant line, Namjoon saw the need to have a group meeting to set some ground rules. But whatever had continued to happen that he was unaware of was creating cracks in the trust of all the members, and that didn’t sit well with him at all.

“I wrote to her on Taehyung’s Instagram,” Jimin began, looking down with his hands intertwined on his legs. “And I might have made things a lot worse...”

“Might have?” Taehyung turned to look at the blonde, who barely raised his head to meet his gaze before Hoseok interrupted.

“And what did you say to her?”

Jimin pressed his lips together. “I asked if we could meet in person, and when she said no, I just tried to apologize for everything.”

“Don’t forget that you proceeded to carry out a rather undisguised gaslighting.” Taehyung added.

“I didn’t manipulate her!”

“You spoke to her as if everything that happened didn’t matter at all!”

“That’s not how it was! I just expressed myself very poorly,” Jimin exclaimed, facing Taehyung’s accusations, who remained with his arms crossed and chin raised, clearly in disagreement with him. “You, more than anyone, know that I don’t communicate well through text.”

“Because you overthink everything. You didn’t even need to text her in the first place. I told you it was a terrible idea. Now she hates us even more!”

“Did she say that?” Hoseok intervened.

Taehyung gave him a disbelieving look.

“And I quote: fuck all of you.”

Hoseok took a deep breath, trying to process the situation. Taehyung looked angry, and Jimin appeared offended that Taehyung was so upset about what he had done, in addition to misrepresenting his words, if Hoseok understood correctly. But the brown-haired guy had a point: it had indeed been a terrible idea, and Namjoon would lose all his hair if he found out. He understood Jimin’s motivation for trying to reach out, but Hoseok felt Jimin had lost some tact in the process by approaching you just to find a quick solution. Clearly, the atmosphere in the penthouse was affecting everyone, and not in a good way. He couldn’t judge or blame Jimin for trying to lighten the situation for both parties, even if he could have approached it differently.

So Hoseok sighed, understanding the magnitude of the problem they had, and turned to the two young men who were now looking at him attentively, after recently avoiding his gaze as if their lives depended on it.

“How did you think you were going to meet her with the level of fame you have?”

Hoseok knew Jimin had acted on impulse, and perhaps addressing the underlying reasoning would make him think better next time, if there was one.

Jimin opened his lips slightly, confused.

“I... I don’t know, but I would've found a way.”

Taehyung scoffed. That would have been impossible because, surely, only after Jungkook, Jimin was one of the most recognizable faces in the industry and, therefore, couldn’t walk freely down the streets without having a horde of fans behind him within seconds. If, for some divine reason, you had agreed to meet with Jimin, then he would have exposed you too much to the public eye and you would have had more problems before getting any answers.

“There’s no way, Jimin.” Hoseok spoke, as the blonde shot a fierce look at his brown-haired companion. “We’re no longer in a small town.”

The two young men turned to the elder, putting their silly squabbles aside. A feeling of nostalgia and longing filled the air, embracing them and bringing to the surface poorly buried memories in the gardens of their minds; the gusts of Hoseok’s words uncovered them easily.

“We can’t afford that luxury now. We lost the opportunity a long time ago.” Hoseok reminded them, with a hint of discord in his voice.

Taehyung hated remembering those times. Having had his hands tied, sealing his mouth voluntarily, believing he had no other option... it completely sickened him. For a long time, regret had physically drained him.

“I won’t talk to Namjoon, don’t worry.” Hoseok assured them, and although the two young men should've breathed with relief, the truth was that they already felt too shaken. “But be more careful about where you talk about these things.”

“What things?”

“Fuck!”

Taehyung jumped off the couch when the voice came from his right, being the closest to the source. The three friends turned to see Yoongi, walking down the hallway from his room to the main living area of the penthouse.

“Are you guys sharing secrets?”

Instead of being scared, Jimin and Taehyung fell back onto the couch, letting out an exhausted breath. Yoongi shot a confused look at Hoseok, who returned it with a more severe expression.

“Come here, Yoongi. We need to talk.”

-

i hope you guys enjoyed! and thanks to my friend for helping my unresponsive overworked ass.

[Friend: I don't know if the tags worked. I'm sorry!]

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[tiredmamaissy]

Ralak te Sepawn ieyk’itan: Special Episode VI 

Labor of Love - Part I

Masterlist ; Rut/Heat/Knotting Info

🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞

Hyperlinks are attached to specific paragraphs that when clicked on will lead you to its illustration by Ralak's insanely talented creator @zestys-stuff. Thank you so much for allowing me to play around with your characters!

Characters: Metkayina!Ralak (25) x Sully!Omaticaya!Reader (20) featuring Metkayina!Zu’té (29)

Warnings: this shit has zero smut, angst angst angst, did i say angst?, this is so dramatic i'm sorry, expletives, a bit of fluff, pregnancy, cliff hanger, let me know if i forgot anything

Word Count: 8k 

Requested: Yes || No

Author’s Note: You are now entering angst town, please buckle your seatbelts and try to enjoy the ride. Jokes aside, GUYS. This chapter…is the most angsty thing I’ve ever written. I’m excited and nervous, and everything in between. There’s a lot going on in this chapter and I just hope to Eywa that I’ve written it in a way that flows and is easy to follow. I’ve had this idea brewing for months, it feels. Now…this shit was over 20,000 words long. That is a personal record and I will not be subjecting you guys to such a monstrosity. Therefore, this is part one of (at the moment) three. I apologise in advance for the cliffhanger, hehe. Also, welcome to my brain, because idk how I came up with this shit. 

Synopsis: You didn’t foresee this, Ralak kept you in the dark for the sake of you and your baby’s safety. But now the time has come, it’s all too overwhelming for you to process. 

<- Previous-> Next

Ralak never shared more than he needed to when it came to his duties with Tonowari. No matter how much you vowed to keep it confidential. He’s a man of few words, but when it came to his business he kept them fewer.

As much as you knew, his trips inland consisted of hunting and gathering bigger game that most warriors struggled to handle.

There's a few times you can count on one hand that he's come home a little more worn down. Each time you cursed Tonowari under your breath as you helped your mate unwind. You’d insist on knowing what the olo’eyktan had him doing to be so spent and why he had not entirely fulfilled his promise to lighten Ralak of his duties since the mating.

Ralak would be quick to shut you down in the most gentle way despite feeling irritable and sombre. It was always something along the lines of, ‘it keeps you safe, and that is my duty’, and that he’ll ‘discuss it when the time comes’.

It seems the time has come. 

Another gloomy night, rain and thunder tear through the sky. These storms are more frequent in this season, as it’s Ewyas way of keeping the balance with the freshwater and seawater ratio for the mangroves.

But tonight it’s torrential. You’re in full bloom, ready to step into your new chapter of motherhood at any moment. The babe sits low in your womb and you’re swollen from what feels like head to toe. The rain isn’t helping with the soreness in your joints. 

Ralak is seated next to the crackling firepit, stirring the bubbling stew with one hand and mindlessly rubbing your swollen ankles with the other. Meanwhile you lay snuggled in bed, wrapped comfortably in the thick shawl as you listen to the pitter-patter. It’s peaceful, despite the dull ache in your lower back. Maybe the rain isn’t so bad, after all. 

Ta-toom!

The low-pitched sound of the war horn has Ralak's full attention, shredding him of whatever serenity he had in his being. Moving hastily, he stands and darts over to the marui door, slipping into his gear and fixing his largest spear on his back.

The scene unfolding before your eyes is a rare one. You’d only seen him in full gear on the day you first laid eyes on him. The day you arrived here in Awa’atlu. And it brings a sinking feeling to your stomach.

“Ralak… what was that?” You ask nervously.

You watch him aggressively tighten the strap of his tstalsena [knife sheathe; carrier] and chuck a bucket of water in the fire—killing the flame. A precautionary measure. He knows the time has come. He hears your voice but he also hears Tonowari's...

'When the horn sounds… you come. And that…is an order.'

In his head, he’s going through an array of possible responses but there’s simply no time for any of them. Using the frame of the bed to pull yourself up, you slowly come to your feet and waddle towards him.

“Ralak. What is going on?” You ask a little louder, a hand gripping his wrist. 

Turning to face you, his hands fly to support your stomach as he looks you deeply in the eyes. Then he kisses you with purpose. Pressing his lips into yours like it would be the last time, forcing himself to pull away to briefly glance down at his unborn.

It catches you by surprise, leaving you looking up at him open mouthed. Now you’re really scared. It feels like he’s being plucked away from your fingers and there’s nothing you can do about it. “Ralak—”

“I will explain when I am back. All of it.” He already sounds out of breath, fixing the shawl over your shoulders. “You stay here. Stay warm. Do not leave. Do not answer to anyone. Understand?” 

Your forehead wrinkles as you try to process this all. 

Don’t answer to anyone? To whom? Why did he put out the fire? Why is he in full gear? What the fuck is going on right now? He said he’d be back…right?

“Y/n.” He booms your name, yet his tone remains steady and calm. “Understand?”

You nod hurriedly, “Yes. Yes.” 

“I will be back soon.” He fixes your shawl a last time before stepping back and bolting through the door.

You follow behind him, keeping the marui flap open to watch him click for his skimwing. He makes the bond and mounts the beast hastily, and is airborne soaring towards the mainland at full tilt. 

Befuddled, you waddle back inside, your back slamming into the marui stilt as you huff and puff to catch your breath. You nervously check the stew, and see that it’s almost done. The glowing charcoal should be enough to finish it off, so you opt to leave it covered and fidget with the prrsmung [baby carrier] you've weaving for the past couple days. 

Anything to keep you busy. 

——

Ralak effortlessly dismounts his tsurak, letting it glide past him in the water as he climbs up to the communal pod. This is a gathering place for important meetings and announcements to the clan. He watches as others assemble under the larger, woven marui, drenched with the water of the sea and sky. It’s clear that this was a signal for the warriors of the clan, from the elite, to the former. The young and the old. 

Even Zu’té is present, standing lone far off in the corner.

War horn in hand, the olo’eyktan makes his presence known as he stands on the highest part of the pod. His mate, the tsahìk, stands next to him with her chest high and their children next to her.

Jake and Neytiri, along with Lo’ak and Neteyam, group together behind them at the back of the pod, observing the unfolding scene. The warriors begin to chant, defensively positioned with their tongues on display. They’re all armed and ready to protect their own from whatever the impending threat is. Ralak takes his place next to Tonowari, standing tall and still. He observes the uproar before him, his mask of indifference fixed tightly to his face. 

“Mawey. Mawey. [Calm. Calm.]” Ronal speaks loudly over the heavy rain, hands splayed out in front of her. 

But it makes no difference. 

The uproar is growing even louder than the downpour. It was rare to hear this particular horn. It’s been years, ten, to be exact. And those who know exactly what it means are up in arms. Ralak knew this day would soon come, but he was hoping to Eywa that it would be after the birth of his son. Tonowari lets loose a throaty ‘gwah’, driving the butt of his spear into the ground. The crowd hushes down into a dead silence, acknowledging their leader.

“Warriors of Awa’atlu. I summon you for good reason. Ten years have passed and it is time to meet with the ash people once more.” Tonowari begins, only for the younger warriors to mumble among themselves, some of who are unaware of who the ash people are. 

“Tìfnu! [silence!]” Ralak snaps through his teeth, “…the olo’eyktan speaks.” Tonowari nods to Ralak. 

“The treaty has ended. We meet with them far inland to discuss the terms of a new treaty.” Tonowari’s eyes bounce among the sea of na’vi. “It will be no easy or short journey. We must make the trek by foot. Tonight.” 

A few male na’vi are unable to keep their excitement to a minimum and siren a few calls, smacking their strakes together. Neytiri snakes her arm around Jake's upper bicep, tucked under his wing. Neteyam and Lo’ak listen intently, their heads tilted down as they grip their bows firmly. 

“Not all will come. I have chosen a few to be at my side.” Tonowari glances at Ralak, and then the Sullys before continuing, “The rest must stay and protect the clan if needed.” 

Ronal interjects, speaking of the ash na’vi and their horrid way of living—from their occasionally cannibalistic diet to their view of Eywa and the balance. She further reminds the people of the treaty, and that its tenets include immunity from their ‘hunting practices’ in exchange for a resource only attainable on the reef. The treaty is valid for a decade and then the terms are subject to negotiation based on the two tribe’s needs. She commences it by announcing the names of those who have been chosen by Tonowari.

“I need you by my side, Ralak.”

It was a direct order, and Ralak knows that. He knows that no matter what he says, the olo’eyktan’s order must be obeyed. But it doesn’t mean he won’t try. 

“She is due any day now. You know that.” Ralak speaks crystal clear, stating exactly what his concerns are.

He doesn’t want to leave you alone, especially so heavy and full with his firstborn, who will come at any moment. Every bone in his body is telling him it’s the wrong move. But Tonowari glances at his own wife who is swollen with his fourth child.

“I know. I know, Tak. But we must do what we need. For the people.” 

Ralak holds a stare with his superior—his father figure. He’s gritting his teeth to keep himself together, to keep his composure. To keep his thoughts just as his thoughts. The two communicate through facial expressions, and a quick tilt to Tonowari’s head has Ralak looking away in frustration. 

It’s final. 

“No.” Jake butts in, sharp and quick with his disapproval. “He gave me his word.” 

Alas, a moment where father and son in law are in favour of the same thing. 

“You have the sky people and we have the ash people. They demand his (Ralak’s) presence. If we fail in this, we will be at war. He comes with us.” Tonowari is stern with his tone, leaving no room for an argument. 

“Ma’ Jake.” Neytiri chimes in, fright evident in her voice. She is tired of the war. 

As a last resort, Ralak’s gaze shifts over to Zu’té. He knew Zu’té would also be chosen despite his...'retirement'. He was undoubtedly one of the best warriors the clan has ever had, wielding great strength and skill. Zu’té returns the stare, crossing his arms over his chest as he cocks a brow. Their brothership had strengthened after Ralak sought help. 

Jake notices this, and shakes his head with his hands on his hips. “Nope. No. Who is that guy anyways?” 

“My brother.”  

“His brother.” 

The two taller na’vi speak at once. 

“Since when do you have a—You know what? I don’t care. Okay? You? I trust. Him? Not so much. I’d rather my boys stay with her.” Jake says sternly, glancing at Zu’té. “No offence, bud.” 

“Good thing I care not for your opinion, koaktan [old man].” 

“Zu’té.” Ralak whispers harshly, throwing a glare at his sibling. 

“Look, if you got a problem—”

“What about tuk?” Neytiri cuts her mate short, tugging at his arm to remind him of who is watching their youngest daughter. 

“Then they take turns or somethin’, I’m not havin’ one baby girl watched and not the other.” 

“Toruk makto.” Tonowari lays a heavy hand on the former olo’eyktan's shoulder, drawing him away to break the tension. “They cannot step foot on our land with the treaty. She will be safe. Trust me…” Their voices drown out from the pounding downpour. 

As they go back and forth, Ralak begins to process what Tonowari said.

‘They demand his presence’.

Tonowari had made this meeting the topic of conversation over the past few weeks, preparing him for this. But he never mentioned anything about them demanding his attendance in particular. The last meeting with the ash people happened when Ralak was a very young warrior, long before his iknimaya. 

Back then, Tonowari had a different warrior at his side—a different right hand. She was strong and well known for being patient with her students. It was a frequent story at family dinner when Tonowari and Ronal took Ralak under their wing. And as Ralak became Tonowari's right hand man, he was thrusted into enforcing the tenets of the treaty, going inland with Tonowari to uphold the clan's part.

Ralak has only caught a glimpse of them once after delivering the resource to the agreed spot. He had just started these excursions with Tonowari, and his curiosity got the best of him. He looked behind him for just a moment, and caught the sight of a curvy, grey woman hastily gathering and stuffing everything into a satchel of some sort. 

Her stripes were a deep, ashy blue, and her skin seemed almost scale-like. She was rid of any bioluminescence, as if the light within her was gone, and her hair was matted with what looked like burgundy clay. Tonowari then seized the back of Ralak’s neck and shoved him along, advising that he never looks. 

“It is decided. Neteyam, Lo’ak and Zu’té stay.” Tonowari announces as he and Jake rejoin the group, looking at those who are left—Tonowari, Neytiri and Ralak. “We leave soon, make your arrangements.” 

Ralak knew his last few words were directed to him. With that, Ralak strides towards Zu’té. “I know what I am asking of you, Zu’té—” 

“I will do this for you.” Zu’té turns to face Ralak, who’s undeniably uneasy and concerned. 

“Protect her.” 

“You protect her. Get in and get out of there, baby brother.” Zu’té speaks, extending his hand out to Ralak. Ralak nods firmly. He’s right, your safety, along with the rest of the clan’s, depends on how this all plays out. 

“Oe irayo si ngaru [I give thanks to you].” Ralak's hand meets Zu’té’s forearm with a smack. They tug back and forth a bit, silently wishing each other luck on their own endeavours before setting off on their skimwings. 

They arrive, walking with haste along the beach towards the stairs to Ralak’s marui pod in the pouring rain.

“That’s...interesting.” Zu’té makes a comment about the railings for the stairs. 

“She has a hard time without it.” Ralak responds, stopping at the bottom step, coming to the quick realisation that this man will essentially be replacing him for the next few eclipses. “She may need help using them.” 

Zu’té nods, understanding what he really means. “Do not fret, brother. I will take care of your mate.” 

Ralak releases a shaky breath as they make their way to the patio, finding shelter from the rain. 

“Wait here.” Ralak speaks with his back turned, “I must speak with her first.”  

——

A torturous hour has passed, and you’ve burned circles into your marui floor from pacing so much. He’s taking longer than you’d expected, and worry is really starting to set in now. 

What’s going on? What did that sound mean? Why did he leave in such a rush? With all his gear, too? 

You gnaw at the calloused piece of skin on your thumb, keeping a warm comforting hand on your bump to keep your kicking babe calm. Regardless, he continues doing somersaults in your womb.

Fuck it. 

You rush towards the marui door where your gear hangs, and fight with the strap of your chest piece to slip it on you. It won’t fasten and it’s simply too tight to fit your body right now, but you continue to grapple with the stupid strap with shaky hands. 

“Tanhì.” Ralak’s voice is rough and he sounds winded. “What are you doing?” He rushes over to you and quickly removes the piece off your chest. 

“Ralak—oh, thank Eywa.” Your voice is shaky, but thick with relief. “I’m sorry, I just got s-so worried.”

“We must speak. Time is going.” Ralak carefully ushers you over to the bed, and assists you in sitting down, holding your swollen belly along the way. He takes note of his active child, feeling his little kicks and pokes. He comforts his young with a few strokes to your stomach. “Shh-shh, little one. Alright.”

He knows this whole ordeal must be stressing you both, and he’s really regretting not telling you all of this sooner.

“What do you mean?” You ask, urgency thick in your voice.

Ralaks demeanour is nothing short of solemn, tensed jaw and tightened lips. It seems serious, and this man is no person to jest on such matters.

"Ralak...What is happening?"

He takes a moment to reply, his gaze fixed on his hand that still lays firmly on your stomach. He then looks up at you, concern etched into his features. “It is time to speak about… my duties with Tonowari.” 

You feel your heart thud against your ribcage, your eyes widen at the words. You’ve been eager to know, but now that he’s telling you, it implies that everything isn’t alright. It implies… the safety of your unborn is compromised. You nod slowly, trying to remain calm for the sake of your son. 

“We reef people hold a peace treaty with another clan…” the giant begins, slipping his hand from your stomach to clasp yours tightly. “…the ash people.” 

