#To be fair; it doesn't look much like a tree due to how small it is

[astro-b-o-y-d]

I love putting small details into my art that I know no one's gonna notice or point out. That Y is supposed to be a tree, like how the i in the original The Birthday Massacre's logo is a birthday cake candle. You didn't know that, and wouldn't have asked anyway, but now you know.

[quirekey]

TFP autobots as Cats/kittens

[ headcanons ] + [ Lmao i had fun ]

[ includes: Optimus, Bumblebee, Bulkhead, Arcee, Ratchet, Smokescreen and Wheeljack ]

—•—•—

Optimus Prime:

Optimus would be a pretty large kitten. A vibrant blue, red and white coat with larger and tall ears. Pretty big and seemingly cute-serious eyes. Medium amount of fluff!

- Optimus probably meows a hella lot, yapping about some random stuff. He definitely sits on your lap and meows at you all day with those big ol’ eyes. You may be busy but then he spawns and just starts rambling about some sort of leadership stuff.

- He isn’t too affectionate when you're busy, but the second you start relaxing then he will just loaf on you. Your leg, chest or any available and empty spot on your body, it’s his favourite spot!

- He’s a very pristine and clean little boy, always licking to keep himself looking fancy schmancy! He will paw at you if you don’t clean yourself, pawing and leading you to the bathroom, it’s fair if you are offended.

- Honestly very agile and fast for a larger cat, but only running around outside. He doesn’t wanna make a mess. He loves to run around alongside you if you do exercises like jogging.

- He does get along with others, being a charming little cat that talks a lot definitely would charm any human but not too many cats, silly boy. He would want to get along with every cat and kitten.

—•—•—

Bumblebee:

Bumblebee is a furry little fella with folded ears. A yellow and black striped coat that is full of fluff! Puffy and long tail and black lil’ paws that are grippy and adorable. Smaller than the average cat also.

- He definitely chats a hella lot, no matter where and no matter what. You will hear him talking to your half-sleeping body, pawing at your face as he mewed at you.

- He may as well be a dog due to how attached and clingy they are compared to other cats. Bumblebee always is just clinging onto you with his claws on your pants, meowing until you stop and pet him, and he’s very persistent when he does it too.

- Has a habit of being clumsy. He would try to jump onto a counter and slam his face into it instead, crying after. He would slip off tables and accidently break glasses.

- He’s just a bit skittish, just a bit. He will see anything and either run at it with full force or jump and run off, it’s just a 50/50. He’s very random when it comes to being either skittish or aggressive.

- Loaf all day, no matter what. Loaf in cup, loaf on bed, loaf on couch! He would mostly wanna loaf on your lap, loud purrer too. He likes to just turn into a loaf in the most random spots too, it’s honestly strangely cute.

—•—•—

Ratchet:

Ratchet is a fuzzy cat, not a fluffy one. He doesn’t like the big coat type of look and prefers a simple one. Little ears that are always down like he’s grumpy 24/7. Medium sized body and tail. Red and white coat.

- Always is away watching some sort of interaction or thing. He is loafing at the window seal, watching birds. He’s sitting on the counter, watching you clean the dishes or just watching the trees move in the wind. He does get into things very easily.

- He isn’t too playful and is pretty sleepy. He’s an old cat that isn’t too active so he’s just laying around. He is just curled up in a ball in his bed all day and never will play with a toy.

- He will demand attention if he wants it and demand you to go away if he doesn’t. He sometimes gives mixed messages but you just pet him anyways because he’s cute.

- He hisses a hella lot, a little feisty boy. If you do anything that he doesn’t like, hissing. If you pet him too much, hissing. If you pet him too little, hissing.

- Ratchet seems like the type of kitty to not care too much about pats until you start actually petting him. He will show that he doesn't want any pets but once you start petting him then it’s game-over.

—•—•—

Bulkhead:

Bulkhead is a large and bulky looking cat. Fuzzy and furry. He’s a round fella with a round, mini tail. He has smaller feet and small ears that twitch a lot. Chonky kiki with a dark green coat.

- Absolutely grateful!! Give him any toy and he is forever grateful, playing with it every single day. Get him cat food and he will meow at you so much with a cute, big-eyed expression.

- Bulkhead is very affectionate. He’s always head-butting you for pats, pawing at you when you're just sitting around and nuzzling onto you whenever he wants. He always wanted to sit on your shoulder but he’s too bulky to :(.

- He loves to squish himself into things. He’d try his best to squish into a mug a lot, happy and unaware. He absolutely loves boxes that perfectly fit him and is like liquid when you hold him.

- He’s very very aggressive and messy. He may just start running around and dropping your items onto the floor, having fun while being messy. You sometimes call him a little wrecking ball but also yell at him a lot.

- He’s a little troublemaker, loving to make a mess to just tease you for fun. He will only not scratch up the couch and make a mess if you yell at him a lot, because he’s afraid of you when you're mad.

—•—•—

Arcee:

Arcee is a tiny kitten. She has light pink and tall ears that are filled with white fur. She has a half fuzzy and half fluffy coat that is coloured blue. She has big eyes that always look like she’s concentrating, diluted quite often.

- Arcee enjoys hiding in little and dark places. You’ll find her oftenly sneaking around and snuggling into smaller places. Under the draws or maybe just in a pile of clothes. She enjoys the small and dark places.

- Arcee loves being a squishy girl. When you pat her, she wants you to squish her and hug her in your hands, meowing for squishy hugs.

- She loves being a shoulder buddy. What I mean is that she wants to sit on your shoulder and adventure with you, everywhere! Observing what you see and being your little partner.

- She’s a fighter, she’s definitely a fighter. She will attack you and hiss and scratch if you yell at her or just make a sudden move that scares her. She always is on guard and will hiss at anything that somewhat frightens her. She may see someone that's playfully attacking you and start scratching them, though she’s a tiny little kitten.

- She actually doesn’t load too often, it’s a pretty rare occurrence. She’s normally just sitting down or curled in a ball, she just dislikes the loaf. There is only one place she’ll loaf at and that’s in your lap.

—•—•—

Smokescreen:

Smokescreen is a pretty medium sized cat, probably just the average one. He has more fuzz than fluff and a pretty long tail. He has pointy ears that point straight up. He has a pretty clean red, blue and white coating.

- Smokescreen is one childish kitten. He’ll do a lot of dumb stuff that even a dumb cat wouldn’t do. He would maybe attack a lamp because he looked at the bright part of it or just attack a foggy reflection of himself. Yes, he ran into glass before.

- He literally copies everything you do. Jumping on a trampoline? He will join you like a little goof. Talking way too much to him? He’ll do it back, meowing like crazy. He’ll do anything you do because he admires you and sees you as his parental figure, because you are.

- The boy sometimes gets too eager or rowdy and tries to parkour a lot. He would jump onto a counter and try to jump onto the fridge, failing miserably when he actually tries. He doesn’t cry but is definitely upset.

- Smokescreen is 24/7 curious about what you're doing. He will knead and paw at you when he sees you, waiting for you to tell him what you're doing. He’ll jump onto you and meow at you relentlessly until you get him involved too.

- LOVES chin scratches. His favourite part when you give him affection is when you itch his little chin. He will purr loudly when you do this, wanting to make it as obvious as possible to show you that he enjoys the scratches.

—•—•—

Wheeljack:

Wheeljack is one tall kitten. He has big ears that are very twitchy and animated. He’s pretty fluffy and has an even fluffier coat around his neck. He has a white coat with red and green streaks.

- Wheeljack is a rambunctious kitten. Always making a mess no matter what you do. He will shove glasses off, scratch up your couch and kill all of your plants. He does it for fun and is very active.

- Wheeljack loves being independent. He will always want to do things himself and lovingly fail. Sometimes you may try to grab something off the shelf for him but he just jumps up to the shelf and knocks it off himself. Usually it’s a toy so it won’t break (unless you get unlucky and he starts going into that little rampage of his again.)

- He is very aggressive when you start loving him. If you pat him too much, he will start biting and kicking you aggressively but not to the point where you’ll draw blood. He just likes to fight you playfully and it does sting but it’s adorable!

- The boy is a massive rebel when coming to house-rules. You yell at him and he will not listen at all. You may literally tell him the same thing over and over but he will pretend that you aren’t even there and just walk off.

- Surprisingly he’s really quiet and chill once he burns out of his rebellious moment, just cuddling with you and barely meowing at all. Sure he may just paw at your face but not often at all. He does purr really quietly.

[streamdotpng]

"Your Majesty?" Enid pushes the black door open, looking down at her superior. "You wanted to see me?"

"Yes," the Queen is facing the window. It's dark outside. "There is important news."

"Well," Enid wiggles the fluffy ears on her head, "I'm all ears!"

The Queen mutters something under her breath in a different language. She turns to face the taller.

"There was a symbol of threat on the outermost edges of our wall." She looks Enid in the eyes. "From the Barclay monarchy."

Enid sputters, "I thought we were allies?"

"We were, but we refused to comply with their wishes."

Enid feels her hands tighten.

"What wishes? I thought our alliance benefited everyone in it?" Her hand falls to rest on the hilt of her sword. It provides some comfort.

"It did. But they got into a... disagreement with the Ottingers, and I refused to yield to them. So, as it stands, I've made enemies of them."

"Okay. With all due respect, your Majesty, I fall to see why this required me of all people? Shouldn't this be between you and your advisors? Or the head of the Royal Guard?" Enid tilts her head.

"I have spoken with them already. And they all said the same: I need someone to aid in watching me."

"But you're plenty strong and capable on your own?"

"Yes," the Queen nods, "that was as I said as well. But, they had a fair point." She walks over to Enid. She's so much smaller, Enid almost has to look straight down. It stretches her neck. She can't imagine how bad the Royal's neck must hurt.