“Ash people?” Your voice is less than a whisper, tiny and croaky.

“They are a horrible people, tanhì. Truly wicked. Kawnglan [malicious; bad hearted]. Much like the sky people.” He shakes his head as he mutters the words, not even wanting to go into any more detail. He didn’t want to taint your innocence. To stress your mind. Especially now that you’re heavy with his child. “The treaty keeps them off this land. It keeps you safe.” 

“Kawnglan [malicious; bad hearted].” You repeat through a gasp. 

“To them, Eywa is nothing. Tsaheylu [the bond] is for control. Their diet…” Ralak catches himself, bringing his words to a halt.

“Their diet…?” Your bottom lip trembles. 

Ralak just shakes his head, taking your other hand with his. “The treaty will soon end. I must go. Tonight.”

“What?!” You shout, wrenching your hands from his grasp to quickly stand up. A shooting pain sears up the side of your stomach, and your hand flies to clutch it. Ralak rushes to steady you.

“Careful, y/n.” He snaps, high strung and tense. “I will be back in a few eclipses.” 

“What? No! No, no. It’s too dangerous.” You protest, gripping his wrists to stay standing.  

“It is the olo’eyktan’s orders. I must.” He’s quick to respond to you. 

This quietens you. Does Tonowari not know that you’re due any day? Or perhaps he doesn’t care. How could he rip your mate away from you at this time? Especially for something so…risky. You feel your fear bubble into something more hot. 

Anger. 

“Then I’m coming.” You announce, dropping your hands from his wrists to waddle over to your gear once more. Ralak stands in front of you, hands on your stomach to stop you. 

“No. You're staying here.” Ralak orders sternly, backing you up to sit back on the bed. 

“No. I’m coming. I’m safer with you.” You resist his pushes, trying to stand firm.

“You are heavy with child.” He grits his teeth, giving you another light push, “I cannot protect you there. You—agh—you are safer here.”

Ralak makes the confession, feeling like he’s failing at his duty as your mate. He shouldn’t even be leaving you, not when you're this far along. He should be by your side, tending to your every need. 

“What? By myself? What if—what if something happens? What if the baby—” You’re cut short by the sound of Zu’té’s not-so-reserved entrance. He yanks the marui flap to the side, ducking under it and standing tall behind Ralak, by just a couple inches. He, too, is fully equipped with his gear and weapons. 

“Brother. I can hear the war party.” Zu’té speaks with haste, keeping his eyes locked onto Ralak. 

'Brother?' Your eyes snap back to Ralak, beady and full of tears. “You didn’t.”

It quickly dawns on you that Ralak had planned this out. Made these arrangements in anticipation things went south and he had no say in the matter. To ensure your safety, and the safety of your unborn by going to the greatest length of rekindling a flame that had been extinct for twelve years. Ralak has spoken casually of his brother before, but never in any great detail. 

“Y/n. This is Zu’té, my brother. He will keep you safe.” Ralak speaks with shame in his voice, knowing this must be way too overwhelming for you. He hadn’t planned for it to go like this. 

Zu’té finally allows his eyes to wander over to you. They widen when they get their first proper look of you, darting all over your body to take in your foreign features.

He caught a glimpse when your family first arrived in Awa’atlu, but never this close. His eyes land on your bulging stomach, lingering a second too long to make even himself a bit uncomfortable. He clears his throat and looks back at Ralak.

You look at Zu’té with anger in your eyes, and then back at Ralak as they begin to swell with hot tears. Zu’té tries to make himself smaller, feeling the thickness of the air now. He backs up into the marui flap, tempted to lift it and walk himself outside to relieve some of the pressure. 

“How long did you say this would be f-for? What if I go into labour? Will you really allow another man to deliver our son?” 

Zu’té quickly but silently excuses himself from the room, taking a spot on the patio with his arms crossed over his chest, pinching the bridge of his nose. ‘Oh, Toto. What have you gotten yourself into?’

Angry, you shot the words like an arrow and they pierced your mate’s chest with ease. He grimaces, as if he were actually in pain.

“I-I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I—” You sob the apology, burying your hot face into your hands. 

Ralak embraces you, wrapping his large arms around your body, hugging you close and tight. He sways a little with you, humming deep in his chest. “‘ts alright. You’re okay. Take a breath. I know this is frightening.” 

He understands—it is not uncommon for a navi pair to remain close during the final weeks of pregnancy. It’s an unconscious mechanism, keeping them together for the birth of their offspring. Ralak feels it just as much as you but in order to truly protect you he must go— another thing that he understands. 

“You c-come back to me, o-okay?” Your breath won’t stop hitching. “Come as s-soon as y-you can.” 

“I will, I will. ” He coos, pulling back enough to look down at you. “Mawey, tanhì. Strong heart. For our baby.” 

You nod, lifting your head to look up at him. He sees the terror in your eyes and his heart breaks with guilt. He gently presses his forehead against yours, slowly stroking your back. 

“Nga yawne lu oer, nga yawne lu oer. [I love you, I love you]” He whispers longingly as he closes the distance between your mouths. 

“Nga yawne lu oer [I love you]. S-So much.” You sputter, lips trembling against his.

He kisses you with force, pressing his lips into yours until it almost hurts. You both linger there, not wanting to part ways. But you feel him pulling away, knowing there wasn’t much time left. Instinctively, cling onto him when his lips leave yours. 

“Please don’t go.” You mumble into his chest, knowing that he has no choice.

“I have to, my tanhì.” He mutters as he begins to pull away before letting go completely. 

You follow behind him, thumb in your mouth as you nibble at the skin, hand resting on top of your bump. You watch him call for his tsurak for a second time tonight, and look back at you for a moment. He takes in the sight of you standing next to his older brother, trying to find comfort in knowing that you’re in safe hands. Ralak gives him a nod and mounts the beast, taking off towards the war party.

Leaving you in the presence of Zu’té. 

“Y/n, is it?” Zu’té asks, already knowing the answer.

It’s awkward and he doesn’t do well in these types of situations. He knows comfort is what you need right now, considering you’re now sobbing into your hands again. You’re worried sick. Literally. It’s all making you feel woozy and lightheaded. 

“Listen...” He goes to rest a hand on your upper back, but he hesitates, leaving his hand to hover. He retracts it completely, allowing it to fall back to his side. He sighs, droopy ears and tensed brows. “He will return soon.”

Among all the emotions that cloud you at once, anger still remains roaring at the forefront. You find yourself turning your heel and ignoring his presence, waddling away as fast as your swollen feet will allow it. 

“Leave m-me be.” You spit between hitched breaths, ensuring the flap of the marui door shuts harshly behind you. 

Despite feeling sympathy for you, Zu’té stands outside, finding solace in being alone. He chooses the driest spot, and sets himself up on the patio, getting ready for the stormy night ahead. 

You waddle in to bed, wrapping yourself in the thick shawl that smells like your mate, and lay next to the prrsmung [baby carrier] you still have yet to finish. Feeling defeated and empty, you lay on your side in bed as you process everything, letting silent tears crash onto your bed.

——

You’re not entirely sure at what point in the night that you drifted to sleep, but you wake up in a groggy state. Dried tears make it hard to open your eyes, and your hair sticks to your face. You look around in a daze and realise that it’s still dark outside. 

The pang in your bladder keeps you awake and forces you out of bed, making you wobble to the curtain. You pull it back and are met with the sight of Zu’té sleeping propped up against the marui wall with his spear tucked to his chest. 

Seeing him painfully reminds you of the heart wrenching events of last night. That even though you were hoping and praying to Eywa for it all to be a bad dream—it was all very real. 

An icy cold breeze gusts by, making you shiver under your shawl and Zu’té shift in his sleep. The rain had eased off into a light, continuous drizzle some time during the night. 

Your ears droop with guilt for leaving him out here in the cold, damp night. You let out a sigh and grip the railing to the marui stairs, turning your body sideways to take your first step down. The wood squeaks when it takes your weight, Ralaks usual tell tale sign that you’re sneaking out at night without his help. 

It seems to work for Zu’té too because by the time you reach the second step you hear a raspy voice.  

“I was told you need help with these.” Zu’té offers his hand. You let out a sigh and take his arm. 

 You’ll admit, his helping hand is actually helping, especially now that you’re so far along. 

“Irayo [thank you].” You mutter, holding on tightly as you make your way to the bottom step. Zu’té leans against the railing, waiting for you to finish your business. 

You don’t take long, most trips recently have been false alarms—just the baby pushing on your bladder because he’s so low down. As you make your way back to the stairs, your lower back begins to warm up. It radiates to your upper and inner thighs, making them ache as you walk. 

It’s nothing new, aches and pains are becoming more frequent as the days pass, and the cold certainly isn’t helping. Zu’té meets you at the bottom step with an extended elbow, and you take his arm without a second thought. 

It starts to rain again, hard. The temperature easily falls by a few degrees and all you want is to be inside the warmth of your bed right now. Your feet move at a quicker pace and as much as Zu’té tries to be gentle as he can, his grip tightens. 

“Take your time.” He says, keeping you steady as you reach the top step. 

Once you get to the door, he immediately lets go of you, stepping aside to take his spot on the patio for the remainder of the night. You pull back the marui flap but find yourself hesitating to step inside. You look over your shoulder, watching Zu’té tuck his spear close to his chest and prop himself against the wall.

“Zu’té.” You say. He looks at you, brows raised as he listens. “It’s cold out here. You should come—” 

“Don’t worry about me.” He cuts you short, closing his eyes. 

“I’m not.” Your words are quick and almost defensive. 

Zu’té chuckles a bit, if you could even call it that. “Sounds like you are.” 

You sigh, getting a little irritated. “Whatever.”

“I’ll be alright out here.” He says nonchalantly, opening his eyes to look directly at you. Your heart skips a beat and you feel the blood drain from your face. You thought Ralak was intimidating, but this guy is something else. 

“Sure.” It’s awkward, but a good awkward…if that were a thing. “Night.”

“Wake me if you need me. No more sneaky shit.” He’s muttering now, ready to go back to sleep. “And get some rest.”

You hold back your laugh, a little amused by the stark difference in his personality and Ralaks. How are they brothers? Or related, even? 

“Will do, sir.” You match his sarcastic tone, entering the marui and laying down in bed, hoping to Eywa that sleep will find you soon. 

——

Village life continues despite Ralak and the others' absence. You wake up earlier than usual, despite the exhausting circumstances. Your baby moves, letting you know he’s awake too. 

“Daddy will be home soon.” You reassure your babe, gently rubbing your stomach. 

Perhaps you were also reassuring yourself. 

You feel empty, and numb. And as much as you want to lay in bed all day and wait for your mates return, you still have a few things left to do before your son’s arrival. 

First thing being, getting some food in your system. 

You get ready, and walk outside, noticing that Zu’té is no longer in his spot. 

He wakes early. 

Looking out into the distance, you catch sight of Zu’té crouching next to a small flame, cooking what seems to be squid. It’s hard to be sure of what it is—the sun hasn’t fully bloomed, and though the rain has stopped it’s still a bit gloomy. You make your way over to him, taking extra care when going down the stairs.

“Morning.” You say nonchalantly. 

Zu’té’s ears spring up and he looks behind him—behind you—directly at the stairs. His brows lower and he sighs quickly, knowing there’s no point in making the comment. He looks back at his task, turning the slightly charred squid impaled by a sharpened branch. 

“You’re up early.” The giant states, back turned to you to reveal his insanely intricate tattoo. 

“Same to you.” You respond, staring at his back hard enough to burn holes into it. You see some scarring and thickened skin, presumably from his days as a warrior. That much you knew because of Ralak. 

“Squid. Help yourself.” Zu’té says, handing you a stick of burnt squid. 

Taking it from him, you hold it in front of your face, a little baffled at how he seemingly saw nothing wrong with it. 

“Hm…thanks. Looks…well done.” You try to force a smile, to no avail. 

You try to take a seat next to him, struggling to keep your balance as you lower yourself to your knees. His ears lay flat and he instinctively springs to his feet, helping you sit down. He didn’t think you’d join him here. 

It’s silent. Uncomfortably silent. And awkward. You keep your extremities close and your tail closer, curled up in on yourself to remain as small as you can. Although, in comparison to your mate's brother, you were tiny. 

He’s not taller by much, but still taller nonetheless. It really makes you wonder how their parents looked for them to turn out this way. 

Zu’té eats hastily, shovelling the squid in his mouth as if it had the ability to slither away. It makes you look back at your own serving and suddenly your nerves go haywire. You didn’t want to risk getting sick, your bedside bucket is too far away to fetch. But you didn’t want to be rude—he’d obviously woken up early to make this for you. 

You take an experimental bite and fight for your life to keep a straight face. You exaggerate a nod and cover your mouth with your hand, hiding the way you're smacking away at this blubbery piece of meat. 

“Mm. Mhm.” You grunt, forcing it down and clearing your throat. “It’s—uhm, it’s not—”

“I am no ‘emyu [cooker].” He says, chucking his cleared stick into the fire. 

“Ahem—yeah. Yup.” You twirl the stick between your pointer finger and thumb, bringing his attention to your five fingered hand. His eyes widen a bit before quickly looking away, and you tuck them back in between your thighs. 

“Thanks for breakfast.”

“Sleep well?” 

You both speak at the same time, unintentionally clearing the tension in the air. 

“I suppose, all things considered.” You try to speak lightheartedly. “And you? Did any part of you freeze?” 

Zu’té laughs and shakes his head. “No, not quite.” 

“Well, that’s good.” You say, looking out at sea to witness the sun's emergence. It casts an orange hue over the water, illuminating the ripples of the oncoming waves. 

He’s watching it too. 

“Your tattoo.” You speak softly, witnessing his ears flutter. “…on your back.” 

“Ah. What of it?” 

“What does it mean? I mean—” You stutter, still adapting to the idea of inking being a symbolic statement. “What’s the story behind that?” 

The story replays in his head—the death of the spirit brothers and family. It flashes before him, as if he were in that moment again. The guilt and pain inside him is eternal, something that’s never left him since. He’s never spoken of it, not even to the person he hurt the most through it all—Ralak. 

His ears pin back and his jaw tightens. He shrugs his shoulders and mutters, “Felt like it.” 

“So…you’re telling me you did that, for fun?” The surprise is evident in your voice as you look at the tattoo again. His skin is raised and it spans the entirety of his upper back. “That must have been really painful. Ralak did mine and it took days.” 

“Didn’t hurt.” Zu’té says, turning his body to you yet keeping his eyes on the sun. But it did. It hurt—a lot. Self inflicted pain, to symbolise the pain he inflicted on others, even if it weren’t his intention. 

Maybe they are brothers. You think.

“You going to eat that?” He asks, interrupting your train of thought, pointing at your squid on a stick. 

“Uhh—I’m going to pass.” You answer, offering it to him, “…sorry.” 

“Again. Not a ‘emyu [cooker]” He takes it gladly, biting off a decent chunk and chewing at it unbothered with a deadpan expression.

Nevermind. 

Now the silence isn’t as awkward. You choose to sit here a while longer, enjoying this moment as much as you can before coming back to reality. The reality that there may be a war brewing. That—

Ralak isn’t here. 

Well, that didn’t last long. 

Sadness washes over you, making your ears droop and your tail heavy. Your baby gives you a sudden, hard kick in the ribs, as if he were telling his mummy to cheer up. You uncross your legs and shift your weight to the one side, getting ready to get up and be productive.

 Zu’té seems to take note of that. 

“Need to get up?” He asks, chucking yet another stick into the fire. 

“I got it.” You grunt, shuffling to your knees.

Zu’té lets out a displeased grumble, understanding what his brother meant when he said you have a stubborn streak. He goes to help you anyways, supporting you by the elbow. 

You’re just about standing when you feel a sharp stabbing pain in your back. It makes you jolt and grab onto Zu’té, whose slight irritation instantly turns into concern. 

“Y/n.” 

“I’m good, I’m good.” You repeat out of breath, steadying yourself before letting go. He seemed unsure if you really were okay. “Really. Happens all the time now.” 

Zu’té nods, letting go and giving you a little more space. “Alright.” 

——

The meeting spot is no other than the ‘head quarters’ of the ash people. It is only on this occasion that another clan may step foot on their land and walk away with a beating heart. That is, if all goes well. Tonowari is confident, however, knowing that the resource they provide the ash people is sufficient enough to prolong the treaty for many decades to come. 

It is an ore that forms deep underwater, and can only be extracted by the most skilled divers. Divers that can hold their breath for up to half an hour. The use of this ore remains unknown to the reef people, but the ash people are quick to seize it almost instantaneously at the drop off point. The ore is plentiful among the reef, renewing itself as it is harvested—the act of the great mother restoring balance as needed.

Truth be told, although the reef people are a peaceful people, it is no secret that they hold some of the strongest warriors on Pandora. They are proud of their home, and will fight to protect it at all costs. Even the ash people know this. Which is the reason for their agreement on something as laughable as a ‘peace’ treaty.

Otherwise, what’s really to stop them from annihilating the reef people and taking the ore themselves?  

Ralak meets with the others—Tonowari, Jake, Neytiri, and Ronal. They all set off far inland to the place the two clans met ten years ago. The trek is long and tiresome, leaving Ronal winded and in need of a couple breaks along the way. She is, too, heavy with child, but as tsahìk, she perseveres. Tonowari had tried to convince her several times to stay home, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer. 

“We are here.” Tonowari announces as the group nears the settlement of their natural enemy. It’s a rocky environment, much like the reef but with plenty of soil and clay. “Heads straight. Ignore them.”

——

Zu’té stays nearby the marui as he tends to some of Ralak’s duties, keeping an eye on you from afar. You sit comfortably on the bottom step of the marui stairs, concentrating on finishing your baby’s sling. Your fingers are a little swollen, making it more difficult to weave. Frustrated, you plop the sling to your side and bury your face into your hands. 

Everything is just too overwhelming right now. 

“Your technique is poor.” Zu’té’s voice booms over you. 

You look up, seeing this tall man with his hands on his hips tower over you, shading you from the sun. “Excuse me? I’ll have you know that I have plenty of knowledge on—” 

“This is a prrsmung [baby carrier], yes?” Zu’té picks up the sling and sits himself next to you, searching for the point in which you left off.

You watch intently, intrigued to know his next move. He carefully unravels all the wefts you’ve managed to do since sitting on this damned step. 

“What are you doing? Stop!” 

Zu’té sighs and demonstrates a weaving technique you’ve never seen before, entwining and knitting the fabric until it comes together in an even neater fashion. You look at him in awe, dumbstruck that he was able to do that. Ralak dislikes weaving, in fact, he loathes it. 

“Try it.” He says, plucking the fabric away from itself to unravel it once more before handing it back to you. You hesitate to take it, caught off guard from his unexpected, skilled movements. 

“My fingers are swollen.” You say, feeling defeated and a little embarrassed. He looks down, noticing your five-fingered hand again, not nearly surprised as last time. 

“Not as big as mine.” He tries to hand you the sling again. “You got it.” 

Reluctantly, you take the sling and slowly mirror his movements, replicating the technique perfectly. 

“See?” Zu’té sounds pleased with himself. Looking down at the sling, it dawns on you.

“So, you’re a weaver?” You ask the question as if you had just struck gold. “Usually the women take on that role.” 

“Not here, forest girl.” Zu’té defends his role proudly, “But yes, I am.” 

“Nice. It is good to see that. My grandmother is a great weaver, she taught me all I know.” You begin. 

For as long as your body would allow it, you and Zu’té sat on that step and wove together. You wove the sling and he went to fetch his satchel to work on a piece of his own. Though you did most of the talking, and found yourself dodging one too many snarky remarks, a bond formed on that step. 

You told him about your past at hometree, your reason for seeking uturu to begin with. 

The sky people. 

The words wouldn’t stop flowing, especially when you got onto the topic of how you met his brother. You explained that Ralak was your karyu [teacher] and how that quickly morphed into something much more beautiful. How you broke past his walls—took off his mask of indifference. 

But then that awkward silence came again. The silence that reminded you why this stranger was in your home to begin with. That he was playing watchdog because your mate had to leave your side whilst being heavily pregnant. 

“I lied.” Zu’té fills the silence. It has your ears perked up and your full attention on him. Your heart picked up speed, almost expecting something bad. “About?”

“That tattoo hurt like a kalweyaveng [son of a bitch].” 

His confession has you bellowing out in laughter, clutching your stomach to keep you from shaking up your baby. 

“I knew it.” You finally say once you calm down from a much needed laugh. “No good comes from trying to pretend that things don’t hurt, you know.” 

Little did you know these words weighed heavy on him. Heavier than you meant for them to. He falls silent, contemplating if he should say what he’s about to. The real confession. The real reason behind the tattoo. 

“I killed our spirit brothers.” He blurts out, astonished by his own voice. 

Did I really just say that? Shit.

“What?” You exhale, your heart now galloping in your chest.

“It was twelve years ago. I was…seventeen. Sent out to war. I had to keep Ralak out of it. I went alone…lead a group of warriors to protect the tulkun.” His voice seizes up, as if his throat were closing. He looks away, fixing his gaze to his feet. “I was still learning. I didn’t know. I didn’t know. The sky people…they slaughtered them all.” 

“Hey, hey. That’s not your fault, Zu’té. You didn’t kill them. The sky people did.” You rest your hand on his back, feeling how raised and toughened the skin where his inking lay deep.

Zu’té just looks at you, eyes trembling with vulnerability. It’s the first someone outside of the family has ever told him that. It’s something that he needed to hear. 

“Is that why you fled? Ralak told me you left him.” 

Zu’té nods, looking away in shame once more. “I abandoned him.”

You shake your head, knowing now that Ralak has healed and no longer feels this way. “He has healed Zu’té. And now it is your turn.” 

Zu’té only nods, allowing the silence to fill the space again. This time it’s needed. 

Until it's broken by a familiar voice. 

“Sister.” Neteyam greets you at the bottom step, throwing a smile your way, then to your stomach. “Little one.” 

He’s checking on you per your fathers request. Of course he wanted to ensure you were okay, too. 

“Tey.” You smile big, happy to see such a familiar, comforting face. “I thought you went.”

You reach out for the railing to pull yourself up, and both Neteyam and Zu’té go to help you get up. You side-hug Neteyam, finding comfort in your brother. It’s been a hectic night. 

“No, someone’s got to watch Tuk…and you.” Neteyam chuckles. As you let go, your glances at Ralak’s brother. “Neteyam, this is Ralak’s brother. Zu’té.” You introduce the two properly. 

Taught manners from a young age, Neteyam gestures ‘I see you’ to the former warrior, and he returns the sign. 

“Uncle TeyTey’s got you guys for the day.” Neteyam coos at your tummy, and then offers you his arm. 

“Right...Dads orders?” You ask, happy to go with him. 

“Dads orders.” Neteyam nods firmly, looking at Zu’té to relay the message. Zu’té returns the nod, being present to hear your fathers concerns about the entire arrangement. Besides, it’ll give him time to hunt for something proper for dinner. 

“C’mon guys!” Lo’ak shouts from the ocean, mounted on his skimwing with Tuk behind him. 

“See you. Think about what I said.” You say to Zu’té, prompting him to wave goodbye. Neteyam walks you to his tsurak, helping you to get on. You had retired your tsurak for the time being, finding it hard to ride with your back pain. 

“Hey Lo’. Tuk-Tuk.” You say with relief in your voice, finding comfort in the company of your family. 

——

The ash people are impudent to say the least. They follow behind the five na’vi weaving their way through the growing crowd, right on their tails as they try to get a better look at them. They are particularly interested in Jake and Neytiri, seeing the forest people for the first time. But most haven’t even gotten a look at the reef people yet, despite having the agreement with them for so many decades already. 

Some even dare to poke and prod, tugging at their tails and their hair to get a feel or whiff of their scents. Tonowari, Jake, Neytiri and Ralak walk in a formation that allows Ronal to be in the centre, safe guarded from any pointed fingernails or astray noses. Ralak is on edge, but one could never tell by a glance. His appearance is intimidating, a stature so tall he and Tonowari tower over the crowd. 

“I do the talking.” Tonowari says discreetly as they near the entrance of the hut. 

The room is made of some sort of red clay substance, seemingly burnt to a char until it has been hardened into what feels like rock. This one in particular is large, containing smaller sectioned off rooms, partitioned with thick leather curtains. It's all very bleak, rid of liveliness and colour. 

As they enter the hut, two bigger ash na’vi guard the door on either side, blocking and guarding the entrance behind them. Two more ash na’vi lead the group with spears to their backs to a large curtain, and shove them towards it with a few harsh jabs to Jake’s and Ralak’s spines. Jake snaps around, throwing them a dirty look. Whilst Ralak keeps his gaze fixed to his feet. He feels deep in his gut that something isn’t right. 

Whether it be here, or back home. 

With each step he takes, the sense of impending doom only worsens. He has no desire to be here but he recognizes that this is what is necessary. Yet, he can’t help the way he feels. And when he finally raises his head all the pieces link together. It all makes sense. 

Before them are five na’vi in total. Two women and three men. Four ash na’vi and one…reef na’vi. A female, reef na’vi. Her face is unmistakable—unforgettable. It’s been seared into his mind since he was a young boy.

And when Ralak sees it, he almost caves in on himself. His mask of indifference—of intimidation, cracks. Hell, it shatters. Into thousands of pieces, scattered at his feet. Tonowari’s previous right hand. The banished. 

His karyu.

[yvesdot]

How To Get Roughly 50 Notes On An Original Writing Post And Possibly Net A Single Reader

I had someone ask today how I get people to click through and read my writing, and I'm realizing that I've never actually made a post all in one place of everything I do to get a new piece of short fiction off the ground... so here you go! How to get (some) eyes on your work, even if it is not published anywhere of interest and you don't have a marketing team behind you.

The #1 thing is presentation. You want to get people's attention, and once you have it, convince them to keep paying attention. Fortunately, people tend to be both reasonable and predictable, which means all you have to do is follow The Formula.

(original post link)

Here's the formula from the above post broken down:

[giant horizontal title card, preferably animated to catch the eye] OR [a few tasteful parallels, if you're good at parallel posts]

TITLE (linked to where you can read the piece) / wordcount

a quote that is representative of the tone, themes, prose style, and/or the "promise of the premise"

A longer pitch, featuring the overall subject of the piece (transsexual reality TV drama), any comp titles (Detransition, Baby), the main draw (in this case, watching trans people be awful to clueless cis people), major themes (performance), and any other promises you'd like to make (food romance and tigers). You can see that the quote I chose delivers on the promise of trans people intellectually outperforming cis people-- if I were a reader, I would be more likely to trust that the rest of the pitch was accurate based on that assurance.

If you have any positive reviews on your piece, say so. If it has won any awards or contests, say so. If your work has made people cry, Doja Cat - Say So. Always. Generally speaking, more personal and more detailed is better, but keep it to one or two people-- e.g. "when I gave this to my S/O to read he shot milk out of his nose so far I had to go clean under the couch" or "my favorite review of this piece is the reader who said they read it chapter-by-chapter under their covers because they wanted it all to themself." This should be one sentence.

Depending on where the story is published, what you usually promote, etc., it may be worthwhile saying the story is free. Use your judgment on whether the reader can tell.

I also like putting my links at the bottom so someone seeing this on a friend's dash can easily track me around the 'Net. They make me look more professional (I now include a link to my website) and they visually balance the post, in my opinion. This post also happened to have some additional links for bonus content.

This is not as high stakes as it seems. I'm not 100% happy with the pitch here, and I'm not 100% happy with the graphics I've used in other cases. These are some bones that help to sell the piece even when the details aren't as sharp.

REBLOGGING

When is the last time you read something the first time you saw it on your dash? I schedule reblogs of all important posts at least twice over the next 2-3 days, often three times so I can get the morning/afternoon/evening reblog. If your followers tend to be more active at certain times, go ahead and use those. In the past I've intentionally scheduled posts for times I knew more popular mutuals were active, and it has paid off!

I also schedule a reblog for a week and a month and sometimes even a full calendar year out, because I know there is going to be that person who tags the piece '#to read' and instantly forgets about it, only to get excited when they see it weeks later. I am very often that reader. The goal is to catch people when they're ready to read immediately, and this is a game of chance.

Every so often, I go through my entire #writing or #important writing updates or even just #popular tag(s) and queue two dozen posts before shuffling my queue to redistribute matters. This keeps my older work circulating, ensuring new readers get a chance to see older pieces and giving those older pieces another shot at dashboard space. (More on #popular later.) This sounds like a lot, which is why you have to space everything pretty far apart. Fortunately, this is the world's best site for cool things to reblog. I guarantee you that you can find something new you love to post in the meanwhile.

COPING WITH FAME

The post above is what I, a published author, consider "doing well" for a post about my writing on Tumblr. As of October 10th, 2024, over two years after its initial posting and over five years into my posting doggedly about my original fiction, it has 77 notes. More than half (43) are likes. Around half of the reblogs are me promoting my own work or the same very sweet person dutifully reblogging me every time I do so. Glancing through the reblogs now, I know of four people whom I can confirm have read it. Presumably, there are more who are completely silent and have never interacted with the post whatsoever. Genuinely: wahoo!! I am so grateful and happy for the attention and reception of my work.

This is the number one thing I suggest: focus on what you have, and not what you lack. Imagine your post from the perspective of an outsider: even one reblog means you convinced that one person to spread your art! How cool is that! This is also good advice because moping is simply not helpful; it will not get you more reads. (And no, neither will guilting others. Kill that vent post in your head!)

GETTING FOLLOWERS

I don't have that many followers. Of the followers I do have, people are very unpredictably active. When I hear about other people's follower counts I am consistently surprised, because people with half of mine will have fans and haters the likes of which I could not possibly dream of. I follow 500-follower folk who post "I ate a strawberry today" and get 6 asks ranging from "Wow I respect you so much for eating that strawberry" to "I'm going to come to your address at [REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED] and shove bananas down your throat for hating on my favorite fruit."

I point this out to establish three important things. 1) Be grateful for what you have (in my case, 0 anonymous hate asks about fruitpinions), 2) followers have far less impact on interaction than one might think, and 3) followers don't engage with the things you might like them to.

Think about yourself. Are you more likely to reblog a photo of a cat in a pumpkin (alright, here) or something advertising fifteen minutes' worth of writing, which could be, for all you know, bad? Or, for that matter, by a person you should not like to support? Reblogs on generically interesting things are 'safer' (unfortunately) than reblogs on art, and it makes perfect sense that people are skittish around the latter. People don't often reblog things they haven't read, and nobody can reblog every artpost on their dash. Having someone else put it there, however, is incredibly powerful—someone's vetted this post as Worth a Reblog, after all. Having more followers allows for much more of this.

(Followers don't guarantee any one sort of interaction, but having more of them is rarely bad. Rarely.)

Across my most popular posts, one theme becomes very obvious: people like things that apply to them or their blog. I try to post writing advice/opinions/memes every so often, because I know I have a loyal base of writerfolk who like to see that from me, and it's "easier" to reblog than my writing. This is simply the nature of the universe. I used to pretty frequently go into the #writeblr tag and check out what was recently popular so I could figure out how to serve the same base, and from time to time it worked.

You're welcome to examine the list of #writing posts that made it to 100 notes, because each tends to have a notable reason behind its success: a reblog with an exceptionally good review, a contest win, a wordcount that lends itself to pasting the whole thing in one go.

(Posts about my book's release are a notable exception, in part due to Blaze and in part due to my absolutely relentless flogging of their reblog buttons during the ~year of promotion. Also in large part to a dedicated circle of friends who passed the post around nonstop! Thank you so much!!)

A lot of people will tell you to attempt covert reciprocal promotion. You know—reblog a lot of stuff, in the hopes that people will reblog yours. If I could change one thing on Tumblr, it would be this: the culture that quietly encourages disingenously interacting with other people with a secret True Goal in mind. (On the autism website.)

Please, for the love of all that is good and holy, do not do this. If you comment on other people's work, do it because you're happy to do so. When I released Paper Tigress, I went through everybody else who responded to the same prompt and read their work, because I had the day off and I was curious. This has led to Paper Tigress having more comments on Reedsy than one of my contest winners, and even outranking the shortlisted story in the same prompt category. However, this would have been a waste of my time if I did not genuinely enjoy reading the other stories. I read 80+ stories, taking several hours, and gained 30 comments from the venture (half my comments are my responses).

Crucially, I do not promote other writers' work on Tumblr in the hopes of them reading or boosting mine. This is the #1 tip I see thrown around that I viscerally disagree with. While, again, I am grateful for engagement with my work regardless of the context, I do not want people suffering through my work in the hopes that I will promote them. I work a full-time job, and my reading calendar is perpetually overbooked, including with work by my absolute best of friends. Even if it wasn't, I think it would be quite insulting if I were posting works in the hopes that someone would choke it down like medicine. I post what I think is good so that people can read and enjoy it. If you are not enjoying it, I do not want you to feel as though you have to read it. My aim is to give to others what my favorite authors have given me, which is most certainly not A Bad Time Spent Being Dishonest In The Hopes Of Getting Something Back. You have better things to do with your time. Please be honest.

CONCLUSION

Realistically, the readers I have, I gained through being a published author for five years promoting my behind off on Tumblr, the least forgiving social media for promotion. People like it when you have a book they can buy, especially if it has Goodreads reviews that make it look like you have been vetted for them. Many people who follow me have read only Something's Not Right and nothing else. (Many people who follow me have read everything but Something's Not Right.) I have posted dozens of pieces on Tumblr and Wattpad (and AO3). I gained a small number of readers writing and posting fanfiction for the Locked Tomb Tri(?)logy, even though I marketed it absolutely terribly.

Just keep writing. Keep writing, keep posting, and keep making sure everyone who follows you knows you write. And keep writing because you want to. There's no better advice than that.

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

ANOTHER CHAPTER ALREADY?!

I mean

I dunno what happened

It kinda wrote itself, I had no real hand in this

Please consult with my muses on the subject, I didn't know they were this cracked out tonight

Anyway awaaaay we gggoooooooooo

Flight Risk

Young!Mihawk x AFAB!Marine!Reader

Ch. 7 of something there's gonna be at least two more chapters

First Chapter link Previous Chapter link

Brief summary of The Story So Far: Your mission, as a Marine and Zoan type devil fruit user (gray parrot), is to gather intel on Dracule Mihawk, a pirate on the Grand Line who has become a thorn in the Marines' side over a relatively short period of time. He's discovered your secret, and your life hangs in the balance of his mercy.

Possible !!Trigger Warnings!! in this chapter!! Largely for imprisonment and psychological turmoil, though not necessarily psychological torture yet. I will say, for readers who are used to my writing characters with a relatively gentle depiction, I likely won't be taking quite as gentle of an approach here. There is some Yandere possessiveness prevalent here that I haven't written much before.

Tags: Enemies to lovers, eventually NSFW, idk maybe more later

Word Count: 3,095

Taglist: @i-am-vita @browneyedhufflepuff @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @littleleelee @nerium-lil @schanwow @dragon-bubs @animefreak818

I'm happy to add anyone that asks. Still flabbergasted that the list is this long.

I forgot to do a music thing last time bc I was so sleepy but I'mma do one this time but IT'S NOT FRATELLIS?? WHO IS EVEN RUNNING THIS BLOG?? SHOULD YOU CALL THE AUTHORITIES??

♫♬The Game- Disturbed♬♫

Tell me, exactly what am I supposed to do, now that I've allowed you to beat me?

Do you think that we could play another game? Maybe I could win this time

Dead, you were dead, he was going to kill you, and all he would have to do to get the job done would be to leave your right there in the shallows and let the tide slowly wash in until you were submerged, drained of strength and helpless.

To tighten his powerful grip around your neck until you ceased gasping for air.

To pull the golden cross from around his neck and plunge the small knife hidden within it into your torso, drag the sharp blade across your neck, watch the light leave your eyes.

So many ways he could kill you, in this very moment.

And yet his hand moved up your neck slowly, his grip unwavering as his fingers wrapped around your jaw instead. He tilted his head the slightest bit as he turned your head to one side, taking in your features with an air of both amusement and vague interest.

“And you were doing so well,” he said lightly, letting out a small sigh as he shook his head. You flinched as the rough pad of his thumb brushed across your cheek. “If you could have just refrained from making that silly little call to your boss last night—aw,” he added, an edge of mockery in his quiet words. “Did you think I was sound asleep the whole time? Poor thing.”

It hadn’t appeared as if he had done more than shift from his back to his side in the time you were gone last night—there had been absolutely no sign that he had gotten out of bed, not a single sound outside the cracked door of the study.

You should have known better.

“Though I must say, I do appreciate the vote of confidence.” Mihawk stood in a swift motion, tightening his grip around your jaw to pull you up with him, drawing a sharp gasp of alarm from you as your feet lifted a few inches from the ground. Still drenched in seawater, you didn’t even have the strength to lift your arms, held up only by his grasp, limp as a ragdoll. “‘No weaknesses.’ I’m almost flattered.”

You swallowed as he brought you closer, lifting his eyebrows a bit, the corner of his mouth curving the smallest bit into an almost imperceptible smirk.

“Provided it wasn’t a lie. You have quite the penchant for fooling others, it seems.” He quirked his brow a bit higher, his eyes darting up and down your limp form before settling back on yours. “Well? Was it a lie?”

“Mm—n-no,” you managed to choke out weakly, your eyes wincing and beginning to burn as his fingertips dug harder into your jaw and cheeks. “No…”

“No?” he repeated lightly. “Now, I’m sure you can do better than that, considering how polite you were with your employer last night. And I’m afraid it’s not them you’re answering to anymore. Try again.”

You swallowed dryly, your eyes flickering down toward his hand. “N—no, sir,” you whimpered.

“Ah, much better. Now, then….” The spark of amusement remained present in his yellow eyes as he rubbed his thumb against your cheek once again. “I suppose we should get you back inside and dried off, yes? I’d hate to see you get sick, pet.”

Your stomach felt as if it had dropped out of your body when he lifted you abruptly and flung you over his shoulder, your consciousness wavering between the complete sapping of your strength from the seawater still drenching your clothes and the state of shock you were left in. You drifted in and out during the trek back to the castle, your muscles limp and useless. You didn’t jolt back to a remotely aware state until he heaved you off and dropped you onto the cold stone floor of an unfamiliar part of the castle.

“I do just hate to have to cage you after all this time,” he said as you gazed around, your eyes squinted against the darkness. Judging from the lack of windows, you were below the ground level—and this was confirmed when he lit a torch along the wall opposite the one you were leaning against. “Nearly two months, it’s been, hasn’t it? Hmm. How the time flies.”

The dim orange light of the flame expanded as he lit another, and you realized he had deposited you in a small, square cell. The stone walls and floor were the same as the rest of the castle, if a great deal dustier, but the heavy iron bars and door made it clear that you were in the dungeon beneath the fortress.