"I need more protection, especially considering that Barclay is one of the bigger powers. So, you are hereby to guard me at all times."

"Oh—kayyyyy?" Enid watches her walk to her desk, taking out a quill and ink. "Why me, though? I'm hardly the best. I'm pretty sure the captain of the Royal Guard is better suited."

"Are you questioning me, Sinclair?" She raises an eyebrow. She puts writing utensils in her bag.

"No Ma'am!" The knight yelps. "Just— uh. Worried..." she clenches her fists and bites her lip, looking at the ground. "That you might've made. The. Wrong. Choice? Sorry?" She offers.

"Ha." Is the dull sound she gets. The Queen walks past Enid, right to her door. "Come. You are to guard me at all times." Enid squawks, almost falling with how fast she turns.

"Yes your Majesty!"

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

It's surprisingly fun to follow the Queen around on her duties. Hah.

Duties.

She's much busier than Enid first thought. She knew the royal woman had things to do, but she always thought it was maybe three things and then she just sat in her room all day.

Turns out, she does stuff all. Day.

Enid doesn't want to sound bratty, but she's bored. She's stuck next to her Queen, listening to old people complain about old things.

Trees apparently need to be cut because of rain and rocks or something, there's some kind of small riot forming because of no honey being sold. There's some old woman who somehow killed a trained guard by scaring him. They aren't sure if she should be charged or not.

Enid wonders when this will end.

The Queen is nice to look at, at least. Enid consoles herself with looking at the fine silk and leather of her dress. She's pretty sure she actually knows the man that made it. Some farmer-semester who takes commissions. Enid should visit sometime.

She watches as the Queen tells off some idiot for suggesting something. She's not paying attention as to why.

She forces herself to look at everyone but the only person she wants to look at.

She wonders what's for dinner.

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

The Queen's room is fucking cold, all the time. She understands that she likes feeling like a corpse, but Enid is about to lose her fucking mind. The metal of her armor is just becoming ice with how cold it is.

But she needs to wear it to keep them both safe, and it's rude to be unarmored as a guard. So, she sucks it up and calmly sits in the corner while her Majesty writes letters. She writes a lot. Enid wonders what they could be about.

"Blah, blah, blah, everything sucks and I'm mad." She mutters under her breath. That's what she thinks the letters say. What she likes to imagine, anyway. It's more fun than just staring at the wall.

She jolts when a voice speaks.

"Are you alright?" The Queen is facing her now. Dark eyes making her stomach knot and twist.

"Huh?" She asks.

"You've been glaring a hole in the wall for some time." The Queen blinks.

The knight nods.

"Yeah. I'm okay."

The Royal stares at her with an intensity that has her skin feeling hot under her armor.

"If you're lying, confess now. I will not have deceivers guarding me."

They have a staring contest for a few clock-ticks.

Tock.

Tock.

Tock.

Tock.

"Okayyyyyyyyy," Enid drawls, embarrassed. "I may have lied." She lifts up pinched fingers. "Just a little."

The Queen raises an eyebrow when she doesn't elaborate.

"Speak the truth, then."

"Well." She shuffles foot-to-foot, caught and flustered. "It's cold and I am so bored." Her voice gets whiny and she suddenly has the urge to scratch her neck with her sword.

"Cold?"

"My armor is made of iron and I'm in a freezing cold room. I'm in an ice block." She tries to keep her tone respectful. She hopes she's done it well.

"And bored?"

"With all due respect, I need enrichment. I feel like a horse not being given its sugar cube." Enid mopes, her ears dropping.

"Ah." The Queen says, calmly. She turns and grabs a paper, holding it out. "Here."

"What?" The Queen holds the paper aloft. Enid cautiously walks over, expecting rebuke with each step. She gingerly takes the written-on paper. Their hands bush.

"Help me review my letters. Be my aide. And take your armor off if it's distressing you." Enid swallows her spit and nods.

"Uh... are you sure? I thought it was bad to be unarmored. Rude."

"When have I ever been one to obey social norms?"

Enid presses her lips into a line. "Fair enough." She slowly takes off her armor, careful to not be too loud or damage the fine-crafted plating.

"I'm not the best writer," she takes a paper. "I don't think I could help you."

"Your eyes are better than mine. You could see something that I couldn't." Enid looks at the paper. She hands it back, pointing at a spot near the middle.

"You missed three letters and a period." A pause. "Ma'am."

"This will benefit us both." She takes the paper back, fixing her mistakes. "Unless you will tire of aiding me?"

Enid sits on the floor, crossing her legs so her sword's sheath doesn't sit at an angle and pop out.

"I don't think I could." She takes a paper, reading all the loopy characters and fancy words. "You're fun to be around."

She's warm.

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

They're out on an excursion through some big-ass forest. Something about land markings and fruits. She didn't pay attention; she was focused on their hands touching while holding the horse reins.

("I am capable of controlling my own horses."

"I don't doubt you, your Majesty," Enid lifts her hands to placate, "but I don't think it's possible for you to take two separate reins and guide both horses smoothly. Ma'am."

The Queen scoffed. "Fine. The point you make has some sense. But you are the only allowed to aid me," she turned back to the wagon, climbing on, "should anyone attempt to remove you of your post, full permission to fight them."

Enid nodded. "Yes, your Majesty.")

The Queen's hand brushes hers every four gallops. Every 8 or so seconds. The cold of her skin against the warmth of Enid's is oddly soothing.

"We need to go left, there's a large amount of apple trees."

"Yes, your Majesty." She leans to the side to lead the horses correctly, and pushes their arms together.

"Sorry." She whispers, almost hoping the Royal doesn't notice.

"It's fine, Enid." The horses even out as they finish turning, almost falling off as they go up a hill. "You're just aiding me."

Her hands are so soft. Cold, too. So cold.

"Right," she agrees, ignoring how much she'd really love to take her Majesty's hand. "I am your aide!" She cheers.

"You're foremost my guard. You are only an aide because everyone else is too incompetent."

"You think I'm competent?" She asks. Her heart smacks her ribs.

"You're the least incompetent." She repeats.

In a rare bout of teasing, she grins softly.

"So I'm competent in comparison?" The Queen sighs, whipping her horse slightly.

"If it will make you quiet, yes. You're competent by comparison."

Enid smiles, tail wagging behind her.

She's warm.

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

It's night, and the Queen insisted that she needed to go out for crow feathers.

"They hold ink far better than that of a swan." She was told.

Truthfully, she thinks the Royal is dramatic and likes the birds. She doesn't voice her thoughts, though. She'd get left in the middle of the forest if she did.

Enid holds the lantern while the Queen pokes at a fat bird, making it shake and lose a few of its dark feathers.

She waits patiently for her Superior to fill her little wicker basket full of them. It's weirdly nice. They aren't talking, but she feels close. Personal. It's nice to just follow and listen to the final bird calls and animals founding homes for the night.

It's still freezing, though. Her armor is ice-cold against her warm skin, sapping her of body heat. The Queen kneels down, rubbing her hand against the ground, checking for more quills.

"Enid?" She asks quietly, barely above a whisper. The Werewolf jolts.

"Ah— yes, your Majesty?" Her hands are held in front of her, polite and ready to aid.

"Do you..." her hand stays on the ground, but she's no longer moving it. "Do you ever regret becoming a knight? Being involved in royalty?"

"Uh." Enid lets a hand rest on her sword. "I... can't really say I do, your Majesty. If I may ask, what brought these thoughts to you?" Enid keeps her voice low.

"Sometimes I worry if you aren't happy." She rips a rose out of the ground, "protecting me. Being a part of my business."

"I chose to be a knight, my Queen. I made the choice to be involved in everything."

"Do you think you'd be happier if you did other things? A gardener, an animal caretaker. A medic." She places the rose in her basket. She stands up, and faces the knight. "Would anything else make you happier?"

Enid takes a second to think.

She hates the feeling of dirt on her skin, under her nails.

She doesn't have the stomach to handle all the grossness that comes with animals, no matter how cute they are.

She couldn't handle failing someone and costing them their life.

"No, your Majesty." She shakes her head. "Nothing."

She's warm.

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

She's tired. She hasn't slept and she's been lying, because she needs to be good enough to keep the Queen safe.

Her armor is still sucking in the cold like a sponge, and it's making her sleepier.

It's the middle of the day; why can't the sun warm her at least a little bit?

"Stupid glowing asshole." She grumbles.

"What?" Comes sharply.

"Ah! Not you, you Majesty! The sun!" She explains quickly, waving an arm wildly to the window.

"The." The Queen turns to look at her from her chair. "Sun?"

"Yeah! It's—" now she's embarrassed. "It's cold and yet the sun is out! The big fuc— thing isn't warming me at all!"

The Royal just blinks at her, like she's stupid.

And looking at it: she's blaming the sun for not being hot enough to warm her indoors. Maybe she is.

Just a little.

"If you're cold, just strip."

"WHAT?!"

"Your armor!" The Queen adds, much too late to cool the blood rushing to Enid's face. "Take off your armor!"

"Oh..." Enid bites her lip. She's only wearing the standard tank top and thin pants— the armor is meant to keep her warm, but apparently, no one making the armor ever considered that maybe iron would intake cold and expel warmth.

She slides her sleeves off first, then the chest. The legs, then the armored boots.

It's still cold, but she doesn't want the Royal to get annoyed.

"You're shivering." Enid chokes.

"Uh... it's from... the... excitement of being a guard?" She says, voice rising in pitch.

The Queen stares at her.

"I'm freezing my tail off." She blunts. She wraps her arms around herself.

"Grab a blanket from my bed and get over here," a black-nailed finger points at her bed. "I need help proof-reading."