“But, you’ve really left me no choice,” he went on with a soft, disappointed sigh. You could just make out his silhouette against the flickering firelight, the rattle of chains as he dug around in the drawer of a heavy desk just within your line of sight. “At least for now. I can’t have you escaping before we have a proper discussion about…” He lifted a heavy pair of iron shackles, examining them before giving a short nod. “About several things, really.”

He stepped slowly into the cell, his pace one of leisure, and stopped a few feet away from you, looking down at your pitiful form as you leaned back against the stone wall of the cell, struggling to steady your breathing, shivering in your damp clothes. He frowned as he looked you up and down, and gave a nod toward you.

“Off,” he said, his voice low but commanding enough that you jumped slightly, your brow furrowing as you tried to discern his meaning. “Off,” he repeated. “Can’t have you getting sick. We have a great deal to talk about.”

Your clothes. You glanced down at the wet fabric clinging to your skin, your stomach turning—he was telling you to get out of your clothes.

“Oh, modest, are we?” he said dryly, lifting an eyebrow. He took another step forward, crouching in front of you. You flinched back a bit when he reached a hand out and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Two months you’ve spent constantly at my side. I’m certain I’ve changed clothes in your presence more than a handful of times.”

“I...I didn’t...look,” you whimpered out, swallowing, closing your eyes as your face flared with heat.

“No, you didn’t,” he agreed. “I did find that curious, but you were quite the curious little bird.” You opened your eyes when you heard the chains of the shackles clink lightly, and watched as he stood, rolling his eyes as he turned around, his back to you. “Fine,” he said. “You may keep your undergarments. They’ll dry quickly enough.”

You almost wished that he had just killed you out by the shore. The embarrassment, the utter humiliation of pulling your tank top over your head and letting it fall to the floor with the towering form of the swordsman only a few feet away was enough to make you wish you could drop dead on the spot. You fumbled with your belt buckle, the buttons at the fly of your pants, before kicking them off along with your boots, wrapping your arms around your knees and clenching your eyes shut, trembling from more than just the cold, damp air of the dungeon now.

You heard a rustle of fabric in front of you, and before you could open your eyes you felt the material land in a heap at your feet. You cracked an eye open and frowned at the white heap.

Glanced up at him, your eyes widening as you realized he had removed his flowy, ruffled shirt, his back and shoulders bare as he crossed his arms, still facing the door of the cell.

“Put it on,” he commanded, stepping out of the cell. “And quickly. I pride myself on many things, my dear pet, but patience is not among them.”

You were already picking up the shirt and shrugging it around your shoulders before he finished, fumbling with the buttons with unsteady hands. The shirt was large enough on your much smaller form that it covered you from your shoulders to more than halfway down your thighs, the hem brushing your knees as you tugged it down, staring down at the floor, listening to the chair at the desk scrape across the stone. He set it down in front of you and tossed the shackles down at your feet, taking a seat and crossing an ankle over his knee.

“Those as well,” he said.

The moment your hand touched the shackles, you felt what little strength you had managed to regain begin to drift away from your body all over again. He chuckled when you drew your hand back as if you had been shocked.

“Seastone,” he said. “I salvaged them from the wreckage of a Marine vessel a handful of years ago. Thought they might prove useful one day. Go on.” He nodded down at them as you briefly met his eyes. “Around your ankles. So long as you remain compliant, I will allow you the continued use of your hands. You may need them at some point.”

You didn’t dare ask what that might mean.

You did, however, do as he told you. The seastone shackles felt as if they weighed fifty or more pounds, and it took some effort for you to drag them up even to the height of your ankles and clamp them shut.

“Very good,” he commended, leaning back in the chair and crossing his arms, his eyes never leaving you as you slumped back weakly against the walls. “Still such an obedient pet, aren’t you?” Every breath you drew in took a herculean effort, felt as if it might be the last you managed to draw before you passed out from sheer physical exhaustion. “Now, this is a first on my part. I’ve never been one to waste time taking prisoners. You ought to consider yourself privileged. Grateful for my continued hospitality despite your blatant betrayal.”

You swallowed, unable to do anything but give a weak nod.

He gave another small chuckle. “You’ve been trained to handle being the victim of a potential hostage situation,” he commented—it wasn’t a question. He cocked his head slightly to the side. “You’re quite small for a Marine. What rank are you, little bird?”

“Cadet,” you forced out—and, when he lifted an eyebrow, you quickly added, “s—sir.”

“Cadet,” he repeated, leaning back a bit further. “Hm.” He lifted a hand to his chin, his expression thoughtful as he brushed his thumb across his short goatee. “And they saw fit to send you after me.” You nodded again. “Your commanding officers either have a great amount of faith in your potential or they were trying to get rid of you. Which do you think it was?”

“T...they offered me the mission,” you said quietly. “I could have turned it down.”

“Faith in your potential, then,” he said lightly. “What a pity for them Of course, they weren’t wrong,” he went on, lowering his hand down to his knee, strumming his fingers there slowly. “You did play your role well. Well enough to fool that charming pet shop owner in Acacia, even. A veritable expert on the subject. You must have done your homework. Breezed through all your tests with flying colors. I did my own homework, as you know. Amid my reading, I recall mention that wounded or sick pets might show signs of decreased appetite. Interruption of sleep. In extreme cases, potentially isolating themselves from their owners. You see…” He tilted his head once more to meet your eyes, his gaze holding your own with an intensity that made it impossible for you to break the contact. “Had I not woken last night we might not even be having this conversation. Had I not noticed your absence and worried enough to go looking for you.”

Your worry over your mission. Your inability to eat or sleep regularly. Of course he had noticed. You were an idiot to think he wouldn’t have noticed.

“Had I not heard a voice coming from the study below my chambers,” he went on, lowering his voice, “you might have been able to complete your mission without a single hitch. I would have been forced to assume when you left that you had flown off somewhere to die.”

You flinched at that, closing your eyes and lowering your head.

“Oh, now what is this?” He chuckled. “Are we feeling guilty?”

“Yes.” You spoke through gritted teeth—there was no point in lying. You were already compromised, already at his mercy. “I…made the call last night because I…I couldn’t leave with nothing to show for it. Or without…” You swallowed once more, lowering your head to your knees. “I only had four days left. I was expected to slip away unnoticed and rendezvous with my commanding officers at a designated location before returning to Marineford to report on any potential weaknesses of yours I might have discovered.”

“And you claimed you found none,” he continued for you.

You nodded. “But...caring for another living creature is always a potential weakness,” you said quietly.

“Aaah.” You swallowed dryly, clenching your eyes shut tighter as you heard him push the chair back. The whisper of his boots on the stone floor as he took a step forward, the quiet rustle as he crouched down in front of you. “And you were unwilling to list your own presence as a potential weakness. Is that it?” You nodded again, and tensed as he caught your chin in his hand. “And here I’ve already admitted to having worried for the well-being of my pet. You certainly did do a stellar job, didn’t you, my little bird?”

His tone, his touch was almost gentle, despite that edge of persisting amusement at your predicament.

“Open your eyes.”

You obeyed his command once again—though your eyelids fluttered in your growing state of exhaustion brought on by the effects of the seastone shackles wrapped around your ankles, you did your best to maintain eye contact, only vaguely aware of his thumb brushing across your bottom lip as you gazed into his yellow irises.

“I may yet have use for you,” he murmured, his voice still light and amused. “I suppose you are a pretty little thing, if nothing else. And your abilities...well, you managed to fool me, now, didn’t you? Don’t,” he added, his tone sharpening as your eyes began to drift shut, and they shot back open. “There’s one more matter. You spoke of some offer while you were making your call last night. What is it?”

“W...warlord,” you forced out. “The World Government wants to offer pirates they consider too dangerous to combat status as ‘Warlords.’ No more than seven. Bounties expunged in exchange for an agreement to cease hostility against Marines and other World Government officials, and potentially being called upon to assist with other threats.”

“Warlords,” he repeated, letting out a quiet chuckle. “And you’ve been granted permission to extend me this offer?” You gave a small nod, blinking slowly, fighting to keep your eyes open. “Since you’ve reported to your commanding officers that I have no weaknesses they can exploit.” Another nod, and a quiet affirmative hum. “Mm-hmm,” he repeated, smirking. “I suppose it’s worth thinking over. At least until you’ve regained the ability to discuss the subject coherently.”

“Four days.” He lifted his eyebrows at your mumbling, waiting for you to continue. “Need to make contact in four days or they could send a Buster Call.”

“Ah.” His thumb brushed across your cheek, and you found yourself leaning unconsciously toward the warmth of his palm. “So they would sink this entire island into the depths of the ocean with you still on it, would they?” The hum you gave this time was neither affirmative nor dissenting—it was simply in acknowledgment that he had spoken at all, as your lessening coherency made it increasingly difficult to follow his words. “That does sound quite like the Marines. Heaven forbid they should have any loose ends to worry about.”

He expelled a slow sigh, one that might have been of resignation or annoyance, or perhaps some melding of both. Either way, the warmth of his breath across your face made your eyes drift shut, made you fall fully limp against the wall behind you.

You barely registered anything beyond that. Not his light shake at your shoulder in attempt to rouse you, his exasperated sigh as he caught you before you could fall sideways and hit your head against the stone floor.

Not his irritated grumble of, “Troublesome woman,” as he drew one of your hands up to cushion your head against the hard stone floor before he pulled himself to his feet to frown down at you.

To wonder why he hadn’t shoved his way through the door of his study the moment he heard your voice last night and throttled you in that moment.

To wonder why the hell he still had any concern at all for your continued safety and well-being.

You had spent two months, two months deceiving him, abusing his good will, masquerading as a loyal companion when you were nothing more than a dirty little spy.

His hands twitched into fists for a moment as he stared down at you, gritting his teeth. He could end your life right now. It would be only too easy. Crush your throat beneath the heel of his boot. Wrap a hand around your delicate neck until the labored rise and fall of your chest ceased entirely. You had already warned him of the Marines’ potential intent to destroy this island. He could dispose of you and leave on his own before that ever came to pass.

You shifted in your sleep on the cold stone floor, shivering slightly and laying a hand over the toe of one of his boots.

Mihawk swore under his breath, reaching behind him to drag the chair back into place and sit down heavily, crossing his arms over his chest as he surveyed your slight form below him on the floor covered only by his own shirt.

“What exactly am I supposed to do with you?” he grumbled under his breath, shaking his head, not completely aware himself of how his own gaze softened as he looked down at you. “Useless thing….”

His prisoner.

His pet.

His pretty little bird.

He would be damned if anyone but him were allowed to decide your fate.

First chapter and Previous chapter links again for your convenience

[ravenelyx]

I like you(r) - Sebastian Sallow

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x GN!Reader

Words: 1.3k

Chapter Warnings: fluff, kissing, Sebastian is whipped, just very soft, suggestive themes (barely), House or gender is not specified, (implied) established relationship, use of 2nd person for the reader

A/N: english is not my first language, so i'm sorry if i made mistakes; at some point words started to feel weird but hey, teeth-rotting fluff for you seb lovers

Summary: Sebastian likes a lot of things about you, like your sweet perfume... or your lips.

Masterlist

You can find the whole fanfiction also here on ao3 :)

"I like your hair." He smiled as you reached your hand up and tangled it in his hair, messing it up.

"I like your scent," he replied, nuzzling his face in your neck and breathing in. You stifled a chuckle.

"You could always borrow my perfume."

"I prefer a more... natural approach," he smirked, moving even closer.

You smiled as you leaned back against the tree behind you.

You and Sebastian had been hanging out under the beech tree, enjoying your free time.

"We should play a game," he had said, leaning his head against the trunk.

"What game?" You had replied, a little dazed by the relaxing atmosphere surrounding you.

"Every round we say something we like about each other."

You had giggled.

"You only want to play because you want to be praised"

He had nudged your arm. "Hey! I just want to compliment you."

"And you want me to compliment you"

He had scowled, and you had laughed. "All right, all right, I'm in."

And that's how it had started.

"I like your hands," you said, grasping his hand with your free one and playing with it, pulling it to your lips to leave kisses on his knuckles. Sebastian grinned.

"I like your legs," he replied as he grabbed them, draping them on his lap, and rubbing circles on your calves. He turned to look at you expectantly.

"Mm ..." You stroked his hair absentmindedly, "you have a nice nose. I like your freckles." You said with a smile but made no effort to move closer to him.

His eyes narrowed. "Well?"

"Well, what?"

"Aren't you going to kiss them, too?"

Your eyes widened. "All of them?" He nodded. "That will take a lifetime."

"I have all the time in the world."

You sighed as you gently held his face and placed small kisses on it. He closed his eyes, enjoying your proximity.

"Are you happy now?" You asked as he sighed softly.

"Very," he replied, his eyes still closed and a big smile on his face.

"Your turn."

"I like your neck," Sebastian leaned into you again, trailing down to place small kisses on the tender skin. Out of reflex, you pulled his hair slightly.

"Sensitive, are we?" You felt him smirk against you and blushed.

"Uh…" You began, trying to change the subject, as his lips gently brushed against you. "I like your eyes."

He looked up to meet your gaze. "I like the way you look at me"

"And how do I look at you?" He teased.

"The way you are doing right now."

He smiled softly. "I'll always look at you like that."

You blushed. "I sincerely hope so."

It was a silent promise of eternity from both of you, as young as you were, that struck both your heartstrings softly in a faint melody of innocent love.

You looked at him for a few more seconds before whispering, "Your turn."

He averted his eyes from yours, pondering on his next statement. A mischievous grin crept onto his face.

"I like your waist." He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you even closer. Now you were practically half-sitting in his lap as he gently caressed your sides.

You met his eyes again and beamed at his soft gaze, but he was getting a little too bold.

"I like your lips," you said, suppressing a sly smile, and his cheeks turned a deep scarlet. As close as you were, you felt his heart hammer in his chest and smirked.

"Sensitive, are we?"

His lips quirked up and he leaned even closer. "Well?"

"Well, what?"

"Aren't you going to kiss them?" Sebastian smugly spoke again, and you pulled him closer to you. His arms tightened around your waist as he placed a hand between your shoulder blades. Your lips brushed against his and you felt them tremble expectantly as he tilted his head. And then you pulled back.

He stilled, eyes still closed, and frowned at the sudden emptiness. His eyes fluttered open and you grinned when you saw the stunned look on his face.

"Wh-what? Why?" He moved his right hand to place it gently against the side of your face.

"Well, you know, I'm a little tired of playing and I think it's getting late. We should go -" He pulled you back to him and pressed his lips to yours, making you fall silent. His hand moved from your face to the back of your head, while his other arm encircled you completely and drew you closer to his body. You smiled and tugged lightly on his hair again, causing him to gasp and deepen the kiss. Your lips moved in unison for what felt like hours as he stroked your back, trying to reach under your blouse and touch your bare skin. You pulled back in response, but he chased your lips.

"Do I need to remind you –" you tried to say between kisses, "– that we're – in public?"

"Are we now?" He snarked, moving to kiss along your jawline. "I see no one."

He was partially right because the only other people around you were a couple of first-years sitting by the shore, who were definitely more interested in seeing the Giant Squid than they were in you two kissing.

"Still…" You smiled. "I'd like to reserve these… interchanges for a more intimate setting."

He groaned. "You should've worn your robes, that way no one would have seen this."

"I'm not wearing robes in this weather. It's way too hot."

"It could've been hotter."

You playfully punched his arm. "How graceful of you."

"You know it." Sebastian lifted his head again and pressed another small kiss to your lips. This time it was you who chased him, placing your free arm around his neck.

"Now who's the one who won't stop?" He grinned victoriously.

"As I said, I like your lips." You whispered against his mouth and he shivered. You smiled, leaning down and placing light kisses on his neck, nibbling at the skin. He whimpered softly and you looked at him with wide eyes. "What was that?" You teased him. His face turned red and he cleared his throat, trying to find a way to get back to you. Again.

"About that intimate setting you were speaking of…" He began, rubbing your thigh and watching your reaction to his touch, frowning when you showed none.

"Seb, we have class in about twenty minutes." He grumbled, letting his hand wander higher to tease you, but you were determined not to give in to him just yet.

"Come on. We'll be quick!" You raised your eyebrows and he blushed as he registered his own words. "Not– not like that!"

You laughed. "Maybe when we're free again, we can spend some time alone there." You said, tracing little circles on his shoulder. "And hopefully it won't be too quick."

His heart tugged at your implication, and he let his eyes wander over your body, deciding to to play along. 

"I've been thinking..." He said, gazing at you with half-closed eyes. "With the weather being so warm, it's not just your robes you won't want to put on, is it?"

You gaped at him, taken aback by his audacity. "How vulgar, Sebastian!" You shuffled in your seat, face flushed, suddenly all too aware of his hand massaging your clothed thigh as thoughts of 'what-Sebastian-meant-by-that' clouded your mind.

He smirked at your reaction, locking his eyes on yours and suppressing a chuckle. "I meant your jacket," he definitely did not, "what were you thinking of instead?" He asked, putting on his best performance of feigned ignorance. And you believed him.

Your eyes widened, suddenly ashamed of your inappropriate thoughts. "I... I mean, yes. I can leave my jacket in the dorm... if that's wh-what you want." He rested his hand on your hip and you gasped. Where was your boldness now?

"I'd like that." He pulled you closer to him and your arm slid behind his back. "In the meantime, until class starts, I want to kiss you again. Can I?"

Your arms tightened around him. "I did say I like your lips."

"I like your lips more," he closed the gap between you two and your eyes fluttered shut, "and I like you."

[ravenadottir]

ok, i understand why fusebox is taking down the old app from a financial perspective, and with it the first three seasons, but if that's not the biggest shot in the foot idk what is.

there are so many people that start playing the stupid games this shitty ass company puts out there because of said seasons, so like... no. it's by far the most commented seasons in any discussions on reddit and it's still a winner when it comes to fics and headcanon posts on tumblr, like ????

i get that it hasn't been lucrative for them probably (?) but it's a stamp of what fusebox used to be and how it could improve... and that empty promise of remastering the seasons to bring it back?

no thanks, i know y'all are gonna kill some storylines like you have been doing for 3 years now, so don't bother. just take down the only seasons that are worth playing so we can just get the fuck out of here and concentrate our attention on the fics.

now, i tried playing seasons 4 and 5, couldn't go pass a few chapters because everything seemed so stupid e pointless. i was determined to get through season 5 (don't ask me what dumb title it has, i can't be bothered to remember) but like, i couldn't ???

it was so disengaging i would rather do a jakub route and cheat so i can get dumped by returning!islander than going back and trying again. i guess this is it for me regarding fusebox.

and since i'm on the subject, i have been feeling like that for a while, just waiting around for a season that is worth my time, and it hasn't happened yet. i'm over this shitty company and whatever they released after season 2, that's just it.

if you like what they did, and has been doing, good for you, i can exist on this corner absolutely hating everything and you can love it all, my problem is with the company not the people that find joy with the work they put out here (which apparently there's a bunch of evidence of AI and it doesn't surprise me in the slightest). well, that's it. that's all i have to say on the matter.

i've barely been here due to several personal life issues, and i fucking guarantee my personal life and the gossip i've been digging up from my family would make a far more entertaining game than whatever the fuck they're doing now.

i'm still gonna continue updating the fics though, and maybe eventually turn my inbox on again ?

but for now, i'm still going through a lot and time has been wasted on multiple problems in my personal life, maybe i'll expand on those on a different post because i do need to shout into the void about everything that has been happening.

this post is not nearly as articulated as it could be, but that's just me venting. anyway, carry on with your day.

[forever-will-last]

Welcome to the Psych Ward! Fic Masterpost

A collection of one-shots set in a college AU featuring the insane polycule of Regina/Cady/Janis/Karen/Gretchen aka The Psych Ward.

(Each time a new chapter is uploaded, I edit this post and reblog it!)

Newest Chapter (All other chapters under the cut):

Chapter 23: Of Breakfast, Bathrooms, and Bears - Rated T - Kady: Karen’s having a really, really rough day. Cady’s there to cheer her up with one of campus’s best resources.

Chapter 1: Regina George and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day - Rated T - Psych Ward (Regina/Cady/Janis/Karen/Gretchen): Pure crack of Regina getting hit by progressively weirder things throughout the course of the day. Chapter 2: Late Night, Double Feature, Picture Show - Rated M - Psych Ward (Regina/Cady/Janis/Karen/Gretchen): Scary movie night, but only Regina and Janis actually enjoy scary movies. Things get a little spicy.

Chapter 3: (Ac)Counting on You - Rated T - Cadina: Regina’s struggling with accounting and goes to Cady for help.

Chapter 4: Red vs. Blue - Rated M - Nightmare Blunt Rotation (Cady/Regina/Janis): Janis mixes up two batches of brownies and accidentally gives the wrong ones to her girlfriends.

Chapter 5: Touch-A, Touch-A, Touch-A, Touch Me - Rated E - Regina/Janis/Gretchen: Gretchen suffers the consequences of being a brat during Halloween movie night. Sequel to Chapter 2.

Chapter 6: A+ in Pretty - Rated T - Fetchen: Gretchen and Karen come home from the bar after a few too many shots and get a little sappy.

Chapter 7: Paint Me Like One of Your Girlfriends - Rated E - Rejanis: Janis and Regina get heated with some rough and angry sex.

Chapter 8: Crunchy Tuna Surprise - Rated T - Regret: Gretchen isn't feeling well, so it's Regina’s time to shine in the kitchen. Only problem is, Regina’s recipes are… more slimy than shiny.

Chapter 9: Not Quite the Savannah - Rated T - Cadnis: Janis takes Cady on a surprise date after a tough exam. Part 1 of 3.

Chapter 10: I'M GONNA FIGHT THE SUN! - Rated M - Psych Ward (Regina/Cady/Janis/Karen/Gretchen): Janis is acting really weird, and no one knows why. 

Chapter 11: Clouds and Stars - Rated T - Dream Blunt Rotation (Cady/Gretchen/Karen): It’s Gretchen and Karen’s turn to help Cady relax after her big exam. Part 2 of 3.

Chapter 12: Meet the In-Laws - Rated T - Psych Ward (Regina/Cady/Janis/Karen/Gretchen): It's the first family weekend since the polycule became a full group of five, and it's time for everyone's parents to meet. Well, almost everyone's.

Chapter 13: Apex Predator - Rated E - Cadina: Regina’s got big plans for the grand finale of Cady’s pampering. Part 3 of 3.

Chapter 14: Tiny, Ineffectual Fists - Rated M - Jaren: Janis overhears someone insulting Karen.

Chapter 15: Whistle Janis - Rated E - Jatchen: Janis buys a new toy and wants to try it out with Gretchen.

Chapter 16: At Your Mercy - Rated E - Fetchen: Gretchen’s really pent up on campus, and in desperate need of relief.

Chapter 17: Torrential Downpour - Rated M - Psych Ward (Regina/Cady/Janis/Karen/Gretchen): When it rains like this, there’s no getting away from the past. For Regina, that means a painful reminder of what happened to her back.

Chapter 18: The Circle of Cake - Rated T - Kady: Karen’s latest baking endeavor leads her to make a special gift for Cady.

Chapter 19: Kiss the Cook - Rated M - Cadchen: Cady’s in a frustrating video call, but Gretchen is there to "help."

Chapter 20: Plushie Pandemonium - Rated M - Psych Ward (Regina/Cady/Janis/Karen/Gretchen): Cady’s bummed because she won’t be able to get a limited edition plushie. Her girls decide that simply won’t do.

Chapter 21: Five Nights at Cady's - Rated E - Cadchen: Cady wants to do some research, and Gretchen is always willing to be her subject.

Chapter 22: An Otherworldly Blizzard - Rated M - Psych Ward (Regina/Cady/Janis/Karen/Gretchen): Regina has a new drinking game for her girls to go with a show she wants to binge.

Chapter 23: Of Breakfast, Bathrooms, and Bears - Rated T - Kady: Karen’s having a really, really rough day. Cady’s there to cheer her up with one of campus’s best resources.

[owlobservation]

Interview with Itoshi Rin (Blaze Battle)

Taken from Blue Lock mobile game "Blaze Battle". Currently, the game is only available in Japan. I haven't played the game yet but thankfully a fan is kind enough to upload Rin's interview on youtube. You can check them here!

There are 10 Q&As in total, most of them are information that has been revealed in Egoist Bible and canon sources.

1. Where are you from?

Up until junior high school I played for Kamakura United Junior Youth. If you play soccer, you've probably heard of it.

2. What is your favorite food?

Ochazuke. I won't even complain if it's sea bream ochazuke.

3. What is your favorite animal?

Owls. They have good eyes. They're cute I guess.

4. What is your favorite subject

Physical Education and Art. English? That's a must for a soccer player.

5. What subjects are you weak at?

Calligraphy is so damn pointless. If you want to copy something, just use a copier.

6. What is your motto?

"The field is a battlefield." That's what soccer is to me.

7. What do you do in your days off?

Immerse myself in horror. Whether by playing games or watching movies. Back in the day it was only soccer...

8. What is your favorite movie?

I've only watched horror movies in these past few years.

9. Who is the person you admire?

Are we talking about soccer players? or....

Sae? ...Bastard, do you want to get killed?

10. What made you start playing soccer?

...Listen up. Don't ever ask me stupid questions again. Ask again and I'll seriously crush you. I'm dead serious.

===================================================

My Notes.

Q1. Rin played for the junior youth (U-15) division of Kamakura United. Sae used to be the ace of this team, winning Japan Club Youth Championship (U-15) when he was only a first-year junior high school student. He was scouted by Re Al because of this. (Light Novel). On his last year of junior high school, Rin also lead his team and won the U-15 Championship. I think that's why Rin answered the question with a bit of sarcasm. His club was pretty famous.

Btw, here's the club name in Japanese: 鎌倉ユナイテッド・ジュニアユース

Q2. Ochazuke (or Chazuke) is a Japanese dish made by pouring green tea, dashi, or hot water over cooked rice. Rin loves the one with sea bream. In Episode Omotesando oneshot, Rin said Ochazuke with sea bream is his tranquilizer* (精神安定剤）and he needs to eat it at least twice a month.

*Tranquilizer/sedative: something used to reduce anxiety, fear, tension, and stress.

Q3. "Owls. I'm fascinated by them. I think it's their eyes." (Egoist Bible)

Q4. He's already fluent in English.

Q5. "I hate having to write exactly as I'm taught." (Egoist Bible)

Q6. 「フィールドは戦場」 "The field is a battlefield" is what Sae told him. (Ch. 124). His other motto mentioned in Egoist Bible 「ぬるい」 "tepid/lukewarm" , is also what Sae told him from the same chapter. and night.

Q7. His hobby: Feeling the "chills" from playing horror games and watching horror movies. (Egoist Bible).

Q8. The Shining is his favorite horror movie (Egoist Bible). They didn't state that in the game for a reason I think lol.

Q9. The interviewer guessed that the person he admired is Sae which pissed him off. He didn't even answer the question. Anyway, the soccer player he admires is David Beckham. Rin said "I respect his kick". (Egoist Bible).

Q10. The question is harmless but Rin refused to answer again. The person who introduced him to soccer was Sae and it seemed like Rin didn't want to mention him at all...

[grimalkinmessor]

Fic Rec time because why not: Death Note Edition ✨

These are some of my favorite DN fanfics and I figured I'd share them with you :3 Even if you've probably already seen some of them.

I am also a multishipper so this going to LONG. Buckle in 🚀

Gen

Five Days by Shadow_of_Quill

Rated M. Noncon Warning. Several instances throughout the week where people don't keep their hands to themselves around Light.

Despite the serious subject matter Light deals with it in a very Light™ way. This is the origin of a few of my angstier Light headcanons.

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This Is How I Disappear by TzviaAriella

Rated T. MCD Warning. After an international tribunal condemns nineteen-year-old Light Yagami to death, the Kira Task Force must come to terms with the fallout of the case–and with Light’s surprising last request.

I'm pretty sure everyone's read this one at some point. It's a classic. Everybody's GOTTA read this one at least once. Angsty but it's hhhhhhHHHHHH 🙏 So good.

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And This Is All There Ever Was by Min Daae

Rated T. MCD Warning. In which Light has confessed, in order to win.

This one is technically lawlight, but it feels very gen to me so I put it NEAR the lawlight list. I love Light being a spiteful shit and this is him being spiteful to the very end. This man will do anything to win.

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Lawlight

Polarity by Writeous

Rated T. Some people are born with soulmarks: small, colorful images tattooed onto your skin that represent the people who would prove most important in your life. By all accounts, soulbonds are supposed to be beautiful, something to be cherished and revered over the course of your life. Light Yagami grows up with a bold, typeface L on his hand and a soulmate that hates him.

I'm obsessed with this fic. OB. SESSED. It only has one chapter so far but I love the dynamic on this one. I love soulmate aus but specifically the grittier ones. It has a MCD warning but as of now it's not applicable yet. Highly recommend.

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Time Speaks by aSmallMoon333

Rated E. In his first life, L died in the arms of his greatest enemy.

In his brief second one, he died alone.

And in his third, too-long life, L died anticipating finally getting even with the man who'd won their game one too many times.

And Light Yagami? If he'd known this is what picking up the Death Note would bring....well, he'd probably still have done it anyway.

This fic? Superb. Spectacular. I reread it at LEAST once a month. It has lodged in my brain and rots everything else around it I am so obsessed. L and Light are so unhinged and in love and petty and I love them. MCD warning, obviously, but it doesn't stick. This was my first fic back into the DN fandom and honestly I think it should be everyone else's too 🙏 My friends tell me they're getting back into DN and I immediately recc them this fic.

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louder then bells by relic_crown

Rated M. No one has ever seen Light’s soul, but it haunts his dreams as a monster: eyes bloody as sunrise, feathers tasting of citrus and sharpie fumes, breath hot as summer and twice as brutal. At first, he thinks the notebook itself is his soulmate. Then he tells himself Misa can be enough.

L ruins everything. For the first time, someone sees Light’s soul, and through his eyes Light knows it must look monstrous – why else would L be hunting him over it?

A soulmate/His Dark Materials AU—can you tell I have a thing for soulmate AUs? I adore the vibes of this fic, from the mystery of Light's soul, to L's distinct creepiness, to how Light views Kira :) I cannot explain that last bit to you, you're just gonna have to read it.

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Slow to Boil by TrashKing

Rated E. L has loved Kira since he knew there was a Kira to love. Unfortunately for him Light Yagami doesn’t quite understand the whole process of being seduced so L will have to take the frog in the pot approach to taming this beast.

I have a kink for L having a Kira kink, and this is one of my favorites to read when I have my 'I Need L To Be Obsessed With Kira' cravings. Very fun read, highly recommend ✨

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The Many Forms of Blessings by TrashKing

Rated E. Light was taken in by Wammy House after he lost his family in the accident. Now eighteen he finds it’s a tradition at the house that the best of every generation meet the mysterious creature who lives in the catacombs under the estate; L. Light is reluctant and that unease proves well placed when it’s revealed the graduates L likes never leave the underground.

And THIS fic is the one I circle back to when I get my 'I Need L To Be Obsessed With Light' cravings :3 Dark and beautiful in that Beauty & The Beast/Leda & The Swan way. I really love Light's characterization in this fic, as well as the darker take on the Light Grows Up In Wammy's trope.

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Rabbit Holes by TrashKing

Rated M. L Lawliet, head programmer and engineer for W&W Cybernetics, arrives at Tokyo-3 to fix a malfunction that killed eight people. The problem is that 'malfunction' turns out to be a newly sentient super computer called Kira. L disconnects him from the rest of the installation to begin a historic interrogation, but Kira might not be as defanged as L believes.

If you can't tell by now I am trash for TrashKing's fics—I can't help it I'm straight up in love with their Light. I would recc literally all of their fics but we don't got time for that, there's over fifty. This fic is fluffy and funny and really interesting, and it was a super fun read! I liked the inclusion of Ryuk and Light's very wholesome and yet still very Light™ reactions to human experiences :)

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Into The Grey by Kratos_Aurion

Rated E. Light is a young, hot, reclusive Omega who follows all the rules and does it all right. Except when he's sneaking out to capture criminals as the vigilante only known as Kira. L will always and forever be the world's greatest detective, but the Alpha might have a little competition in the Kanto region of Japan.

In a world just barely free of Omega oppression, these two geniuses find themselves in a race against the clock and each other.

VIGILANTE 👏 LIGHT 👏 I love this little scheming bastard. I love the twists and turns this fic takes and the persistent aura of dread and danger. I also just like it when L and Light bicker and fight and they do that a lot in this fic. A lot. It's great. I can't explain what else I particularly like about this fic without spoiling it, so you're just gonna have to read it.

.

Extrajudicial by Boo_Yeah

Rated M. L knows that Light Yagami is guilty. And he is forced to accept that he will never be able to prove it.

So, just this once, he decides to break his principles and go above the law. He kidnaps Light and takes him to Wammy's house.

He's sure that having the kids interact with a real-life mass murderer will be a very educational experience indeed.

Or: Light is Kira, L is sick of how easily manipulated the police are, and he secretly wants to see what will happen if he forces Light into a domestic situation with children just as intelligent as he is.

I am a person who really enjoys L Wins AU, so L yoinking Light from Japan just to hide him away in Wammy's to try and redeem (?) him all while Light kicks and screams is something that just speaks to me personally 🙏 L just wants to not kill his friend and Light just wants to continue to commit crimes, top tier story on God.

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Animal Games by tsukinoyagi

Rated T. Gone Girl AU. L has moved his lovely, vile, entirely batshit husband out of their beautiful Brooklyn brownstone into a Missouri suburb, then left him to his own devices. He is under the impression that this is going to end well.

This fic is beautifully written and it scratches that itch I have for malicious antagonism between established lawlight. These bitches are SO toxic and I love them. I really enjoyed the different perspectives just so you can see that both of them are unreliable narrators.

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Terraito

The Gods of The Godless by foreskinsmoothie

Rated E. Noncon Warning. Light was perfect. And now that he’s not, there’s just nothing left for him here, in this life.

After a night that ruined his life, left him crippled and spurred forth multiple failed suicide attempts, Light decides his best course of action is putting himself in the most dangerous situation he can think of and making grotesque gangsters do his dirty work. He slips into the sight of Ryuk, infamous for fucking male escorts, then killing them in a brutal blur. Or so those dark web message boards say.

Light’s fate is in Gods hands… or maybe a creature far crueler has plans for him.

I LOVE THIS FIC. I ADORE IT. It's dark and gritty, but as someone deranged about human (?) Ryuk and his and Light's dynamic, this fic is wonderful. The noncon is not between Ryuk and Light, but the descriptions are explicit so be aware of that. Both Light and Ryuk have my entire heart here no lie.

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Toes, Knuckles, Teeth by TrashKing

Rated E. Ryuk's always been good at bending rules. Shinigami aren't supposed to have sex with humans but, well, by his estimation Light is also a Shinigami.

This fic revolves in my brain at 3x microwave speeds, okay? I am studying this fic like it is the scrolls of old, alright? I hold unhinged amounts of feralness for this fic. It's a smutty little character study, and it has imprinted itself onto the back of my eyelids forever. This fic addresses every reason that I'm so obsessed with Ryuk and Light's relationship. SO GOOD 🔥

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Meronia

what doesn't kill me makes me want you more by neallo

Rated M. “Poor Near,” Mello says, stepping closer and pulling Near’s head back further, tilting her face up as Mello cages her against the wall. “How long have you liked me?”

Near’s heart is kicking against her ribcage so hard it almost hurts, and her ears are burning with embarrassment. She squeezes her eyes shut, unable to hold the blonde’s gaze. “Mello, I...” she tries to speak, hoarse.

“Has it been months?” Mello asks, her voice getting closer as Near feels her lean down. She braves a glimpse through her lashes and watches as Mello bends her head to brush her cheek against Near’s, putting her lips next to Near’s ear. “Years, maybe?” The older girl teases.

Near finds it in herself to squeak out a “yes,” and almost jumps at Mello’s sharp intake of breath.

“Years,” Mello marvels.

A Fem Meronia fic set in Wammy's era where Mello finds out that Near enjoys getting bullied by her—because Near has a MASSIVE crush on her. What more could you possibly want out of life? Amazing fic.

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The Archer Ensnared by jabbernatty

Rated E. Near has two goals: the first, to celebrate Mello’s birthday. The second- a secret. His methods for achieving these? Questionable.

THIS. FIC. THIS ONE. Near is my favorite levels of unhinged and this is so in character for me. I enjoy it a lot. If you haven't figured it out by now I enjoy romantic antagonism and problematic relationships and this fic has both 😍

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we will be better than i was by sahwen

Rated M. AU in which Mello swallows their pride and works alongside Near. Things aren't as different as one might expect.

Nonbinary Mello, domestic-edging meronia, and tragedy mixed in with funny shenanigans. The way this written is just,,,so pretty?? I'm in love with it. 10/10 it has everything.

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Matsulight

metempsychosis by palant1r

Rated M. MCD Warning. After the warehouse — it will always be "the warehouse" to him, a vague noun as a substitute for years of betrayal — Matsuda wakes up the next morning faced with a second chance. One day to fix everything, one day to build the January 28 he wants. And that day will repeat for as long as it takes to get things right.

He knows that he can't save everyone. But it would be nice if he could just save someone.

OR

Matsuda gets stuck in a time loop and the situation quickly gets worse.

This fic is a TRIP I tell you, but a very good one. Matsuda's characterization in this is so much fun. This fic is about the journey of grief and all the madness and moral contemplation that comes along with shooting the greatest mass murderer of all time who was also your best friend that you're in love with. Very good read.

.

Alive by still_lycoris

Rated M. Light Yagami is a Shinigami. And Matsuda has found the Notebook ...

This is such an interesting idea, I really enjoyed it. Matsuda's moral struggle seems to be a persistent theme in matsulight fics but honestly that's half the fun. Good fic 👌

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Birthdaymassacre

A Secret Note by KeehlingOver

Rated E. What Mello left out of his writings on the Los Angeles BB Murder Cases.

Or, these edibles ain't shi--

This fic is so fucking funny holy shit. Whenever I need a pick-me-up I reread this fic. It's T4T bdaymassacre, what more could you want?

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Aggressive Top by ThePunkRanger

Rated E. Naomi Misora isn’t about to admit that the mysterious detective Ryuzaki sparked something in her, but when he insists that he’s an “aggressive top” she just can’t let it slide. So she does something entirely unprecedented, and invites him over to prove it.

What has she gotten herself into?

Naomi is sick of Ryuzaki's shit, and Beyond has reverse-psychology-ed his head between Naomi's legs 🙏 This one is unfinished but it left off on a cliffhanger that drives me FUCKIN' NUTS BRO. FIRE.

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Playing The Part by ThePunkRanger

Rated E. Someone is kidnapping members of Southern California’s BDSM community, and the world’s greatest detective is in the market for a reliable team to go undercover on his behalf.

It’s been two years since the arrest of Rue Ryuzaki, the serial killer behind the Los Angeles BB murder case, and Naomi Misora has been happy to live her life under the assumption that she’ll never have to see him again. Unfortunately, L has other ideas; ones that involve her pretending to be in a Pup/Handler relationship with the murderer she put behind bars.