Enid slowly walks to the plush looking bed, grasping the first blanket she can. It's a raven colored one, thick and soft and oh-so-warm.

She wraps it around her shoulders and pads over to the Queen. She drops and sits cross-legged on the floor next to her chair, taking the paper she's handed.

She listens to the scratching of quill on paper, the quill being dipped into the inkwell. The Queen is a quick writer, she learns. But with that speed, she loses focus on her words and makes mistakes.

After a few hours, the sun goes down, and it's colder than before. The blanket does a good job on keeping her warm.

But is the Queen?

Enid looks up and she's shivering, ever so slightly. Her hands tremble from the frigid air. When Enid gets a letter, there's more mistakes and her writing isn't as neat.

She can hear the Royal's teeth chatter, short bursts of clicks. She pouts in thought.

'Could I convince her to put on a cloak?'

She stares at a tense jaw, shaking hands, and shivering frame.

Her Queen is cold, and it wouldn't befit her to leave the Royal cold and unable to do her job.

She takes the left side of the blanket and stands up, throwing it over her Queen.

It's big enough that she can sit down and still be completely covered, along with her Majesty.

Dark eyes bore into her. She grins.

"So you don't get too cold!" She says, looking back at her stack of papers. She sorts through them, and hands one to the Queen.

"You forgot to sign this one."

"Right." The hand that takes the paper from her is cold. "Thank you."

After a few beats, Enid feels a hand rub in between her ears, scratching at the base of her left one. Her tail smacks the ground.

She's warm.

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

Since then, things have been nicer. The Queen is less cold, snappy. She's not talkative; Enid is pretty sure was born with resting bitch face.

Since their little...

Moment.

She's been calling Enid an idiot less, which is nice. It feels like they're some weird form of friends now.

Buddies.

Enid learns how she takes her coffee, which is apparently some kind of state secret. She was sworn to not telling any other living creature that she likes black coffee.

She's weird.

Enid doesn't mind.

She writes her own letters, sometimes. Never anything too important; she wrote a letter to Yoko. That was fun.

But now she's got a new issue.

She is touch-starved like a bitch.

She already doesn't hug anyone because of the 'it's rude to be unarmored' bullshit, plus wearing the armor constantly, and the only real physical touch she gets is getting hit during training.

So, to have her ears scratched by someone she trusts?

She didn't realize how starved she was until she was given just a crumb of touch.

And she is needy. She is so, so needy.

She tries to ignore how nice it felt, but damn is she a weak-willed woman.

"Enid?" The voice knocks her out of her thoughts.

"Yes, your Majesty?"

"When was the last time you slept?" Enid laughs nervously.

"Whaaaaaaat?" She says, shaking. "I slept on... y'know," she waves a hand in gesture, trying her best to remember the current date and pull something out of her ass. "Friday?"

The Queen's eyes get wide.

"It's Thursday." She hisses.

"Uh..." Enid smiles unsurely, "I took a long nap yesterday?"

The Queen's black eyes stare at her, unimpressed.

She clears her throat. "Sorry."

"You are going to sleep until morning," Enid opens her mouth to convince otherwise, but the Royal makes an 'ah!" sound. "This is non-negotiable. You are sleeping for at least a few hours." She pauses.

"You are of no use protecting me if you're too tired to fight properly."

"I truly appreciate the concern, your Majesty, but I assure you," she flexes her arm subtly, "I am able to fight just as well as ever!"

"So, if someone threw a knife at you, you'd dodge it?"

"Without iss—" s slap cuts her off. She wasn't even aware the Royal could reach her face.

"You can't even avoid a slap to the face. You have no chance to evade a sword swing." Enid rubs her cheek, whining.

"Did you have to hit so hard?"

"Pain is the best teacher." She turns around and faces the bed.

"Take off your armor and get in." Enid stops the passive aggressive comment she feels in her mouth and quietly removes the metal.

It's only once she's once taking off her left armored boot does the truth stab through her sleep-deprived mind.

"We're sleeping in the same bed?"

"Yes." The Queen takes the edge of the warm blanket from the day before and lifts it, sliding under it. "If you are still going to protect me, as is your job, then you need to be in close proximity."

"Close..." she whispers to herself, shaking hands grabbing the side of the blanket. She slides under it, facing the Queen and watching her quietly.

She sleeps weird; arms crossed like a corpse and lying like a log. Enid busies herself

Suddenly, the Royal turns to face her.

"Why aren't you guarding me?"

"I— I am!" She defends.

"You aren't; anyone could strike me. Protect me." She says.

"I— how?" She can't really think of anything else. Maybe she needs to get her sword?

"Cover me." is all the Queen says.

Enid feels her face heat and her heart beat faster.

"What?" The Royal rolls her eyes and takes a hand to grab Enid's arm, draping it across herself.

"Cover me." Enid nods, moves closer.

"Okay." She moves herself more and more, expecting reprimand with her every wiggle.

She's fucking cuddling her Majesty and the Royal is saying nothing of it.

Her heart is slamming her ribs, but this is too nice to let up.

She tucks her chin on her Queen's head, pressing her side against Enid's chest.

The knight feels her muscles relax, going slack and loose.

The Queen is cold, shockingly so. Like a block of ice.

"I'll... keep ya'safe, y'r Majesty..." she says sleepily.

She's warm.

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

Enid wakes up to a body in her arms. She looks down to make sure everything is real, and the Queen has turned to her side and is snuggling back.

She carefully holds her tighter, trying to make sure she stays asleep. Enid would be executed if the Royal found out that she was being cuddled.

Enid holds her so close she can hear the other woman's heartbeat.

She's indulging herself, selfishly. Letting herself get a bit too close for a bit too long. Is it so wrong to want, though?

Ugh. She's been spending too much time with the librarian. She needs to punch a wall, or something. Maybe slam her head into a wall.

The Queen shifts, and all too suddenly Enid wonders if teleportation is possible.

"Why are you holding me?" Is the raspy whisper that questions her.

"You, uh... asked me to? To guard you, and you let me get closer 'till..." she looks at their bodies pushed together, canoodling. Platonically. "This."

The Royal blinks at her, sleepy and adorable threatening.

"Tell anyone of this," she points a finger at Enid's neck, "and I'll mount your head above my desk."

Enid mimes zipping her lips, twisting a key then throwing it away.

"Good." She hisses, snuggling back under the covers, pressing her face right into Enid's neck. "You will stay silent."

Enid has to force her jaw closed to stop herself from making a sound. Comedic timing is so good, but she'd prefer to keep her head stuck to the rest of her body, thank you very much.

She lets a hand rest on the other woman's head, the other falling to her lower back. Her hands leave the chilly skin warm under her palm and fingertips.

She shivers, because it's all so warm. Her skin is well heated and she feels so nice. It's been so long since she last had this kind of affection lathered on her.

She holds the shorter so close it feels like she's burning. She finds that it's surprisingly pleasant. She always imagined that burning would be painful.

She's warm.

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

Things feel so nice. Enid's being hugged again; a small thing, sure, but sometimes after a calm day, she'll get a tight, snug hug from the smaller lady. It's so nice.

She's been one cloud nine for the past two weeks.

"Your Majesty?" She asks.

"Yes, Enid?" The queen doesn't look up from her writing, hands flicking and looping her letters.

Enid opens her arms slightly, some part of her still worried of scorn.

"Hug?"

The queen keeps writing with her right hand, lifting her left arm up.

Enid quickly half-wraps herself around the woman, melting into the touch. It's nice.

"Do you need help writing? 'Cause, ya know, I'm your aide and all."

"Hm. I have nothing for you to aid me in. I was simply reviewing a list of corrections from my advisers." The small royal takes a paper and hands it to Enid, then a quill. "Draw a picture of whatever you wish, though."

Enid takes the paper and sits on the floor next to the queen, hunching over to place her paper on the floor.

She's by no means an artist, but she thinks the black rose she draws looks pretty good. The stem is bent and angular, the petals weird and messy, but she thinks it's nice, regardless.

She looks up and the other woman is done writing, staring down at her with this look in her eyes.

"Creeper," she says grinning, "watching me. Pervert."

"I am your superior, Enid." Her voice is about as sharp as Enid's fluff-covered ears. "You'd do well to not misspeak."

"I'm your favorite of anyone in the entire kingdom." She would never dare to have said any of this a couple of months ago, but it's comfortable now. She knows her limits. "You'd be so sad if I was gone."

"Who said you were my favorite in any regard?"

Enid feels her heart slide down in her chest, her ears drooping. She faces back to her drawing.

"Oh."

She picks her quill up, doodling a little wolf in the corner.

A boot taps her forearm.

"You understand that I was joking, yes?" Enid looks up.

"You were?" She asks, voice wobbly.

"Yes." Cold hands grab her face, thumbing under her eyes. She hadn't even notice the tears building. "You are my favorite in every regard."

"I am?" Maybe she's fishing, but it feels nice to know the royal woman likes her.

"Yes." She leans forward and presses a kiss to Enid's forehead, "my absolute favorite."

Enid nods when she pulls away, savoring the warmth's imprint on her skin.

"Do you want this?" She hands her drawing to the shorter. Small hands take the paper delicately, flipping it to observe it

"I will protect it with my life." She turns and sets it on the table, smoothing it out and gingerly folding it into a little square, then sliding it into her breast pocket.

"Well, I'm protecting you with my life, so I think ultimately I'm protecting it with my life."

"Perhaps," a hand brushes her bangs off her face. "But I would protect with my life."

"Protect what?"

"We must get going, Enid." She stands up and grabs her own sword, pointing at Enid's with her finger. "We have work in the city."

"Yes, Ma'am!" She stands up and immediately falls back down. "I stood up too fast!" She stands back up and doesn't fall this time, grabbing her sword off the queen's bed.

"Let's go!"

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

"We should get some sheep!" Enid declares. "For blankets!"

"No."

"Why?"

"Because," the woman faces away, slashing a vine with her sword, "I have you to keep me warm." She holds her arms open, waiting.

Enid squeals and scoops her up, pressing her against her chest.

"I'll keep you warm so long as you want me to!"

The smaller woman rests her head against a strong chest. Enid's voice vibrates her bones.

"Hm."

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

("Your Highness?"

"Yes, Eugene?"

"Permission to speak freely?"

"Granted."

"Why Enid? She was hardly the best choice, and our near-conflict with Barclay is over."

"Is it? Or is this all an elaborate ruse to poison me? Or you?"

"Your Majesty, I have seen how you look at her."

"I have no idea what you speak of."

"I won't say a word, just... be careful. Enid's not the best knight, but she's a good person. I'd hate to see her hurt."

"As would I.")

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

"We should get a blanket for us." Is all Enid says into the room while the queen writes. "That would be nice, I think."

The royal sits in her lap, her arms wrapped around her center.

"Hm. Maybe so, though I don't think that would work well." She gestures to herself, then Enid. "Our color palettes are extremely different. Pink and black would fit about as well as you and I." Enid pouts.

"I mean, I think we fit pretty well together." She rocks them slowly, subconsciously. "I think it'd be nice to have a together-blanket."

"I will look into it." She dips her quill in the inkwell. "For now, be quiet; I need to write."

Enid rests her head on the other woman's head, pouting despite the fact she can't see the knight.

"Spoil-sport." She kisses the smaller's head, mindless and uncaring.

They both stiffen, as if waiting for the other to react.

They don't react. No apologies, no sense of wrong.

Enid rests a hand on her thigh, the other on her belly.

They're warm.

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

"Okay," Xavier starts in the knights quarters, "I can't be the only one to see how lovey-dovey Enid and the Queen have been, right?" He jabs a finger at the two, chatting while the Royal draws on a map.

"I mean," Yoko tilts her head side to side, not quite seeing it. "Maybe? I think Enid is just easy to get close to really fast. I guess even Royalty isn't immune to Enid's charming looks and sweet words." She sips her blood.

"I think Enid is just really nice and the Queen likes that." Is Divina's only input.

"Well," Xavier throws his hands up in exasperation. "I'm going to spy on them." He begins walking.

Ajax grabs his shoulder and stops him.

"You're going to spy on the Queen? With her appointed knight, who, while not the best in all forms, is by far the strongest, while the Queen herself has her own sword and poisoned dagger?" Ajax asks, snake wriggling under his helmet. "That Queen?"

Xavier stops and glares at the gorgon, reluctantly going back to his seat.

"Well." His jaw tightens. "Shit. Damn."

He drops back in his seat, crossing his arms. "damnit."

"I don't see why you're so upset," Yoko flies her left ring finger nail down, blowing the dust off, "it's not like you had a chance."

"I— HOW. DAR—"

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

"So, I believe that if we grant ourselves a few hours to explore this area," a quill drags across the forest on the map, outlining it, "we could find the resources we need and more."

Everyone is silent, looking at the situation.

"Your Majesty..."

"Yes?"

The woman that spoke lifts a hand in gesture to the issue.

"Why?"

The Queen looks at where the hand points, referring to herself in Enid's lap, arms holding her.

"She is my guard. She needs to protect me at all times. And sh—"

"And I can do that better by holding her!"

The room gets suffocating, all the air leaving and abandoning them to die.

No one speaks over the Queen.

"What she said." Is her only response. "Now." She points at a lake on the map.

"Here, I know is a valley." She marks it. "I have hope for storage buildings so more houses can go in the main city."

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

Enid doodles a little raven on the other woman's paper, small and in the corner. It's not like anyone will see it, so she doesn't care.

She adds a little wolf next to it, nibbling it. She giggles. She thinks the queen would like it.

She turns to face her back.

She's writing, like always.

Enid likes looking at her. She's pretty. There's freckles on her nose and cheeks, Enid noticed she has a tiny scar along her jaw.

She could give a perfect description of her.

"Enid, you're staring."

"Sorry, your Majesty," Enid lets her eyes trace the woman's nape, the outline of her shoulders under her clothing, "you're very easy to focus on."

"I would hope so. I must command the attention of any room I enter."

"Well, you do so very well."

The queen hums in appreciation, scratching her quill along the paper.

"Enid?"

"Yeah?"

"Why do you still call me by my title? Surely we're close enough that you no longer feel it necessary."

"Oh..." she adds a snake, "I... never really thought about it, I guess. I always just thought of you as 'the Queen' in my mind, it never occurred to me to not call you that." She shapes a tree.

"...Do you know my name?"

"Yes!" She adds leaves.

"What is it?"

"Wednesday!" She fills in the trunk.

"Oh." She turns back to her paper. She's writing a letter of truce to Barclay. "I was hoping you wouldn't have known."

"Why?" She adds an apple.

"I would've teased you."

She gasps, and adds the apple's stem. "That's rude!"

"Hm. Would it ease my rudeness if I let you call me by my name?"

"Yes," she adds a storm cloud. "It would ease it greatly."

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

She holds Wednesday closer as they relax. Presses her nose into the smaller's nape, enjoying the black ink smell. There's an underlying sweetness. Like... vanilla. Enid sighs.

"Something is wrong?" Enid nuzzles her, breathing her in.

"Nope," she kisses the skin, "just sniffing you. Enjoying our lil' snug."

"Mm." She grunts, pressing back into her knight. "I enjoy our time." She says.

"I do too! You need to let me paint your nails!" She grabs her hand, looking at them.

"I'll enjoy a bright, sunny day before I allow you to put color on me."

"I mean..." she pulls Wednesday's fingers apart, inspecting them. "Who said I'd paint them any bright colors?" She folds the other woman's hand and kisses the back. "There's black nail polish in some markets in the citadel. Give me some funds..." Wednesday's face scrunches up, turning away from Enid.

"Absolutely not."

"You're smiling."

"Am not."

"Are too!" Enid kisses her shoulder. "That's why you faced away." She leans into the smaller's ear.

"You didn't want me to see it." She sing-songs. Wednesday pushes on her hand, half-heartedly shoving it off.

"I turned away because..." Enid can see her jaw tighten, looking for some snippy comment. "Shut up. That's why."

"Wow, so regal and elegant. Such queen-like behavior."

"I will kill you."

"You wouldn't kill the most competent person in your life, would you?"

"Who said you were any level of competent?"

Enid blinks, grinning.

"You did." She makes a quiet 'boop!' as she taps Wednesday's nose. "You silly goose."

"I am no avian. And I didn't say that."

"Well, not exactly that," she drags her nails down the smaller woman's back slowly. "But you said I was 'competent by comparison' so," she clicks her tongue, "y'know."

"..."

"Come to think of it, wouldn't that make you a deceiver?"

"If you tell no one," she turns to Enid, looking at her face, "I'd be very happy."

Enid leans forward, pecking Wednesday's lips.

"Let me paint your nails and I'll keep quiet."

"..."

"..."

"Fine."

"Yay!

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

"Y'know," Enid takes the hair-brush through dark curls gently, careful to not damage any of it. "I think you should let me style your hair."

"No."

"That's what you said about your nails!" She takes a section of hair, beginning to braid it. "And look at you now."

"You might have been right on my nails —also, you need to repaint them soon— but my hair is too noticeable to be changed without a reasonable explanation."

"Aw." Enid whines. She finishes off one braid, starting on the next.

"Couldn't the 'reasonable explanation' be that you love me?" She grabs a tie. "Could it be you don't love me?" She says, voice fake-dramatic.

Wednesday goes quiet as Enid begins the other braid, feeling the silkiness on her fingertips.

"Wednesday?" She makes a twist, "did I say the wrong thing?"

"I do love you." Her voice is stony. Hurt. "Did I fall to show you that?"

"No!" Enid walks in front of her, leaning down, "I know you love me. I was joking, Wednesday." She sees her shoulders loosen.

"Good." She sighs softly, "I was worried I didn't express it well enough."

"Any expression of love is enough from you, Honey." She walks back to behind Wednesday, actually starting on her hair this time.

"Is it?"

"Of course," she leans down and kisses her head, "because I know it means you trust me."

"Mm. Maybe I should fear for our relationship in front of you more often, if it means you call me Honey."

Enid drops the half-finished braid in her hand, yelping.

"What?! I didn't call you Honey!"

"But you did."

"Didn't! I called you... funny?"

"Sure you did, dear."

"Ah! See! You called me dear."

"I absolutely did, dear."

Enid drops the braid again, collapsing.

"Wednesday!"

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

"Okay, I'm starting to think Xavier was right for once." Ajax stares at the Queen, sitting in Enid's lap and facing her, talking together. "That does seem a lil' sweet and loving, dudn't?"

"I can see it." Divina nods, watching as her Majesty gets up and walks into a different room, Enid trailing her. "I still think the Queen is just happy to have someone be close to her without an ulterior motive. I'd be pretty buddy-buddy if I was her."

"Oh, so when Ajax says it, it's a good point, but when I say it I'm jealous?" Xavier glares at Divina, "bullshit."

"I wouldn't think Ajax is jealous of a lesbian couple," Yoko looks at Xavier like he's stupid, "considering, y'know." She lowers her glasses to look him in the eye.

"He's a homosexual himself." She drinks her blood. "Plus, they're holding each other, and they weren't doing that when you said it."

Xavier mumbles Yoko's words back to her in an annoying voice.

"Annoying-ass..." he grumbles.

"Nuh uh." Yoko sticks her tongue out childishly.

Xavier stands up and draws his sword, entirely intent on killing her.