I'll be real and say that I wasn't sure about this fic at first, but it's actually very wholesome?? And respectful of the kink community! There's some extra angst in the background with L's controlling tendencies (there are cameras in that hotel room. I feel it in my bones.) and his and B's rough history, but honestly I think that makes it even more interesting. Top tier fic. 👌

[inkabelledesigns]

Clearly I must be in the mood to talk about indie horror games, because I have another one for you. Disclaimer: I do not care for Poppy Playtime. Which, probably surprises people. I love indie mascot horror, I love dolls and toys, it sounds like this would be a perfect fit for me on paper right? Yeah no, it is not my vibe. Poppy Playtime feels extremely corporate compared to other indie games, and that combined with the way it exploits children, a story that doesn't feel rewarding, and an art style/toy designs that just don't do it for me, it's not my cup of tea. I only remain aware of it because I have friends that are into it, and I check in to understand what they're talking about/in hopes that it'll get better. So far I have yet to be convinced of that, but I'm open to the possibility of that changing.

https://x.com/mobgamesstudios/status/1841161203701121122

But we're not here to talk about any of that (at least, not for a few paragraphs). We're here to talk about the Nightmare Critters. So teasers for Chapter 4 have just recently been released, and we have some newly revealed toys called the Nightmare Critters: an edgy, dark counterpart to the Smiling Critters we met in Chapter 3. I'm not opposed to their concept. It makes a lot of sense for a toy company to have a variant toy meant to appeal to an audience of middle schoolers and teens who think they're too old and "cool" for toys but still like toys. Like, what do you think Monster High was in the 2010s? XD Okay, that's oversimplifying MH, it wasn't made solely for that purpose, but you get what I'm saying right? It makes perfect sense to me for Playtime Co to be covering their bases in that way, they are a fictional company seeking fictional profit after all. That would be profitable in all likelihood! I'll even say I like the idea of having a poison dart frog as a plushie with Icky Licky (though the small tongue confuses me). I don't love the design, but I do love the idea of taking a less common animal for a plushie and trying it out, we need more good frogs to cuddle.

No, my criticism of the Nightmare Critters is that they do not feel like a natural progression of anything in this world with the story we've gotten so far. And there's many reasons I say that. Last chapter, there was a LOT of emphasis put on our Bigger Bodies Dogday being the last of the Smiling Critters. And that sequence was incredibly heart wrenching where he straight up gets eaten from the inside and his corpse is possessed. It feels like having a new group of critters diminishes that. Like, yes, they're a different brand, but they're still in the Smiling Critters style, and you expected them to be done with that after how much time they got in Chapter 3.

It leaves me wondering if the devs got the wrong message from Chapter 3. Because let me tell you, the Smiling Critters were not the thing that brought you success my dudes. They are a Care Bears parody that were designed for horror monsters first, cute toys second, and they fall into an uncanny place that makes me wonder why any kid would want this as a toy. Like, when you're twisting it into horror, it should be uncanny, but you gotta start out at least a little cuter to fake the audience out. The mouth design is very not to my taste, I might go as far as to call it ugly, but ugly is incredibly subjective.

But no, the things that made Chapter 3 stand out were in the shock value. Which, I still don't get why they literally spoiled one of their better scares in the marketing. Huggy coming out of the TV should have been a surprise, that was one of the most unnerving things they've done in its presentation. The speaking directly to the protagonist, the change in his demeanor, the way he's animated, it was SOLID, and they had to spoil it in the trailer AND on their Twitter. It annoys me so much, don't ruin the surprise of one of the scariest things you've done in this game. X'''D Who is responsible for that marketing, Mob? But that rant aside, Chapter 3 was shocking because it was NOTABLY darker and more complicated than what came before it. Getting into the orphanage, the gruesome death of Dogday on screen for us to watch, the TV scare, those were some of its best moments. This is when the game said 'we're not baby's first indie horror game'. Which, a lot of people are praising, but I took issue with it.

I have no problem with Poppy getting darker, that's perfectly fine, but I DO have a problem with them not having a clear age rating or content warnings on their game to accompany that, and then selling merchandise directly to children. Like, no, you do not exploit the children, Poppy merch should not be in the same aisle next to Mario and Pokemon, it should be in the collectibles aisle with the stuff for older toy enthusiasts. Toys are for everyone, but these are toys from a story about murdering children where murder is shown on screen. We should not be selling that to kids specifically. There should not be a "back to school" sale, there should not be things meant to be brought into an elementary school for these kids for a horror game that, in my opinion, you probably shouldn't play if you're under the age of 16. Steam as a service may be geared towards teenagers and older, but there are still plenty of neglectful parents that let their kids play anything on there. And while it isn't Mob's responsibility to parent these kids, it would be nice if they made an effort to give parents a clear warning that hey, this is probably not something little Johnny and Susie are ready for until they're a little older. There is no excuse for why Poppy Playtime doesn't have a T rating, ESPECIALLY after Chapter 3. Like, kids can handle horror, there is absolutely horror out there that isn't dumbed down that kids can partake in and be perfectly fine, but Poppy Playtime is not one of them. But that's not gonna happen, because the children are the audience members that keep this game profitable. It was likely built on appealing to them and getting their parents' money, and I don't like that. Maybe it's that I have a kid in my life and have seen the inappropriate things kids his age bring to school, because their parents aren't researching anything their kids are into, but it just bugs me something fierce.

The Nightmare Critters, to me, feel like a marketing move first and a plot move...not second, no, this is like a solid fifth priority. The Nightmare Critters are there to sell a toy. They do not feel like a natural progression of antagonists or toys to focus on in this world, and it's frustrating to see Mob neglect all the other toys they've established. Like, okay, where is Catbee? Where is Boogie Bot? I would kill to interact with Boogie Bot for a chapter. Where is Candy Cat trying to eat us alive or holding victims captive in its body? Where is a living Bron in something other than those videos outside of the game? Why do we have the little wuggies but not a variant of smaller Mommy Longlegs and her two family members? Why is Boxyboo in your spinoff game with no trace of him in the main game? Where did the flower you replaced with Bunzo go? As much as I don't love it, where is the Freddy Fazbear on the toilet toy? You littered the shelves with background toys, and most of them have never been expanded upon. Like, you have made SO MANY toys in this world before this point, why are we making even more of them instead of utilizing what you already have? I love getting new characters, but it sucks that we don't get development on the old ones. And also, it's more expensive! Like I knew these Nightmare Critters were coming early because the trademarks for their names leaked. Trademarks get expensive, and when you're introducing so many new characters that are also being merchandised as real world toys, that stacks up in a hurry! That's real money.

We know over the course of the last year that several of the key people who worked on Poppy have left Mob to pursue other things. And the marketing for Chapter 4 makes that very obvious. The fact that there have been tweets showing someone from Mob saying on Discord that the teaser trailer was made using an early build of Chapter 4 and it'll look different in the future doesn't inspire confidence. Why are you releasing a trailer using outdated materials that doesn't reflect the current quality of your game? That sounds like you aren't really ready to be releasing a trailer. Why release a trailer or teasers now anyway? Because it's October? Because the holiday season is coming up and you want to sell toys? Because other major indie horror releases are doing a lot right now and you want a piece of the pie? (BATIM Chapter 3's seven year anniversary, Zoochosis releasing, I'm pretty sure FNAF has been doing a lot too following its own 10 year anniversary). Like, does this make sense to be doing right at this moment? Is there something else coming that made it so there was pressure to do teasers right now? The next chapter comes out in January of 2025, but it begs the question, how far ahead do you have to be to effectively market that? I don't know, I don't do marketing statistics, but I'm sure they have someone on board to who does that thinks this is a good move.

I'm just...disappointed. I want Poppy Playtime to be better than it is, but it continues to miss the mark. Once the shock value of Chapter 3 being darker wears off, you're going to have fans complaining again that it didn't go far enough, or even that it regressed. There will always be people who love it and hail it as the best indie mascot horror ever, good for them, I'm glad they're having fun. But this thing isn't as good as it could be by any stretch of the imagination. And I don't get why. The chapter based release thing also plays a part in it all. Now, I'm not hating on chapter based releases, I actually like them. They offer a very natural space for theorizing and combing through the details to predict what will come next, and it gives people more time with your characters to get attached to them. By all means, it's not a bad strategy. That said, the devs have talked about having a clear vision for the story all the way through, but the game throws so much disjointed stuff at us each chapter that it leads to some doubts on that. Like, I get it when Bendy had that happen. BATIM was very much an accident, they didn't intend to make a full game after the first chapter's demo was up on Gamejolt. They did it to capture the lightning in a bottle and made it up as they went, and I'm more lenient because I understand the circumstances (though Dark Revival I'm not so lenient on). But Poppy has no excuse. Their moves are very calculated and corporate, and it feels like it's here to sell merchandise first and tell a good story/be a compelling game fourth. And that's probably going to continue. It's a shame.

There is one upside though. The fandom has a way of making this world compelling and fun. Seriously, the fan content is great, mad props to all of you fan artists of all mediums for putting your heart and soul into it. I think this is why Mob thought making more critters was a good move, there are so many fun pieces of critter fan content. But like, that's because the Smiling Critters are super easy to make a fan character or AU out of. Like that is a template. There's just enough characterization and vagueness around them that you can make a lot of things work with them for a story and have it sound sensical to most of the fanbase. And there's a lot of fun interpretations to play with. Is it my cup of tea? Most of the time, not really, but I admire the effort and passion that goes into it. That's valuable!

In conclusion, I don't think the Nightmare Critters are bad or even a bad idea, but I don't think their execution was handled well. Had they been foreshadowed in the previous chapters or featured alongside their smiling counterparts, maybe I would be singing a different tune. But as it currently stands, they feel out of place/out of nowhere, they have a real associated cost with trademarks, they take away time that we could be using to explore other established toys, and it feels like they exist for marketing and merchandise rather than a natural progression of the world. Maybe I'll be wrong and they'll actually be a fun and creative addition to Chapter 4, I'm open to that possibility. But as it currently stands, they don't inspire confidence for me personally.

That said, I am mildly curious for what Simon Smokes is gonna be. Like, we know we're getting a mako shark and an alligator, but Simon Smokes could be many animals. So far I've heard either a skunk or a dragon, y'know to be a counterpart to Craftycorn. I'd actually like to see their take on a dragon, could be interesting.

Don't expect me to talk about Poppy Playtime often. I tend to keep my more negative thoughts to myself because I find that to be kinder, especially with indie games and productions. Like, who am I to yuck someone else's yum? My belief is that indie games come from a place of passion, a desire for freedom to create in ways you can't at a triple A company. It's about the art and making something that is meaningful on an individual level. Making an indie game is a real risk, it's vulnerable, it's scary, and I applaud anyone brave enough to put themselves out there and try. That's NOT easy! But Poppy Playtime, at this point in time, is handled by Mob, which, for all intents and purposes, operates as a company. They may be classified as an indie, but they don't appear to have the same heart as other indies. And that's part of what turns me off from them. You can make amazing art and be conscious of the bottom line/make profit, by all means, that's important and doable, you need that to survive. Just, sometimes it feels like this leans more in the direction of the profit than it does the art. And there's something about that that I don't vibe with. But maybe I'm wrong. Maybe they do have that heart and I'm just not seeing it, maybe I have it all wrong. I think, framing it as "this is how it appears to me" rather than "this is definitively what it is" is valuable.

I was chatting with my mom recently about leaving reviews on things, and her insight was really interesting. My mom reads a lot of books from independent authors, and she tends not to leave reviews, but she definitely doesn't leave negative reviews, even on the worst books with horrible grammar and no cohesive plot. She said she'd feel awful doing that, because that's messing with someone's livelihood, and you just don't do that. I see where she's coming from. I also don't want to mess with something that puts a roof over someone's head and keeps food on their table. It's tough to know where to draw the line between being constructively critical for the sake of being informative/educational about creating better art and doing something that will negatively affect someone else's life in ways beyond that critique. Like, I have the hardest time talking about Bendy critically because I don't want to hurt anyone, be that other fans or the people I know who have worked on it and put their all into that. I don't know if I'm doing the right thing by talking about all of this in a Tumblr post. I want to be thoughtful, I want to analyze media, really think about the "why" of it all. But there's got to be a way that does it that makes sense and respects all parties involved. Because regardless of how respectful those around me are, I want to be respectful. That's my standard for myself. I'd love to hear your thoughts on the matter. How do we go about being critical while also being thoughtful?

[magic-is-something-we-create]

Writeblr Re(rere)intro that's a year late!

Hi! I'm Pax, and I write Big Books that keep getting darker and darker in subject matter 🎉🎉

Basics about me:

he/him or they/them, Mid 20s

Favorite genres: Fantasy, SciFi, Horror, Mystery

Favorite authors: N. K. Jemisin, Tamsyn Muir, Brandon Sanderson, Pierce Brown, Samantha Shannon

Other things I do: Digital art (including commissions!), Twitch streams (usually art or writing sprints, occasionally video games), digital art assets and fonts (PWYW on Ko-Fi!)

Basics about my WIPs:

THE MILLENNIUM SAGA

High fantasy/Steampunk epic, 8 books planned. Book one: Firebreathers (160k words; ~700 pages) Book two: Echoseers (148k words; ~600 pages) Book three: Goddess-Touched (15k as of posting; 3rd attempt at drafting) First person, Multi POV What starts as a simple rebellion against their local Citylord becomes a flight - and fight - for their lives, as Ember Timber, their family, and their newfound friends are forced to flee overseas from the vengeful general who will stop at nothing to earn her Eternal King's favor, and will in fact relish hunting her own son and grandchildren for sport. But along the way, the crew learns that the Eternal King's immortality was not granted in return for his success as the Chosen One long ago, as they have always been told - and the sacrifice for such a thing is not only paid dearly in blood, but on its way to being repeated.

WHISPERS

Dark fantasy Noir. Currently with beta readers. 172k words; ~750 pages. First person, Dual POV. Set in the same world as Millennium Saga, ~5 years after the series concludes. Marika Swiftfoot owes her life to the Shadow of Fowden, the sorceress leader of a terroristic crime syndicate based in the north pole. When the man she once loved finally comes to collect on that life debt ten years later, she plans to kill him the moment it's safe. Too soon, after all, and everyone else she's ever loved will join him beyond the Veil. But hate isn't the only feeling that lingers between them, and when they're offered another way out of their debts, the lives of a few innocents looks like a bargain compared to the life of cruelty ahead of them. Lorelei has been hunting the Shadow for twenty years, and looking for the sister who disappeared for thirty. And here, names are legacies: she wants to earn Hopebringer before her legs give out for good, to erase the stain her father's name has left with Vowbreaker. And for that, she sees one way forward: she must never break her vows, no matter how small. The Shadow must die, and the Whispers with her. Her sister must be found, even if all that's left to find is a story. She must find answers for every case she takes on, even if she doesn't know so much as the name of the man who's gone missing.

THE LOST

Space opera webcomic. First scene fully illustrated; will release once the first chapter is complete, a week after Patrons receive the final scene. In the far reaches of space, the term "Media Empire" is quite literal; the Watchers have extended their influence throughout their galaxy filament with the help of their beloved Coliseum, and the Champion therein. After all, having a shapeshifter capable of replicating anything leads to some gruesome, spectacular fights, made all the more heartrending when they are the last of their kind, trapped in the ship molded from their kin's corpse. But while the Watchers have total control over what happens in the pit, they cannot predict the audience. And they certainly cannot predict the malfunctioning psychic implant of an assassin in the front row, and the loss of both opponents and a long-time prisoner of war to the escape.

I also post art of all of these semi-regularly, including in-progress stuff, as well as excerpts and rambling braindumps!! I'm also a huge worldbuilding nerd, so if you ever want to learn more about the worlds I'm writing, don't be afraid to ask!! I love talking about them :D

Boosts are appreciated <3 tell me about your own WIPs in the tags/replies/wherever!! I love learning about what people are working on!

[whats-she-gonna-post-next]

So I just finished binding Trust Life by the absolutely amazing @chaiandsage (Hello, I am ready to be perceived now, I hope that I have done your story even the slightest bit of justice) and I just wanted to make a post both showing it off, and going through what I learned doing this bind because I did a few new things here and want to talk about it.

Also I'm not going to subject you all to this, so most everything but the final product here is going to be below the cut.

(Also so sorry that the photos aren't the best. I am... Very bad at photography, lmao)

Ok, so let's start off with some of the cool things I learned during this bind. Or, maybe not necessarily cool, but they are things I learned and I think that learning is cool!

First off, I learned how to download and add fonts to Microsoft Word, which while not interesting, does open up a whole world of fonts for future binds. Is it a little late in the game to have found this? Probably. But it is what it is. I actually downloaded a pretty good chunk of different ones, but the fonts I actually used were MF Love Dings for the heart motif dividers, which was a new download, and then a few standard fonts - Edwardian Script ITC for the title pages, Baskerville Old Face for the chapter headers, Book Antiqua for the chapter titles, and good old Garamond for the actual text of the novel.

Here is the divider and the title fonts. I just think they are neat.

Another thing I learned was how to make book cloth! I found these squares of white cotton fabric at a dollar tree and decided to give it a go. The way I did mine was by painting them first (a task in and of itself, and as you can see on the cover, did not turn out super even, but I love them nonetheless) and then I glued down a layer of tissue paper to give it a little stiffness and make it stick to the chipboard easier, it was a super cool process and I look forward to trying it again in the future now that I have done it once and have a better idea of how I can improve in the future

And now onto some of the other cooler parts of the process!

So I had a lot of fun doing the formatting, it's my favourite part of any binding process, I cannot tell you how many fics I have formated that I have yet to print out and actually bind because I enjoy the process so much (the answer is actually 5 that are completely formatted and ready to go, 3 that I am actively in the middle of formatting, 4 projects completed - including this one, which... may technically count as 3, granted 2 of them were gifts for other people - and 3 that I am planning on doing that I haven't gotten to start on yet. Oh, and a 5 part series that I have printed out but haven't actually bound yet. I have a problem, lmao.) As I mentioned, I downloaded a few fonts for this but it just ended up looking so good in the end. Here is what some of the inner formatting looks like (I did just take the screenshots from word, I thought it was easier than getting the pages in the book)

Something else! This was the first time I actually broke a single fic into multiple parts, and I do not regret it. Each section is fairly large on its own, so it would have been a monster all together. I gave them basically the same title pages and such, just used the main stories summary for all of them and copy pasted everything - work smarter, not harder - and kept the same format for the chapters and such. There were 2 obvious spots (at least imo) for breaking things up, those being at the end of chapter 24, and then again at the end of 57, if you know, you know. However, that made the divide be 24 chapter, 33 chapter, 9 chapters. I was a little worried about how that divide to affect the look of the books, but I was pleasantly surprised how well it worked out. Book 2 there is quite obviously the largest part (it's basically double the length of book 1) but book 3 was surprisingly long for being only 9 chapters and I think they look fairly cohesive together. I didn't realize how long the last nine chapters themselves were. The first and third ones are actually about the same size together as book two, which is pretty cool!

When it came time to put together the actual books, I stuck with my tried and true french link stitch, as I find it to be a sturdy stitch, and then used green, yellow, and red card stock for the end pages, I felt it thematic.

I'm super excited to have this as a physical book now, thank again to chaiandsage for allowing me to bind this amazing story and just for writing it in the first place! I read it like twice in the span of a month, and I swear I have read chapter 57 and 58 themselves way too many times to count. Not even going to mention the amount of times I read the last 6 chapters because I just love a good happy ending.

But yeah, I'm really happy how this bind turned out, I still have to put an actual cover in these - which I plan on doing, I have a friend who is going to help me with the cover design when they are free, so there will be an update at some point.

[celeluwhenfics]

hihi I don’t know if you’ve ever talked about this before and I missed it but here are a few things for you to rant more on pHORSEsuasion as there cannot be too much of it for us to delight.

How was the story and character of Rowena born? Like, if you could remember and retell, the moment you first realised to yourself that you would be writing her in the fashion of Austen? Was it a very long journey that slowly took shape, or an idea that hit you square on the head?

Is there a set time and location you have to write the fic out? Anything from real life that inspires you and you take inspiration from? I think I remember you loving horses (in a club?) and that sparked the love for Rohan? …or is it an anecdote of one of the many Rohan buddies on tumblr….😭

Is there a playlist, specifically, you’d have for the story?? A pinterest board perhaps? 👀 anything about pHORSEsuasion please

On a scale of 1-5 how much would you say the ideas and thoughts relating to the fic occupy your mind throughout the day?

thank you in advance if you ever get around to answering and talking more about this beautiful fic <333 i also read the short about “the creek game” which is utterly amazing.

don’t you worry overmuch about taking your time to work your best on the chapters! even in these intervals your nice story occupies my mind frequently just to think of Bréda

Hi! Thank you so much for your ask! It makes me happy and giddy that someone is still thinking of pHORSE (and dear Bréda! ❤️) even as chapter 2 is taking a long, long time to come out. I've been hard at work on it. It is coming SOON!

It's exactly as you say: the idea hit me square in the head. I hadn't interacted with LotR in a decade, didn't know AO3 or fandom communities existed. I watched the movies with my partner one weekend, and as I tried to fall asleep that Sunday night, the idea of Éomer as Captain Wentworth sprang all formed in my head. And when that horrible pun found me as well, I knew I was onto something. 😅 The next day I wrote the outline, and in its broad lines it hasn't changed since, it only got more refined and detailed as I reacquainted myself with canon!

I am a horse girl! But I don't ride anymore for various reasons. Not much of the story is related to my real life, although every natural landscape, historical tidbit or little everyday situation can inspire me. (Oh yeah and I almost forgot to mention, but last month I went to Bath to see the original setting of Persuasion for myself...) I mostly write at home on the weekends, but I also have written LOTS of thoughts and ideas on the Notes app on my phone, either on the bus, at work, on runs... I've also been known to stop in my tracks in a grocery aisle or step off my bike to note down an idea or a line of dialogue!

I always write in complete silence (and I don't have pinterest), but in a past life I studied musicology with a speciality in early music, therefore YES, there will be some very specific musical references, which I will share on this blog of course! I've done a post on the two songs mentioned in chapter 1. There won't be any music in chapters 2 and 3, as it's a very bleak time in the story and silence takes a lot of room, so to say. (But I have a Borodred one-shot WIP that I don't know how to wrap up, that is very musical, you might see it one day!)

*nervous laughter* I would say it varies between 2 and 5. It's been months, and every day it's somewhere in my mind. Which is not always convenient, because I have a PhD to do!!! And at some point since my brain wanted to think about it 12 hours a day no matter what, I lost a lot of sleep over it. I had to find a better balance, because sleep is important, and once again, I have a PhD to do, on a subject I'm very passionate about!!! But, yeah, if I could write all day every day and churn out chapter after chapter for my lovely readers, I would!

Thank you SO MUCH for your ask, I'm always super excited to talk about pHORSE! Even if there has been no recent update, the project is very much alive, I'm working tirelessly on it and thinking about it all the time. Don't hesitate if you have more questions! And stay tuned!!! 👀

[spectrechosts]

Better Off Alone - Chapter 4

The Princess puts together a scheme to seduce her knight, but will it go to plan?

This chapter is so fucking long. Fun fact, the sex scene is the first thing I wrote for this series!

Full Series

In the dead of night, after a lifetime of shouldering the crushing expectations placed upon her by her birth, Princess Lunaeris ran away.

She disguised herself in the garb of the common folk, covered her face with a hood and mask. Outside the capital her appearance was practically unknown. She could be just another wanderer drifting from place to place, subject to no one's whims but her own. She just had to get out of the castle unsee-

"Princess."

Damn.

Lunaeris had expected Kallixenia to find her, counted on it really. Spending time alone with her was half the point of the whole thing. But not that quickly. Perhaps she had gotten rusty, it had been years since she felt rebellious enough to actually sneak out.

"Kallie! You're up late."

"So I am, Princess." Kallixenia said, her arms crossed and her face dour. "I was just settling into bed when the strangest thing happened. Someone slipped a note under my door saying that they had run away and I was under no circumstances to follow, along with an outline of where they were going and the exact route they would take to get there."

"Wow. That is strange."

Goddammit, she was supposed to find that in the morning. This was what she got for trying to be cute about it, Lunaeris supposed.

"Very strange, Princess. And what's strangest of all, is I've been very accommodating of said person's schemes, so I just don't understand why they would want to make my job difficult like this." The paladin said, pinching the bridge of her nose.

Ugh, she wouldn't like this. Lunaeris rubbed the back of her neck ashamedly.

"Maybe, ah, maybe they wanted to give you plausible deniability? So you wouldn't get in trouble when the two of you came back?"

Kallixenia sighed.

"Princess, I would much rather share the blame than put you in danger. We leave together."

The Princess blushed. She was a capable mage, she hated being treated like a defenseless maiden, so why the fuck did it feel so nice to have Kallie protecting her?

She had had enough, tonight she was going to do something about all these things her knight made her feel. No more games.

"Tomorrow. When I'm prepared to run off in the middle of the night." The half-giant continued, yawning. "Go back to bed, Princess."

"Fair enough."

Tomorrow night she was going to do something about it.

~

The next day was normal.

Lunaeris woke around noon, lounged in the gardens, had an only mildly uncomfortable meal with her father, watched her knight spar with the other guards, retreated to her room to… clear her head.

And then the two of them snuck out together. Got on their horses and plodded through the empty streets of the castle town in silence. Lunaeris felt like she might throw up she was so anxious.

Getting caught sneaking out on her own was one thing. She was the Princess, the worst that would happen was more guards around the gates for a few weeks. Her knight aiding her though? Even if she swore up and down it was all her fault, Kallixenia would be fired, if not executed for treason and kidnapping.

It wasn't until they were well outside the town's walls that she relaxed.

"My way would have worked fine." She grumbled. "Damn near had a heart attack I was so worried."

"This was safest, Princess." Her knight replied.

"For me, maybe. What if we got caught and I couldn't protect you?"

"Oh, I very much doubt that would happen, Princess." Kallixenia said, with a wry smile. "You can be quite forceful."

Lunaeris pouted. "Yes, well, I still didn't like it. Don't disregard your own well-being for my sake." She said.

"My apologies, Princess."

"That's another thing, you need to stop calling me 'Princess'-"

"We talked about this already-"

"-Or we're going to get caught. Call me your lady, if you must."

"...Right. Of course, my lady."

"Be a lot less suspicious if you just treated me as an equal and called me by my name, though. It's common enough."

"It... wouldn't be proper, my lady."

"Fine." Lunaeris shrugged. "Traveling noble and her hired goon it is, then."

"I am not a hired goon!" Kallixenia protested. "My order is one of the most prestigious-"

"Yes, yes, you're so honourable I can scarcely believe it." Lunaeris said, giggling. "Traveling noble and her loyal knight. Forgive me."

"I-I could never ask for an apology-"

"Gods, we must find a way to loosen you up." She said, still grinning. "Imagine all the fun we could have."

That was the entire plan, really. There was something between them, she could feel it, she just had to get the two of them out of their respective roles of princess and knight so that they could do something about it. The trip to visit her mentor had been nice, but not enough. Now that they were on the run, a whole world of possibilities opened up. Even just the jump from princess and knight to noblewoman and knight was a step in the right direction.

"May I ask why you care so much about decorum?" She asked. Her knight shrugged.

"It's just part of being a paladin. I have to give a good impression or it reflects badly on my entire order."

"So you don't care, other people do?"

"You could say that. Those who pay for a paladin's protection typically care more about it than you do, and the church likes to keep them happy."

"Do I want to know how much my father is paying for your services?"

"…You don't seem the type who would find joy in it, no."

Lunaeris rolled her eyes.

"So what, your prestigious holy order just guards stuffy rich dickheads?" She asked, incredulous.

"Not the entire order, just those of us who take the oath of the Bulwark." Kallixenia said. "Truthfully, I have become a little… skeptical, of the necessity of it all."

Lunaeris' eyes widened. "I've made you disillusioned with your religion? I knew I was a handful, but wow."

"No! My lady I would never- I- What I meant was, I'm starting to feel like maybe my role is less helping people in need and more… filling the church's coffers."

"My knight! Are you saying your time would be better spent helping mere peasants than your princess?" Lunaeris exclaimed, putting her hand to her chest in mock outrage.

"…You're teasing me." Kallixenia said.

"I am, yes. Helping peasants would be a better use of your time. You've stumbled upon the great secret of royalty, it is all very stupid and pointless and self serving. And I'm not even having fun with it! What a scam."

"Maybe things would be better, were you not royalty." Kallixenia mused.

"Oh?" Lunaeris said, trying hard to sound disinterested. "Why is that?"

Kallixenia cleared her throat.

"Forgive me, my lady. I misspoke." She said.

No!

"I think some things would be easier. Courtship and such." Lunaeris said, trying to prompt more out of her.

"Perhaps they would be, then."

Engage with the topic, you gorgeous oaf!

"Maaaaybe while we're hiding that I'm the Princess, we'll find out?" She said, leaning towards her knight expectantly.

"I… don't know that that would be wise, my lady." Kallixenia said, looking away.

"I hear people enjoy being unwise, sometimes."

"Do they enjoy what comes afterwards?"

"Some things are worth the consequences. Like sneaking out!" Lunaeris said, gesturing at their surroundings. "Aren't we having fun?"

"I do enjoy speaking with you like this, my lady." Kallixenia said, smiling gently. "It's nice to see the real you. Were you not forced to keep up appearances, I could see more of her, I imagine. And I think we'd both be happier for it."

"Yeah!" Lunaeris agreed, blushing. "I, I think so too."

That was, that was something, wasn't it? If they were understanding eachother right, that was basically Kallie saying that she would be interested if not for the difference in status. It was practically a confession, if she thought about it.

This plan was going great, and they hadn't even gotten to the meat of it yet.

It was a little past sunrise when they reached their first stop, an inn in a small township. Lunaeris quietly bought them a room while Kallixenia stabled the horses, and the two of them went to get some sleep.

"Oh my." Lunaeris said, as they entered their room. "There's only one bed. Whatever shall we-"

Kallixenia silently took her boots off and flopped into the bed.

"Hey!" The Princess complained. "At least pretend something might happen!"

Her knight yawned and bundled herself in blankets. "I'm very tired, and despite your increasingly unsubtle advances, I don't think you the type to ravage me in my sleep. Goodnight, Princess."

"…Not even a little worried you might be so overwhelmed by emotion you forget your duties?"

"Perhaps when we wake up, Princess."

Lunaeris stood silently, a battle raging inside her between frustration at the complete lack of tension this had caused, and the fact that she was also very tired.

"Well, don't hog all the blankets." She said, climbing into bed next to her and settling in for the night. Morning? Whatever.

~

She didn't know what she had expected.

She was the one who was reduced to a blushing mess by Kallixenia, not the other way around! Why on earth would orchestrating this cliche reverse that? Stupid stupid stupid stupid!

And now she was trapped, the paladin having ensnared her in a tangle of muscular limbs while the two of them slept. She couldn't move she was being held so tightly, her face was buried in the knight's chest, it was-

Well, it was heavenly.

But awful! She was meant to be seducing Kallixenia so she could stop yearning and be normal! Not falling deeper into her own mania while the knight slept, completely unaware of her.

How cruel of her, to do this and not even be the first to wake up. She should have been flustered, not Lunaeris! She had half a mind to wake her, but, well, it was quite cozy. And she was a firm believer in remaining in bed for at least half an hour after waking up.

The half-giant's chest rose and fell in slow, deep breaths. Her steady heartbeat thrummed through Lunaeris' head, and she could feel her own slowing to match it as she relaxed into her.

Schemes and seduction could wait, she could just… enjoy the moment. Pretend the rest of the world didn't exist. Just the two of them. Let her eyelids grow heavy, and just…

"A-Ah!"

Lunaeris grumbled as her knight woke with a start and frantically tried to make space between the two of them, falling off the bed with a loud crash.

"Kalliiiieee." She whined, not even able to enjoy that her knight was flustered, focused entirely on the sudden lack of cuddles. "Come baaaaack."

"I, we shouldn't, Princess."

She blinked the sleep from her eyes. Had she fallen back asleep?

"Mm. Tragic."

"I know, Princess. Forgive me."

She sat up and stretched, and noticed her knight looking away respectfully.

"Heaven's sake, Kallie, I'm fully dressed! There's not even anything to see." She yawned.

"Yes, well, wouldn't want anyone to think I was imagining."

"I'd be thrilled, and I don't see anyone else around." Lunaeris said, lazily combing out her bedhead with her fingers.

"Gods are always watching, Princess."

"I'm amazed they had time to train you to fight so well, between all the lessons on manners and never thinking about having fun. Breakfast?"

"That sounds nice, Princess."

The two of them made their way downstairs to the inn's tavern and ordered themselves some bowls of a fragrant stew at the recommendation of the barkeep. Lunaeris burnt her mouth scarfing it down as fast as possible, and got to mingling with the other patrons.

There was a group of laborers who had been raising a barn, a baker who always made the tavern her last delivery of the day so that she could stay and relax (Lunaeris purchased a slew of buns from the barkeep at her insistence, dropping most of them off with her knight before resuming her socialization), but who she was really enamored with were the adventurers, passing through on their return from some ancient ruin.

They had just fought a dragon. A dragon! In her own kingdom! And she had no idea! There was such excitement to be found, even so close to home, and she just rotted away in a castle. How she wished she could be like them.

And they were so nice! She told them about how she was a wizard but her teacher kept her working on trivial cantrips so she had to steal his books and teach herself, and they all thought it was really cool! Their wizard even suggested some particular spellbooks to be on the lookout for, and they said that she should definitely check out the adventurer's guild outpost to the north.

Imagine, her fighting a dragon. Her dad would shit.

So would her knight, who had picked a choice moment to enter the conversation.

"Oh, Kallie, listen to this! Jessamine was- This is Jessamine, by the way- She was just telling me that I look like the Princess!" She said, infinitely amused by her deception. "I've never seen the Princess, have you?"

"Once or twice." Kallixenia said, not remotely as amused.

"So you see it, she does, doesn't she? Except I think," Jessamine said, sidling up to her. "That she looks even more beautiful."

("Jess, I don't know if that's a good idea-")

"Wooooow, reaaaally?" Lunaeris said, beaming at Kallixenia. "Do you think so, Kallie?"

"I couldn't say." Her knight said tersely.

"Well I can, I'm sure you're prettier. Better ass, too."

("Jessamine you are pissing off the giant angel and I'm out of mana.")

("Hang on, I want to see which one of them punches her.")

"How about that, have any preference between the Princess' ass and mine?"

"Truly, I do not." Kallixenia seethed.

"No opinion at all?" The Princess asked, pouting.

"In my opinion-"

("Jess-")

"I'm asking for her opinion, not yours." Lunaeris said flatly, eyes remaining locked on Kallixenia.

("Holy shit.")

("Brutal.")

Kallixenia didn't say anything, but did exhale through her nose and smile a little. Almost imperceptibly, but enough for Lunaeris to know that she fucking had her, Kallie couldn't stand seeing someone else flirting with her.

"If you're forcing me to choose-"

"I am." Lunaeris said smugly.

"Then yes, you're more beautiful than the Princess, my lady."

"And I have a better ass."

Kallixenia rolled her eyes.

"Yes, that too. Happy?"

"Quite. Shall we get going?"

("Jessamine what the fuck did you stick yourself in the middle of?")

("This is so much funnier than if one of them had punched you, she completely forgot you exist dude.")

And so the two of them said their goodbyes and left.

~

"You were so mad!"

"I wasn't, my lady."

"You were!" Lunaeris argued, gleefully. "You were jealous!"

"I simply think," The paladin said, choosing her words carefully. "That you could do better. That's all. Jealousy would imply that I felt some kind of… possessiveness."

"Oh, and you don't, of course, because that would be improper." The Princess said, nodding along with an expression of mocking solemnity.

"That is correct, my lady. I'm glad you understand." Kallixenia said, knowing full well that she wouldn't leave it at that.

"Oh I understand. I understand that you want me sooooo bad."

"My wants are irrelevant. I have a duty to uphold."

Lunaeris groaned loudly.

"If I never hear anyone talk about duty again, it'll be too soon." She whined. "I don't know how you can just accept it like that."

"You make it remarkably difficult, my lady."

"I try!" She said proudly, before registering what her knight had just said to her. "Wait- I do?"

"Where are we going, my lady?" Her paladin deflected.

No! Answer, damn you!!!

She seethed at Kallixenia in silence, watching her ride along, expressionless save for a tiny smile she was trying hard to stifle. The nerve of her, to say things like that and then not acknowledge them. To tease her. Stupid idiot bastard oafish-

"We-" She said icily. Don't want to react? Fine. React to this. "-are going to clear out some bandits holed up in an old fort to the west."

"Princess."

"What?" She said, smiling coyly. "We're helping the townsfolk. I thought paladins loved that."

"Oh it's very noble, assuming you aren't just doing it to give me a heart attack." The knight said, side-eying her suspiciously.

"It's a pleasant side effect, but no." The Princess said. "We had fun fighting bandits! I want to do it again, I have some new spells to try."

The paladin closed her eyes and exhaled, then nodded slowly.

"Alright, if it's something you actually want to do."

"What, really? I thought for sure I'd have to fight you on this, that your duty to keep me safe would forbid it."

"If I can't keep you safe in a fight that we're starting, we have bigger problems than dreams of adventuring." She said. "Besides, I'm sworn to protect you, not keep you from having fun, regardless of what you may think."

Okay, maybe she was teasing her a little too much.

"I don't- I don't think your job is to keep me from having fun." She said. "You've shown yourself more than willing to let me do as I please. I just want you to be having fun too!"

"I am having fun. Just… while also adhering to my training. People are trying to kill you, my lady, it's not really the time to be figuring out what's required to maintain the favour of the gods and what's posturing."

"Ugh, the prophecy. I'm still working on getting out of that."

"I don't doubt it."

"Hang on." The Princess gestured ahead of them. "The fort is just ahead, we should leave the horses and proceed on foot, they'll spot us on the road."

The two skulked through the underbrush along the road until they could see their target. The fort was in a state of complete disrepair, missing almost the entirety of one of the walls. A single lookout stood in a dilapidated tower, and the rest were presumably asleep, having set up camp in the courtyard.

"Alright Princess, what's the plan?"

Plan?

"Um. Well… neither of us is very sneaky, so… go on my signal?"

The knight gave her a concerned look.

"Perhaps, my lady, you can attack from here with your spells and I'll intercept them as they approach?"

"Yes, right, of course." She said, nodding.

"On your signal, then."

"Right. Okay."

Group of targets, flammable tents, it wasn't hard for her to decide what to do.

Pyromancy was looked upon unfavourably by a lot of wizards. It was a school built on being emotional in a field that prided itself on rigorous study and adherence to proper form and theory.

Needless to say, Lunaeris was a fan. It was therapeutic, taking your problems and blowing them up.