"FUCK YOU MEAN 'NUH UH'?!"

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

Enid feels her hands shaking as she holds her roses.

She's about to ask the Queen on a date. Something that goes against royal law, and, if declined, could result in her being executed.

She waits for her Superior to get back, having been told to wait in the Royal's room. Something about Enid not being privy to information, and needing to wait.

She hates it. The black roses burn her hands and make her itchy feeling. She wonders if maybe she should leave. Run away. Change her name.

She giggles, nervously, imagining herself changing her name to Rose.

She doesn't think it would fit her. Maybe a color?

"Orange," she says to herself, laughing, "Imma name myself Orange."

"Don't ever change your name. It suits you far too much."

"AH!" Enid almost throws her flowers in surprise, yelping.

"Your Majesty! What are you doing— back so early?"

"The meeting ended sooner than expected, so I thought I would come back." She turns to her chair, pulling it out and sitting down. "Though, I would've stayed the extra time if I didn't hear you saying you would name yourself Orange."

Enid tightens her hold on the roses, licking her lips.

"Uh." She shakes the flowers, catching the Royal's attention. "Rose."

They both blink at each other, like deer staring at an actively flying arrow.

"Rose." She nods. Enid feels like death would be so nice. "Why?"

"Flower." Enid can feel tears in the corners of her eyes, but she keeps smiling because if she doesn't, she will break down. "Red."

"Are you alright?" The Queen reaches and presses a cold hand to her forehead. "You don't feel hot..."

"You." Enid's teeth press so hard it hurts. "Flowers."

"Do you need a moment?" Enid nods and swallows, turning away from her.

She takes exactly three deep breaths, then turns back.

"Flowers." She's shaking. "For you."

"Oh." The Royal takes them from Enid's hand, clutching them softly. "Thank you. I'll need to get water." She turns to place them in the pot that she doesn't own.

"And a pot."

"Date."

The smaller woman turns back. "Pardon?"

"Flowers. For date." She forces out. "Me?"

Her Superior stares at her for a long, long few seconds. Enid considers jumping out of the window.

"You... wish to romantically court me?"

"Yes." Enid whimpers like a hurt animal. "I want that."

"Then I agree." Wednesday stares at her, thoroughly unimpressed. "Is it that hard to simply ask me out? I thought you'd be braver than that."

"You scared me and you're so pretty, and I was worried I'd be executed in the town square—"

Wednesday lifts a hand, stopping Enid before she gets going.

"Why on Earth would you be executed?"

"'Cause... that's what happens to people who ask out royals and get rejected, ain't it?"

"No? Who told you this?"

Enid looks at her feet, weighing the pros and cons.

"Xavier..." she mumbles.

"Ugh." Wednesday groans, "remind me to kill him."

"What?! No!"

"I think he deserves it."

"But he's my friends' friend. They'd be sad. So, I'd be sad."

The smaller woman sighs, and hugs Enid close.

"Fine."

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

Enid takes her to a cliff, overlooking a gorgeous little patch of forest, a large lake in the center.

Wednesday has her head in Enid's lap, enjoying the werewolf's hand stroking her unbraided hair.

"This is... perfect, Enid." Wednesday presses up into the hand rubbing her hair.

"I'm glad!" Enid leans down and kisses the top of her head. "I stole a map to find this place!"

Wednesday laughs, a from-the-chest sound. Enid feels herself fall deeper in love.

"You—" a giggle "—you shouldn't tell the Queen Herself of your crime, Enid."

The knight leans down, covering Wednesday from the sun.

"Oh, but the queen won't turn me in for my crimes."

Wednesday pushes up.

"Oh, but she would. She took an oath to never allow crime."

Enid hunches further until their lips are almost touching.

"Oh, but I think the queen loves me too much."

Wednesday glares, the effect ruined by her smiling.

"I can't argue there." She presses their lips together.

She drags her nails lightly across Wednesday's scalp, grinning when the other woman groans softly.

"You like it when I scratch your head?"

"Yes." She pushes into Enid's nails, melting. "Very much."

"Aw. You're just a lil' black cat, aren't you?" Enid starts scratching her jaw, cooing. "Just a lil' guy, can't hurt no one. Pretty girl."

"I'm not an animal, mutt."

"D'aw, does Kitty got claws? Huh?" Enid scratches down her chest. "Lil' baby. Dumby."

"I am not an infant, nor unintelligent, Sinclair." She pouts and flips on her side, ignoring Enid.

Enid pokes her cheek with a finger, giggling at the jutting-out lips.

"You're pouting." She sings, teasingly. "You don't like being called a kitten? Huh? Lil' baby."

"I am no infant, Enid." She glares at the finger poking her. "And if you don't stop poking me, I'll bite your finger."

"Go ahead, it won't hurt." She places her finger right to Wednesday's mouth.

"It will if I bite it off." Enid pulls her finger back just as Wednesday chomps. She can hear the other woman's teeth click.

"Wednesday!" She puts her hand on her chest, fake-hurt. "How could you? After everything we've been through?!" She wipes a finger under her eye.

Her finger is completely dry.

"What have we been through, though?" Wednesday rolls back. "Nothing dangerous has happened."

"This whole me-guarding-you thing happened because of a threat." Enid pushes the smaller woman's hair being her ear, admiring her jaw. "You never told me what happened. Are we still in a near-war with the Barclay kingdom?"

Wednesday's eyes get huge and remind Enid even more of a black cat. She rolls onto her side.

"Wednesday?"

Wednesday starts to fake snoring; a loud, nasally noise.

"Wednesday!" Enid shakes her shoulder, giggling at her silliness. "What happened?" She gasps falsely, and covers her mouth. "Did Bianca die?"

"No."

"Then what happened?"

"...our conflict ended almost immediately."

"Wha?"

"I received a letter of temporary truce after we got back from finding the apple trees."

"That was, like... two weeks into me guarding you. I've been guarding you for four months." Enid narrows her eyes in suspicion. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Enid, we must go back to the castle." Wednesday stands up and starts walking away, back to their horses. "I feel deathly ill."

Enid grabs her wrist and yanks her down, pulling the smaller woman into her arms.

"No, you don't. Tell me why."

Wednesday stares at her for a moment, then tries to escape like a trapped dog. Making the same noises, too.

When that doesn't work, she slumps and looks down.

"I..." she looks at Enid's arm. "I liked having you around. You made things... better. For me."

"Wednesday..." she leans down and kisses her jaw, melting at her words. "You don't need to hide that you love me, from me. I like hearing that."

"I need you to feel safe around me." She doesn't look at Enid; staring at the grass. "How can I make you feel protected if I'm weak?"

"Firstly, I'm your guard—" she boops her nose, "—and secondly, I feel safer when you're open. It means we have no reason to hide ourselves."

"Hm." Wednesday presses against Enid's arm, and this time the knight lets her get up

"Can we go back to the castle, though?" Wednesday offers her a hand. "I'd like to be held."

Enid takes her hand and pulls her down, picking her up into a bridal carry as she stands up.

"I get to carry you." She says smugly.

Wednesday snuggles into her chest, against the soft shirt she wears.

"Okay."

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

Enid pushes Wednesday face into her neck, smiling at the way the other wraps her arms around the knight.

The werewolf rubs slow, calming circles on her back, feeling the fine texture of silk against her fingertips.

"Wednesday? You awake?"

"Yes, Enid. Why do you ask?"

"Nothin', just wanted to see." She leans down and kisses dark hair. "I love you, you know? So sweet. And nice. And pretty. So pretty."

"I'm pleased to hear my genes make you happy, Sinclair."

Enid grabs her leg and slides her up, staring her in the eyes when they're eye-level.

"Y'know, you said I shouldn't change my name from Enid—"

"And you shouldn't."

"—but you never said anything about changing my last name."

Wednesday hums and closes her eyes, adorably sleepy.

"And what would you change it to, if I let you?" She nips at Enid's jaw.

"Addams."

Wednesday's eyes pop open.

"What?"

"I'd change it to Addams." She kisses the other's forehead. "If you'd let me."

"Did you just... propose?"

"Yes."

The smaller woman stares unblinkingly at her, shocked.

"It's too late for this conversation. We'll talk in the morning."

"Okay, Wednesday."

"I love you, Enid."

"I love you too, Sweetheart."

-Writer Anon.

I'm finally awake, took a quick power nap while my phone charged and I think I'm sick

But it don't MATTER BC THE WENCLAIR??

Yknow what this all makes me think? That Wednesday fell first. You're telling me, she chooses not to have the best guard to protect her for totally normal reasons? Despite being known as pragmatic? Mmm okay

Totally normal behavior, totally not pining or anything that would be ubsurd

And then the slow thawing of professional and unprofessional makes my heart absolutely soft. I see a pattern in your works tho, that one bed? 😏 Ik what you are writer anon, Ik what you are

The lil comments from the nevermore gang always makes me laugh, I do love seeing Wenclair through other people's lenses, absolute delight to see how either odd or nauseatingly sweet they must be

Enid being so nervous to ask Wednesday out for a date despite being the only one to interrupt the queen, gets to cuddle wednesday and overall be personal.. Man, I totally understand, it's alright Enid we have all been there

The whole work is just.. So fluffy man, no wonder I passed out great after reading it

Yknow it's a great piece of work when it reminds me of how single I am like FUCKKK, WHEN IS IT MY TURN

Also Wednesday being cheeky enough to fake snore after Enid asked what happened with the whole Barclay thing is very funny, thank you for that

[shadedheart138]

I Left My Body Lying Somewhere In The Sands Of Time

This piece of writing focuses on a certain coping mechanism that I don't know if everyone is comfortable with, so I'm putting a border up. And here, I will put a definition! "Age regression is a psychological phenomenon that occurs when someone's thoughts, emotions, or behaviors revert to a younger developmental stage. It can be a temporary or long-term response to stress, trauma, or other factors, and it can happen at any age."

So this is NOT A KINK, and I only say this due to the people I know are out there who perceive it as such. People have this in real life. People cope with this in real life. This is just a personal headcanon that I was learning how to write with, and I'm doing my best to know all the research. Please let me know if anything doesn't fit or doesn't seem right or anything that I've gotten wrong, I'm trying to learn.

If you don't want to read it, no one is forcing you to. Be safe, readers!

Time was supposed to be unshakable, wasn't he? Their leader, the man everyone turned to for answers? When something goes wrong, who's the first person everyone knew had the answer to the given problem? Always ready to give advice. Ready to comfort. Old and wise.

So why was he curled in the trunk of an old tree, not feeling old at all?

His adventures had been hell, with time travel. More than double of his lifespan had been spent as a child. But he was in his late thirties now, he was sure, so why did he suddenly feel so small like the world was too big and he wanted to hide? Where was the strong leader people looked for?

He was gone, and a child was left in his place.

Link sniffled and cried, hugging himself. Thankfully they'd been at his and Malon's ranch, so whatever this... this was, was at least occurring in woods he knew were safe. But to someone who felt so small, feeling like the treetops hit the sky, like his memory wasn't quite there or complete, the forest was a maze. Almost like he was nine again. If Time was Time, he'd walk home in five minutes, no problem. But he... Was he Link out of Termina? Link after beating Ganon? Where was the math, what was his age? Would the Mask of Truth show him how old he really was, deep inside?

Was he nine, seventeen, sixteen, eight, five, thirteen, eighteen, or thirty six? That was too many numbers to think of. Masks he could do. He knew them, he wore them, he was the person inside for a bit. Somebody different. Certainly not the mess he was now.

He couldn't walk out, no problem, this time.

Link's hands- at least he knew he was Link, if not anything else. Was that a comfort or a curse? - fumbled at his belt. So many masks usually lined his belt. Where did they all go? The details were fuzzy. Only three of them were still there. At least there were three and they weren't all gone.

He hit his elbow on the tree and instead of flinching, his cries renewed, quiet and confused. Ow, why were even the trees being mean to him today??? It wasn't fair! It wasn't his fault that his limbs were too long and he was too tall and he felt too old to sit here and cry. Brain and body were not the same. Both complex in different ways. All mixed and matched and jumbled. He couldn't quite get a proper grasp on that feeling in the back of his brain, starting to spread and bleed fuzzily into the rest of his consciousness.

Link sniffled and rubbed his eyes. Right, what was he trying to do again? Masks? Ah. The first one he'd ever held.

He unclipped the Deku Mask with shaking, too-big fingers and cradled it gently. Perfect. He sniffled again. " 'M sorry." His voice was thick and small. He then slipped the mask over his face.

XXX

Why did transformations hurt so much? He'd forgotten how much they hurt. He didn't want to hurt. Had he, at some point, gotten used to it? But when had he had the chance to forget, it couldn't have been that long ago?

No matter. Link was maybe a little shorter than he was at nine, with the mask, and that almost cured his sniffles completely. Small in both body and mind, perfect! Matched like Malon's favorite cucco socks! But now what was he going to do, in these woods, in the late hours of the day? It was rapidly getting dark.

Being small wasn't useful in the dark.

And oh, Link didn't like the dark. Things that screamed and cried and took your life lived in the dark. The moon lived in the dark. Majora. Ganon. They all lived in the dark and he was surrounded by it, barely able to see the trees. No fairy to light his way. No song of home faintly heard through the trees to be his guide. Not even a night light.

He burst into tears again.

Link's tears weren't really there, seeing as he was effectively a Deku Scrub. There were no tears to cry. But the frantic breathing was there, the choked sounds in the back of his throat where vocal chords used to be. His hands were clumsy, made of wood, but they were small, how he wanted, needed, felt. How would he get home?

Oh, no no no, Link couldn't go home. They would think he was so silly, Mido would laugh. But was he going home to the Kokiri, or home to Malon? Would Malon think he was silly? His boys?

He didn't want to think of his boys. Link wasn't someone's dad. Being a parent was an adult job. And Link had just made the rule that he wasn't allowed to think of adults, effective immediately. Perfect rule, and rules were to be followed. Rules kept you safe.

So, instead of trying to go home, he scampered off deeper into the woods. He could find fairies, some light. And maybe when he felt better, they could guide him home. Navi always seemed so good at that.

XXX

"Where the fuck is he??" Warriors hissed, looking at the darkness outside. Time had gone out hours ago, claiming he needed firewood. It didn't take hours to gather wood from a stack of wood that was already chopped. He'd seemed a little detached as he told Warriors where he was going, but Warriors had chalked it up to needing some alone time from everything around.

"He jus' fuckin' up an' vanished." Twilight was pacing again. Time wasn't known for just disappearing. Or for saying he was going one place and turning up in another. That was Wild and Hyrule's job. Sometimes Legend's, if he was pissed off enough.

"It's nearly night, don't you think-" Four was cut off by Warriors grabbing his sword.

"I'll go get him. He's somewhere out here. I'll find him. He can't be far."

XXX

Oh, Link was so far away from home, and he wanted to go home NOW. Forget looking silly, the trees were all looking at him and they were mad and there was no moon and he could hear all the noises the forest made. He wanted to go home.

Link made soft, wounded noises, heading this way and that. No fairy bushes, no mushroom lights. No Navi. No Tatl. Just the dark and ohhelpno-

A very small hole he'd wedged a foot into. Had something grabbed him? Link pulled and pulled, but his foot was stuck and tight. Maybe some sort of burrow? He'd know if he was bigger. For sure. Link whined softly. He could hear the forest moving, which meant he had to GO GO GO or else something would find him and snatch him and he'd be gone forever-

Footsteps, quietly crunching, soft to try and not be heard. Link held his breath.

And immediately lost it in a grating sob, unnatural in the transformed body. Link's hands were too clumsy, no matter if they felt the right size. He couldn't magically dig himself out of the burrow-hole. The footsteps were getting faster, more urgent. Link couldn't get up, couldn't get free, one more footstep, Link curled up over himself, two more, hands on his face, covered in dirt one more two more three and four- "Heyyyy, shh. Are you okay?" The voice was warm, calming. As if talking to a frightened, wild animal. "I'm not here to hurt you, just looking for a- Time?" A time? What a funny thing to be looking for. Vaguely, Link recalled that he responded to that name. He paid it no mind, instead continuing to try and wiggle free.

XXX

Warriors looked down at this... Deku Scrub? That clearly seemed to be Time. The scar, the eyes, even the markings had transferred. Time was making an odd rattling noise, sort of like shaking deku nuts in a bottle. Trying to talk? Trying to explain? No. Warriors noted that it was some attempt at Hylian crying, though the body wasn't built for the sound.

Oh, dear.

"Okay, okay, I'll just- I'll try to figure out what's going on, okay? Is- is it some sort of curse? Can I break it? Here let me-" Warriors reached under Time's arms to lift him free, and Time was immediately clinging to him.

XXX

A curse? Was he cursed? Link cried into Warriors' neck. He knew Warriors, knew him from stern talks and warm mugs and being carried when he was too sleepy to walk. Warriors was safe. And he'd brought light with him! Link sniffled again, hands fisted in Warriors' scarf.

Warriors started to pat him down and check him over.

"Are you hurt? Are you okay? You've been gone hours, Time."

Link shook his head. But he didn't answer the second question, nor did he respond much to his name. Warriors found the small dip under Link's chin that meant that he was wearing a mask. Warriors frowned.

"Hey, can you look at me?"

Link looked up at him.

"Are you wearing a mask?" Link nodded slowly.

"Sprite, why? You've told me you don't like using those." Link jolted at the nickname and watched Warriors with wide eyes. 'Helps', Link signed, struggling to properly move his hands the way they should for the sign.

"Helps? With what?" Warriors only got a shrug as an answer.

XXX

Time shuffled to try and lay his head down on Warriors' shoulder, but Warriors gently held his head back up. Time was being so vague. He didn't seem to be fully there, his eyes distant. What could the Deku Mask help that Time couldn't do himself? Time didn't like using masks anymore, he'd said on multiple occasions.

"Can we take the mask off?" Warriors asked, moving his hand to try and get his fingers under it-

Time startled and pushed at his hand, making that same rattling noise he'd made earlier. 'Need it!' Time signed with emphasis, shaking his head.

"Time, c'mon. We've gotta get it off, so you can tell me what's going on."

Time made what was clearly some sort of whine and tried to hide his face in Warriors' neck. Warriors made a startled noise and tilted his head a little to make more space. "Is- is there a reason you can't take it off?" Time didn't answer that one, too busy clinging.

He was acting like a child, frightened and desperate. Warriors put a hand against Time's head, holding him close. "What's going on, Time? I'm just worried." Time made an unhappy noise at the name, and Warriors was sort of freaking out inside. He hadn't seen anything like this, where someone who was normally a functioning adult acted and sounded like a child-

Oh, wait. He had.

Back in the war, once things were starting to simmer down. The nightmares and flashbacks were terrible for many people. And Warriors had seen many a person cry and wail and ask for a parent. He had seen them draw and play in a safe tent. He had watched them seem at ease for the first time in a long time. He couldn't recall what Proxi had called it, but he knew it was some form of coping. Something to make them feel safe.

Time... maybe that's what Time was facing, now. The overwhelming feeling of being small and vulnerable again. These dark woods were no place for a child, whether only in mind or not.

"Alright, Link. I'm gonna need you to take off the mask for just a little while, okay? I've gotta talk to you and need to make sure you can talk back. It might hurt, and it might not make you feel great, but I've gotta check you over. Then, if you want, you can put it right back on."

Warriors softened his voice, hoping that he'd listen.

Time- Link. He could call him Link for now. Just in case.

Link sniffled and cried... and put his hands up to take off the mask. It came off quick, and as soon as it unlatched from Link's face it fell to the ground, and Warriors was met with wailing. He'd been right, the rattling sound had been an attempt at crying.

Now with an armful of a very heavy man, Warriors grunted a little and made to sit down. Link wound up in his lap, shaking and visibly trying to make himself small as he fisted a handful of Warriors' scarf.

"Hey, hey. Okay, see, wasn't so bad. I'm gonna check you over now, okay?" Warriors started gently moving Link's body to make sure that all the nicks that'd been in the Deku Scrub body had been scars and not cuts. Finding that that was the case, Warriors then gave him a hug.

"Alright, good. You're not hurt. Can you..."

Should he really ask this question, was this an invasive ask, would he be mad-

"Can you tell me how old you are? Or how old you feel?"

Warriors bit his lip, rocking Link gently back and forth, waiting for an answer. Link gave a wounded noise and shook his head, closing his eyes and pressing at them. Worth a shot.

"Okay, can you talk to me at all? Tell me why you were so far out here all alone?"

Link visibly tried to gather himself.

" 'S hard." He whispered, voice thick and upset. Link started crying a little harder, and Warriors was quick to console him.

"No, no, no, Sprite, it's okay. You don't have to talk if you can't. I can do without. Can you sign okay? Just give me a simple yes with your hands, if so." Link signed a shaky 'yes' and then moved to hide his face again.

"Okay, buddy. Do you think we can go home now?" Link shook his head, his tears soaking Wars' shoulder. "Why not?"

Link's hands were hard to read, as he shook and clung to Warriors. Warriors caught half-made signs of 'sleepy', 'scared', and 'can't'. He sighed and moved to rest his back against a tree.

"Alright, Link. We'll just sit here until you feel better, okay?"

[syn4k]

Dusty coffin

In Stratos, death is a thing that doesn't have a lot of ritual around it. Due to Joel not really being able to die, y'know, being immortal and all, usually the residents of Stratos keep to their own customs or go somewhere else for services.

Most go to nearby Sanctuary, or hire the residents of the Goblands to give a hasty burial, but one family sent their eldest daughter all the way to the Ancient Capital, for they had heard of the tales of the man who knew his history books backwards and forwards and lived amongst the dead.

It was noon when Pix heard soft footsteps behind him, and turned around to see a young woman perhaps 20 years of age standing there awkwardly. He stood up and dusted his jeans off. "Hello," he said. "Is there something I can help you with?"

The woman opened her mouth to say something, then closed it, then looked at the crypt next to him. It was normal for visitors to drop by and ask questions about the crypt and the statue that towered above, but Pixl recognized the weight on her shoulders and the bags under her eyes.

"Ah," he said with a nod, understanding. "I can help with that, yes. Where do you live?"

"Stratos," the woman said. She kept her eyes on the ground. "We heard that you have some experience with- putting the dead to rest, burials and such."

Pix nodded. "It's not my usual line of work," he said slowly, "but I think I can work something out."

After he had excused himself to get a small bag from his crypt, the two walked back to Stratos together. It would have been faster to fly, but Pix preferred to go the way that his companion was obviously most familiar with.

As they walked, through small snippets of conversation he slowly figured out the nature of the family's situation: the woman's name was Minae, her family had resided in Stratos for a little over three years now, and her grandfather had passed only four days prior. The family did not know anyone who was experienced in this line of work, and they didn't know how to go about it themselves.

"That's fair," said Pix with a nod. "Death is a fragile subject, and even more difficult to work with."

Minae looked at him curiously. "You know a lot about death for someone who- forgive my assumption- does not look close to it at all."

Pix laughed at that. "Yeah, I get that a lot," he said. "I don't really like to share my age, because it's not a relevant topic most of the time, but trust me, I might be a smidge older than I look."

They walked through the streets of Lower Stratos and eventually ended up at a small but well-kept white stucco house near the far ends of the town. Minae knocked at the door and stepped back as an older woman with greying hair opened it, looked Pix up and down, and bowed as much as her back would allow, both hands pressed together.

"This is my mother," said Minae. "She doesn't speak much English," she added apologetically. "I can translate."

"It's not an issue," said Pix. "I only have one question to ask." Minae nodded. "Did your grandfather ever mention what he wished would be done with his body after his death?"

Minae exchanged a few words with her mother, who paused a bit before saying a couple words.

"She said he wants- wanted to be buried under a tree on the edge of the valley," she said, voice breaking a little. "It was his favorite spot to sit."

Minae's mother gestured them both inside. It was a small place but just as well-kept as the outside, and a man about the same age as the older woman sat in a rocking chair. He nodded at Pix, who nodded back.

Minae opened a door to the backyard and waved a small boy in. He was a bit too young to understand the gravity of what had happened, with his bright eyes and dirt smudged all over his knees, but he waved at Pix, who nodded back.

"Are you the death man?" he asked. He paused. "The man here for the death?"

"I am," said Pix.

"He's in this room," said the boy, pointing him down a hall. Minae followed, but the boy waved her off and said a couple words to her. She smiled at him. "He said I should probably take a break," she said. "He'll lead you from here."

"That's alright," said Pix, and the boy took his hand, leading him on towards the room at the end of the hall. He opened the door quietly.

"He sleeps," the boy said quietly, holding a finger to his lips. Pix nodded and walked in.

The room was small, but tidy and well-kept. A short dresser sat at one end, a decently-sized coffin in the other, and in the corner directly opposite the door there was a bed with the sheets covering the bed entirely. By the way the blankets lay, Pix could tell there was a body under it. The window was wide open, and a gentle breeze drifted in.

"His room," said the boy quietly. "Ba made him a death box." He pointed to the coffin. "Heavy. You probably cannot carry?"

Pix walked over to the coffin on the floor and knelt. It had obviously been constructed quickly, for the edges were unsanded and the wood was untreated, but vines and flowers were carved into the sides and along the edges of the top. Despite the hasty work, it was clearly made with care and made to last, and every joint fit together perfectly.

He lifted one edge experimentally to find that the coffin was lighter than he expected, but still had a decent heft to it. He nodded. "I will need some help carrying it."

The boy ran out, coming back in a short while later with Minae. "There's some people we know who agreed to carry the coffin," she said. "They can help."

"Thank goodness," muttered Pix, standing up. "I was beginning to worry I'd have to lift it myself."

Minae smiled briefly, then her face was back to its usual state. "Shall I get them?"

"In a minute," said Pix. "I'll need to get him in there." Minae nodded and backed out, closing the door behind her.

The man under the white sheet appeared to be in his late 70s or 80s, maybe even his 90s, and the sun-tanned wrinkles on his face and hands spoke of a long life spent in the sun. He looked very peaceful lying there on his back, and Pix hated to disturb him, but this had to be done.

It was an easier job than expected to get him into the coffin, and Pix tried his best to arrange him how he had been lying faceup on the bed. He stood up to close the coffin and noticed for the first time that the man's folded hands bore a simple gold wedding ring on one finger.

He had to pause a minute before closing the lid.

Walking outside, he nodded to Minae, who gestured for him to follow her outside. By now, the sun was high in the sky, and except for a couple dogs barking in the distance and boys shouting in the alleyway, the town was silent.

Minae led him to a nearby alleyway and waved a group of four over- all young men with broadset shoulders and strong builds, maybe loggers, maybe miners? They nodded at Pix, who inclined his head back.

"You came for the coffin?" one asked Minae. She nodded. "This the guy who's doing it?"

"I am," said Pix.

"His outfit looks like it should be in the grave itself," said another from the back. Minae winced and shot them what was surely a withering glare, but Pix just laughed. "That's fair," he said. "I do dress like an old man."

"Just dress like?" asked another boy skeptically.

"At least he knows how to joke," said the boy in the front. "So many deathkeepers are drier than the bones they put in the ground."

It was a struggle to get the coffin out of the house- none of the family was present for that except for Minae, whose eyes watered a little and who made no attempt to dry her tears. The boys all huffed as they got the coffin outside and into the nearby fields, towards a small collection of trees on the edge of the valley, including a towering oak flourishing green that Pix guessed was the tree mentioned earlier.

"There'll be another one of our guys here in a minute with a shovel," said one of the boys carrying the front of the coffin. "She has the dimensions already. She knows how far to dig and everything."

"That's good," said Pix.

"Yeah, wouldn't want any of the bits to be poking aboveground," said one of the boys in the back. Behind him, Minae sighed.

As it turned out, the girl with the shovel was already at the tree, with the same broadset shoulders and square jaw as the rest of the boys. She leaned against it, waving as they approached.

"Ello," she said gruffly. "You took too long. I already dug the hole." Indeed she had. A few feet in front of the tree was a rectangular hole of a good width and depth, and the boys all counted down together as they lifted it in, with Minae hovering nearby and the girl giving directions.

"You're the one they found, right?" she asked Pix, who nodded. "You get to cover it, then," she said, stepping aside.

Pix hesitated, and she continued. "It's a thing we do here where the person who touched the body last is the one to cover it up," she said. "They might not be satisfied anyways, and might rise in the night to be buried again properly, and nobody wants to go through all that again, especially since the person in question usually ends up breaking the coffin."

Pix nodded and grabbed the shovel, filling in the rest of the hole as he went. It was silent except for the gravelly rustle of the shovel in dirt, and incredibly warm, so that he had to wipe off his forehead three times before he was done.

"Thank you," said Minae.

"Of course," he said.

"We've already got a coin pouch ready," she said as the pallbearers and the burial girl walked off, one holding the shovel over their shoulder. "Fourty pieces, I think?"

"There's no need," said Pix, leaning against the tree. "I'm serious. You don't need to pay."

"But for the work you did," started Minae uncertainly.

"If there's a ceremony afterwards, I can handle with that too," said Pix. "No payment needed. The peace it gives both the dead and their families is payment enough."

"The ceremony is only for family, sorry," said Minae, shaking her head. "But unless you're absolutely sure-"

"I'm sure," said Pix. "No payment."

"I'll mention you in the ceremony later," said Minae, walking forwards and bowing her head. "Pix of the Ancient Capital, respecter of the dead."

"It is an honor," said Pixl solemnly.

Minae nodded, and as she turned around and ran to catch up with her friends, Pix knelt to bury a small copper coin with a candle etched on both sides a little ways under the ground. He'd forgotten to put it into the coffin, but this worked just as well. He stood and dusted off his hands.

As golden hour came, the gently striated rays of the sun alighted on a man with his simple purple wings taking to the sky.

[booksandchainmail]

Pale 10.2

“Go, go, go,” Lucy urged, whisper quiet.  Snowdrop and Avery came down from upstairs, their eyes the inverted white pupils, pink irises and black surface of Snowdrop’s Sight.  Lucy gave them a nod, then guided Melissa toward the door that went from inside Edith’s cabin to the porch.

interesting. Why are they back here? And why bring Melissa?

Avery had made it a fair bit ahead of their group, but that was what Avery always did, Snowdrop was close to Avery, and Lucy had been ahead of Melissa, waiting for Melissa to catch up.  Putting Melissa at the rear of the pack, closest to Nibble and least able to run away.

this is why we need Verona here, she can be trusted to lag behind the group

Nibble went on, “She’s close to being Aware, if she isn’t there already, but she has the inherent innocence you can’t give up unless you…”

I'd hope that having an innocent there would fend off the witch hunter, but I think he probably doesn't care. And not being a practitioner or Other means he doesn't have to worry about the karmic backlash as much

“Melissa, please,” Lucy urged.  She paused, trying to think of what to say or what to ask for, then said, “please.”

I like how bad Lucy is at reasoning with Melissa

“How do we set the table without ringing the bell?” Avery asked.  “Melissa?” Melissa was standing by, watching, a frown on her face. “Table?”

I'm lost too.

oh, no I figured it out! They want to use the diagnoses tools Nicolette showed in the extra materials to figure out what the bell does. Talk about a field test.

Lucy reached for the bell.  It swayed away from her hand as she got about a foot away. Avery tried. At about two feet, it started moving gently away from her hand, dangling, as if she was holding a strong magnet.

Guessing that having a familiar makes Avery more Other in a way that trips the alarm sooner?

Jack of diamonds, ace of diamonds, two of clubs, jack of diamonds. “That’s two of the same card. Did you mix two decks together?” Melissa asked. “Nope,” Avery said. “Defective production, maybe?” “What does it mean?” Lucy asked. “No idea.”

I know this is in reference to not knowing what the duplicated card means, but I love the idea of doing a fortune-telling spread of cards and just going "fuck if I know what that means"

Huh. I wonder if the duplicate card is because they're using a french deck of playing cards instead of tarot minor arcana, which is more what I'd think of for divination. It could be trying to map both the page and the knight of coins onto the jack of diamonds.

In which case, the elements are: fresh eyes, small steps, patient observation, enhanced endeavors due to resources (possibly swap the first and last entries). Which makes sense for these alarm detection bells!

“Do I get a love triangle?  There was that show where the girl found out she was a half centaur and that’s why she was so good at riding horses-” “I liked that one,” Avery said.

yeah that tracks

“I’ve been meaning to ask, why is this kid so obsessed with opossums?” Melissa asked.  “She’s worse than Caroline from school, with her horse obsession.  Hey, do you think Caroline watches the centaur show?”

I was thinking that this rambling seemed out of character for Melissa, who has consistently been more gloomy than annoyingly unfocused. And then I looked up codeine side effects, and restlessness and talking with uncontrollable excitement are both listed.

She laid the page on the ground, then reached over, finishing the core rune.  The triangle of air.  “For the protection of Kennet and its population, human and otherwise.” “We draw on what we’re owed,” Avery added.

Verona’s absence was very much felt.

But they picked up, and soon, all across the clearing, bells were chiming, each with a high, sweet sound that carried in a way that would let it be heard from a mile away.  Grass blew and trees swayed.

I'm returning here after a week hiatus while I was on vacation, and this visual stuck with me whenever I was thinking about Lucy

The Witch Hunter found his feet again.  One member of their group stayed down.

can't believe I paused for a week on this cliffhanger

“I mean, you’re into music and you have this… image?  A crafted self-image, you know what I mean?”  Alyssa floundered.  “Confident, specific style.  Reminded me of friends who were in a band.”

I bet you could use band as a collective noun for a group of practitioners

"You’re always going off to meet with your friends. They have similar images. Well, Avery more. Verona wasn’t so hot when she came by, but even with her, a bit.”

interesting that the kind of self-definition you do as a practitioners is noticeable to people in the mundane world. I wonder if it's just that you get used to putting forward a specific version of yourself even in normal circumstances, or if there's some reinforcement from spirits who you've shown what face you want to present

“Just… easier to think I was a screwed up, paranoid kid, than to think the world was that gross."

Thinking about something I read about how CBT? or maybe some other form of therapy often fails people of color, because it focuses on "stop being paranoid, the world isn't out to get you, that's just your anxiety etc. talking." But sometimes the world is out to get you!

“I’ve run into that.  People in dark places don’t always want to accept the help.  The darkness can be more comfortable.” An image of Verona darted through Lucy’s mind’s eye.

and in Verona's case, she doesn't have a better future (outside of becoming an Other) that she feels she can realistically aim at

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not exactly a bundle of warmth and cuddles.” “You sure?” Alyssa asked, matching Lucy’s posture, elbow on table, hand on cheek. “You’ve got a lot of warmth reserved for your mom, Booker, and Verona.”

awww

Verona’s dad stood on the edge of the lawn, dropping off garbage at the curb.  He stopped as he saw her.  She stopped as she looked at him, wearing her fox form, breathing hard. Emotions roiled inside her, flaring, boiling up.

I think Booker going back to college is making this worse: Lucy was already feeling like the people in her inner circle are leaving, and now Verona is gone too.

Then he walked down the stairs, crossed the lawn while sliding the phone back to his pocket, and set the recycling bin down.  Almost as an afterthought, he said, “Hi, Lucy.” “Hi.” Then he turned to go back inside.

this is rude, but also very funny. Just not engaging with the angry 13 year old who just appeared where a weird fox was.

Start from compassion, Lucy thought, thinking of Alyssa’s words. “Fuck offffff!” Lucy raised her voice. “And fuck you!"

lol

She found Avery, who wore a jersey top with a sports bra, shorts, and her running shoes, hair down.  She had her bag slung over one shoulder.  It looked like Avery had grown up by a year or two in just the short time they’d been active.

Welcome to puberty! And also being under life-threatening stress basically nonstop for a few months. Both will age you!

“You wish this was all easier?  Mannn, you have no idea.  I have whole days, days I feel more shitty and miserable than I ever have, and my parents are bored, bored of me being sad.  And you know who’s more bored?”

... No, I think Avery and Lucy are still winning the "how bad are things going" competition

“That Melissa might be a trainwreck no matter what we do.  She’s getting into trouble no matter what, but at least she’ll be one we can sorta steer or manage if we step in.  And maybe she’ll even find some joy in it?”

I mean, trying to steer her away hasn't worked for the past six arcs, so.

“…I care about belonging to something.  I don’t belong to family, I don’t belong to the Dancers, I don’t fit in with all those older teens who’re drinking and shit.  I don’t belong to- there’s no- there’s no me to belong to, I don’t fit to anything.  I’m so lonely it feels like my heart doesn’t beat anymore.”

this sucks! The thing with Melissa is that she is incredibly annoying for our protagonists, and also is probably not in as much trouble as they are, which makes her complaining seem petty. But also she's right that her life got fucked up, and she's miserable, and it's a shitty situation to be in for anyone, especially at fourteen.

“Help us solve a mystery, Melissa,” Lucy said.  “Help us connect some dots, how’s that?” “You’re just using me, aren’t you?” Melissa asked. “A bit. But I also want to help and if this is your road to happiness… fuck it.”

huh. That could be one way to put thing together with the Carmine Beast murder. And I guess this explains why they take Melissa to Edith's cabin

“I’m not complaining,” Melissa said, mumbling a bit.  “I want to be used.  I want to be useful.  I want to be wanted.  Awesome.” I think it’s good we got you away from that party and those older boys, then, protective cousin or no, Lucy thought, looking back.

yeah

“I am in a very going-along state right now,” Melissa said, raising the bottle she still held.  “You have no idea.”

YEAH

She dug fingers into wet, sucking blood, and found it a tangle inside, stuff getting caught between her fingers, parts that felt like they were the way further in or between bits of internals until they really didn’t. Lucy snarled, pushing until her finger hurt, but a strand of something broke and she could work her hand in, nearly wrist deep. Fishing, groping, searching for something. A bit of solid, no, that was deceptively tense tissue. She growled, face contorting, as she pushed her hand in deeper, another inch of give.  It was so hot inside.

this is also a place where Verona is missed

You’re doing more than being slow, Lucy thought. Melissa had found something.

OwO?

“I have.  Most of us have.  People, broken by them, until we’re a little more and a little less person.  I’m honorable.  If you step out of my way, I’ll give you five percent.”

I was hoping Melissa's presence would dissuade the Witch Hunter. Seems to be working a bit? And his training