The spell she wanted to try was a sort of modified fireball; rather than launching a ball of flaming mana, she would concentrate the mana at the target and blow it up.

Simple. Probably.

As she understood it, you just tap into the leylines, get frustrated, put that frustration over there, and let it go.

She had a lot of things to be frustrated about. She was mad about the prophecy, mad about ~duty~, mad about the gods-

Mad at Kallie, for not being as willing as her to fight against those things.

Mad at herself, because that wasn't fair to Kallie and she knew it.

All these things ate at her, they festered and bubbled and boiled, and she took that, she focused it and pushed it away from her and into her enemies.

She felt angry, and frustrated, and hot. Tears gathered in her eyes and quickly turned to steam.

She didn't like being like this. Everything was so fucking difficult. Kallie was right, if she wasn't the Princess she'd be so much happier. It wasn't Kallie's fault they couldn't be together, it was hers.

The bandit camp was ablaze in an instant, a blinding flash incinerating the center of the courtyard entirely and setting the rest alight. Lunaeris choked, coughing smoke and flame uncontrollably. She had overestimated her abilities, hadn't let go properly, burning mana shot back through the leyline and into her.

"Princess!" Her knight cried, unsure of how to help.

She waved her off. The backblast wouldn't actually harm her, it would just sting like hell. What would harm her were the remaining brigands, spilling out of their burning tents and quickly spotting the two of them on account of the fact that she was still coughing up fire, dammit, why was she like this?

Her knight moved to engage in melee, while she doubled over and tried to force the seemingly endless torrent of acrid smoke from her lungs.

She had to do something, had to get the fire out.

Kallixenia wouldn't be able to hit the lookout. She focused her bleary eyes on the tower and flung bolts of flame in the general direction of it. Firebolts were easy, you just take the burning mana (currently in abundant supply), put it in your hand, and throw.

One of them must have hit, because by the time she could breathe clearly again the tower was collapsing into a burning heap. She collapsed to the ground herself, exhausted and sore and having emptied most of her mana reserves.

"They're fleeing. Princess, are you alright?"

"No." She croaked, small and vulnerable.

She was unharmed, but felt like shit. For almost two months now, she had been blaming Kallixenia for- for what, doing her job properly? For not wanting to throw away the gods' favour? It wasn't her fault that Lunaeris was a prize to be won. Why should she want to get involved, fall in love just to watch some hero with a glowing sword take her away against both of their wills? It wasn't fair to her. She was doing the exact shit she hated having done to her, trying to force Kallixenia to be what she wanted.

The knight carried her to her steed and helped her onto it, climbing up behind her and holding her so she wouldn't fall. She couldn't even enjoy it, this time. She withdrew into her sorrow, arms held so tightly to her chest that she might collapse into nothingness, a black hole of idiocy in the shape of an elf.

They rode back in silence. Lunaeris let her knight lift her off the back of her horse and guide her back to their room at the inn, completely lost in her own thoughts. She slumped into the bed, pulling blankets over herself to hide from the world.

Kallixenia must have found her so annoying, constantly whining about the injustice of having to do what others expected of her and then turning around and trying to mold her into her dashing love interest who would take her away from it all. Why was she so pushy? Kallixenia was perfectly happy to adhere to her code. She should just leave it alone.

"…What would you like to do tomorrow, Princess?" Her knight asked.

"I don't know. Go back to the castle, I guess."

"But… you hate being stuck in the castle."

"…Yeah."

She felt her sit on the other side of the bed.

"You know, Princess, we still have to share a bed. Perhaps I'll grab hold of you in my sleep and get embarrassed again? Wouldn't that be funny?"

"...I can sleep on the floor."

"That- That won't be necessary."

Her weight shifted slightly, and then returned to how it was, as if the knight had reached out to touch her and then thought better of it.

"Have I done something to upset you?" The half-giant asked softly.

"No. You're perfect. I just…" Lunaeris answered, voice shaky. "A princess shouldn't treat you the way I do."

She felt Kallixenia get up from the bed, presumably to leave and get her own room.

That was the core of it, wasn't it? A princess shouldn't act how she does, it made things harder for everyone. She was- She was being selfish. Childish. She should simply bear it, not-

Kallixenia pulled the blanket from over her, leaning in close as she knelt beside the bed.

"Why should we care how a princess should act, Lunaeris?" She asked.

Lunaeris nearly yelped in surprise at the low hum of her knights voice, at her sudden closeness when she was sure she had driven her away this time.

"K-Kallie?"

Her train of thought was completely derailed. This didn't make any sense, why now?

She called her by name, no title even, that- she had never gotten her to do that!

"I'm sure the Princess has her share of burdens, back at the castle, and I'm sure that her knight would gladly help carry them." The paladin said, tucking a strand of white hair behind Lunaeris' ear. "But we're just two adventurers, spending the night together."

Lunaeris' head was spinning from the sudden shift, she could scarcely believe it was real, she-

She really didn't think this was where the night was going.

Well, not recently anyway. It had been the whole idea, initially.

"W-Why now? You- We-" Her brow furrowed as she sputtered. "You said this was unwise! The gods!"

"The gods will just have to understand that I cannot bear to see my beloved cry."

The Princess went pink. Her beloved?

"But… But I'm annoying. Brash. Impulsive. I-I don't-"

"You are not annoying-"

"I am! I keep pestering you-"

"You aren't." Kallixenia said, placing a finger to Lunaeris' lips to quiet her. "It bothered me when you tried to run away without me, and I'll admit I was a little mad when you tried to make me jealous, but your attempts to make me shirk my duties are more amusing than anything. You do not annoy me, Lunaeris."

"…And the other things?"

"Your brashness and impulsiveness are what make you interesting. I like seeing the real you, I've told you before." She wiped a tear from the Princess' eye and cupped her cheek. "I cannot tell you what to do, I don't think anyone can, but please don't think that I dislike you. I don't."

"Oh. Okay." Lunaeris said, stunned by this turn of events. The two stared into each others eyes for a long moment, her blush growing deeper by the second as they did.

She swallowed hard.

"So, um, what shall we do now?" She asked, heart pounding out of her chest.

"I… don't rightly know, Princess. Whatever we want, I suppose."

Lunaeris shook her head. "N-Not the Princess. Not right now."

"You'll always be my princess, Lunaeris." The knight said, gently taking her hand and kissing it.

"I-I- You-" The Princess stammered, covering her red face with her other hand. "…Get off the floor, you beautiful oaf. Honestly, of all the things to say to me!"

Kallixenia chuckled softly and got onto the bed, sitting down and letting Lunaeris gingerly climb atop her.

"N-Now, kiss me." The Princess ordered.

"Anything for my princess."

"T-That's not a clever pet name! I- Mmf!" Her eyes fluttered shut as she was drawn into a kiss, the firmness of her knight's lips against hers completely overwriting anything else she wanted to say. She cupped the side of Kallixenia's face with one hand and hooked the other behind her neck, pulling her in deeper. She felt her knight's hands slip under the hem of her dress, sliding across her thighs, caressing her hips in a way that made her hungry for more.

She was lightheaded, only breaking away for the briefest of shallow breaths before crashing back into the kiss. Anything else would be unthinkable. Any lull could shatter the fantasy, allow reality to slip back in, allow the two of them to be held apart by forces neither of them could control.

But she could control this. She was in charge, and she was going to make the most of it. She bit her knight's bottom lip gently as she pulled away for another breath, and her knight made a delicious noise as she tried to follow her to keep from breaking the kiss. "Down, girl." the Princess said, giggling, and she pushed the larger girl flat on the bed before diving after her and nibbling at her neck.

Kallixenia's restraint was slowly evaporating, she groped a handful of the Princess' plump ass with one hand while the other hooked a finger into the band of her undergarment. She stilled, awaiting Lunaeris' approval, but the Princess simply made an annoyed noise and reached down to help her along. Kallie began to gently slide the Princess' underwear down her legs before Lunaeris abruptly yanked them down from one side, leaving them skewed just above her knees.

"Princess, get up so I can-"

"Leave them," Lunaeris said, her breath hot against the knight's neck. "Touch me, now."

"Of course, princess."

She traced her fingers up along the inside of her thigh and slid one along the Princess' slit, coating the long, thick digit in her juices. The Princess was soaked, and drew a sharp breath at her knight's touch. Her desperation was palpable as she bucked her hips into her hand, months of pining leaving her with a short fuse that she was eager to burn through. Kallixenia kept her composure and just slowly stroked the Princess, her fingers gliding along her wet lips with little resistance. She lightly brushed her thumb against Lunaeris' clit, sending a shiver through her entire body.

"M-More," Lunaeris whined, "don't tease."

She hesitated.

"Are you sure, princess?" She asked, and the Princess grumbled and withdrew from her knight's neck to meet her face to face. The knight was looking at her, her doe-eyed expression a mixture of worry and adoration, and she dipped in for a kiss before raising up on her knees and gathering her dress above her hips.

"Look," She hissed, "At what you've done to me." Her pussy was completely exposed, still leaking wetness onto Kallixenia's motionless hand. "Yes I'm sure! This is the whole reason I ran off in the first place! Stop treating me like your charge and fuck me already!"

"Anything for you, my princess."

She withdrew her hands ("The opposite of what I asked-", whined the Princess,) and propped herself up on her arms, adjusting her position to sit with her back against the wall at the head of the bed. Lunaeris followed, and braced her hands against Kallixenia's shoulders as the knight pulled her in by her hips. Her hands glided across the soft skin of the Princess' stomach and quickly found their way to the stiff bud of her clit, drawing circles around it and making her shudder. She slid two fingers through her slit, getting them slick, but still didn't penetrate her.

"I'm not going to beg, if that's what you're waiting for." The Princess huffed.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

She sank a finger into Lunaeris' pussy, and the Princess dug her nails into her shoulders, leaving deep crimson marks. Lunaeris stiffened and squeezed her eyes shut as sparks raced through her. A strained "Fffuck." escaped her lips as the second knuckle of the digit slipped into her hole, her walls clenching around it. She whined as it was slowly withdrawn, leaving her painfully empty before it swiftly sank back in. She ground into her knight's palm as she pumped her finger in and out, chasing more of the pleasure building within her.

"Your hands are so big…" She sighed, and the knight slowed.

"Is it too much?"

"Gods no, give me two."

Kallixenia obliged, and the Princess saw stars. She let out a long groan as the second thick finger stretched her, and her knight quickly found a rhythm that had her heart racing. Her breath came in ragged gasps as each thrust sent jolts of pleasure through her entire body, sending her barreling towards her peak. Her body tensed in anticipation and her hips jerked, and her knight kept up her onslaught through it all. The pressure built to a white-hot point, and after several moments of agonizing strain Lunaeris found herself teetering on an edge that she couldn't cross. She whined as she struggled to let go, all the muscles in her body pulled taut and unable to be relaxed.

"Tell me what you need, Princess."

She had done this to herself, a life of building walls around her heart had left her unable to give it willingly. She knew that it was only a fantasy, that they would return to their roles and she would be married off to another. Her body ached for release but her heart was so afraid to be hurt. Afraid that letting someone in would only make the loneliness more impossibly suffocating in their absence.

"I don't know, I can't-" She whimpered, tears welling in her eyes. Her knight said nothing, but she heard the soft fwump of her wings unfurling and suddenly found herself wrapped in their downy embrace. It was like being bundled in a blanket, warm and cushy and above all safe. She knew that if the world came crashing down around the two of them right then that her knight would make sure she emerged unscathed from the ruins. Her breathing slowed, and the aching inside her didn't feel quite as painful.

"I've got you, my princess." Kallixenia said. "I won't let anyone take you from me."

"You don't mean that." The Princess whined, inching closer to her peak as cracks formed in her guard.

"I do."

"It's no- hhaah- not up to us, we're just pretending-"

"We'll run away for good. Together." The knight said, and the Princess clenched around her fingers as the walls protecting her heart crumbled.

"S-Swear it," Lunaeris cried, *"promiiiise!"* There was nothing holding her back now, and her body would careen over the edge regardless of her knight's answer, but she wanted so desperately to hear it.

"I swear to you Lunaeris, we'll make a life together where you can be happy."

Lunaeris tried to say "I love you", but instead squealed incoherently as she flooded her knight's palm with girlcum. She brought her sweat-drenched brow to her knight's forehead as she jerked and shuddered, waves of pleasure ripping through her as all the pent-up pressure released, overwhelming her completely.

She sank into Kallixenia as exhaustion overtook her, her limbs going slack as she rode out the last twitches of her orgasm. Her mind was swimming in bliss, and she began to giggle deliriously as her knight peppered her face with kisses. The angel withdrew her fingers and scooped her up, placing her down on her side and settling in to spoon with her. The Princess felt her knight continue to gently kiss her head, face buried in her long hair, and she smiled softly as sleep took her.

"…love you…" She mumbled.

"I love you too, my princess."

~

"I cannot believe this! Sneaking out, gallivanting around the kingdom, when you know the Demon King seeks to kill you!"

"I'm terribly sorry, father." Lunaeris said, eyes downcast. "You see, we thought we had a lead on the hero."

"…Oh?"

"Yes, but it was a dud. We found a knight with a mace that shone like the sun, but no blade."

"Ah. Well. Perhaps next time." The king paused. "Wait- Not next time! You shouldn't be going out looking on your own!"

"I wasn't on my own, my knight accompanied me. She made sure to keep me safe."

"Yes, I'd like to speak with your knight. Alone."

Lunaeris glanced at Kallixenia, who was sweating bullets. There wasn't much she could do to help her until she knew what exactly was wrong. She slowly left the throne room, giving the knight a tiny thumbs up as she closed the door.

~

Kallixenia was screwed she was so screwed she had sex with the Princess and she knew she wasn't supposed to and the king found out somehow and she was going to get put in the dungeon and killed and then the gods were going to send her to hell.

The king cleared his throat as Lunaeris closed the door behind her, the thumbs up she gave a small comfort to her knight's fraught nerves.

He walked up to Kallixenia and clasped his hand on her shoulder. "You're doing good work, honourable paladin." He said. "A shining example of your order."

Oh.

Maybe he didn't know.

"T-Thank you, your majesty. It means the world to me to hear that."

"I know my daughter can be… willful, sometimes. You've done a remarkable job keeping up with her. I shudder to think what may have happened, had you not been with her on this little outing."

"Yes, what providence that I realized she was gone so quickly."

"Yes, well, I won't keep you. I'm sure she has some other scheme already cooking." The King said, stroking his beard. "She thinks I don't know about her little rebellious streak, but I'm not so easily fooled. You have to get up preeeeetty early to pull one over on the King, you know! You keep a close eye on her."

Kallixenia nodded slowly.

"Of course, your majesty."

[nikeiyomiurioverthinker]

Hey i just saw your reblog to my post about void and I'd love to hear your theories/headcanons on what Nikei's backstory is like

Hey!! Thanks for the ask, I like to yap a lot and this is fantastic to scratch that itch.

I do have a bunch of theories about his backstory, but I wouldn't say I have exactly a MAIN one? Also because a lot of the theories are technically just the same theory with a few slight tweaks. I don't want to settle on one only because I don't wanna be disappointed once Linuj drops the backstory and it isn't like how I imagined it.

There isn't much in the game itself that tells us about what Nikei's backstory could be like, but we have three things you always have to consider when creating a backstory for this guy:

Nikei's family is absent by the time Utsuro saves him and he cannot reconnect to them in any way

You have to think up why exactly Nikei is so obsessed with his right hand

The picture Linuj drew 4 years ago has to fit seamlessly in it

It has to explain his fixation on power and control

So, having stated that, here's the details that I match together fairly arbitrarily when I'm thinking about Nikei's backstory:

As far as his family is concerned, he most likely lost them before Utsuro even came into the picture- he does talk about them exactly once, and it is in this specific comment:

I know it says household and not family, but I checked the Hangul and from what I've found online, the term he uses is often used in the context of expressing the social position of one's family- so, he is likely talking about his own parents here. It's a fleeting comment, not the type I would imagine one would make when talking about abusive parents- so since his family likely has nothing to do with his trauma (or at least, isn't the direct source of it), they definitely disappeared before it all started.

Personally, I believe that Nikei was probably kidnapped- either that, or he was sold off. It depends on how nice I want Nikei's parents to be. In the kidnapping case, it could happen in any context, really- on the way home from school, or even inside his own home. His family most likely died during that encounter, and Nikei was then whisked away by his future abuser. In the case of him being sold off... well, Nikei states that his family wasn't wealthy- it isn't a stretch to say that maybe they were struggling financially, made a risky contract with loansharks that clearly didn't pay off, and therefore they had to either give Nikei away to their creditors, or they just sold him off for money so they could pay the debt back. What's important here is to establish that Nikei physically cannot (or in the second case, simply wouldn't want to) go back to his family.

Either way, it ends with Nikei being taken away from his family and forced into a life of servitude by his abuser(s). Most likely, Nikei had to deal with CSA- I don't want to get into that conversation, but there are two main reasons as to why I believe that to be the case. First, Nikei fits the profile of a victim, and is shown getting stressed and fearful when someone physically threatens him- like in the case of Mikado in chapter 4, in that one CG. Also, and this reason has less to do with the story itself and more with the writing of it all- Linuj is clearly giving each Void a different type of trauma, and it wouldn't make much sense for Nikei to be 'only' physically assaulted by his abuser, since that is already a subject explored in Emma's backstory. This then would explain his need for control- it's more out of fear of being forced into that situation again than anything else.

Skipping to the meeting with Utsuro now- I like to explain away Nikei's obsession with his hand as him touching Utsuro with it, and thus believing that his hand was blessed and is the reason why everything starts to look up for him. We are never explained how or to what extent each Void meets him, so it isn't unlikely to think that they were close enough to touch. Either that, or after the meeting with Utsuro, Nikei gathered up enough courage to actually stand for himself and attack his abuser- likely killing him and therefore causing the hand obsession. It might also just be a mix of both? Either way, Nikei gets out of this terrible situation, and he then doesn't live happily ever after because even after meeting Utsuro his life objectively sucks, just slightly less than it did before.

This is the most sensible of the theories I have? Nothing groundbreaking, I know.

Allow me now to introduce you to the Nikei Grew Up In A Cult theory. This one is significantly less strong that the ones above but hey, I'm just having fun here.

So, in this theory, Nikei's family is fully entrenched in a cult- Nikei probably was born into it. The details of the cult itself aren't really important, but I'm imagining something vaguely Christianity-inspired (on one hand because it's stupidly easy to just create a cult with Christianity as a basis, but also because of the very weird relationship Nikei seems to have with specifically Christianity- I could probably make a whole separate post on that). As in most cults, the leader is a wholeass fucking clown who definitely takes advantage of the kids in his group of yes men. Nikei definitely hated everything that was done to him, but no one would listen to him or they would actively scorn him for not accepting what their leader gave him- which also definitely counts for his parents.

Nikei grew to despise being submissive to others- due to the fact that he would always be taken advantage of if he wasn't the only in control. Which influenced his desire for power- when he met Utsuro, he touched the other boy with his right hand, and after the encounter was blessed with the luck to escape the cult.

Despite hating what was done to him, Nikei had grown up fully entrenched in the cult's dogma, so it wouldn't be insane to presume that he assumed the boy he met had been an angel or even a God, that had bestowed upon him luck as a way to pay him back for his suffering. Therefore, he starts seeing his right hand as something that was touched by God, causing his obsession with it.

Then again, I'm projecting a liiiittle of my religious trauma on him with this theory. It kinda was born out of my brain assuming the True? Or False? on his shirt referred to religious doctrine. Don't take it too seriously.

Anyway, that's all I got. Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk.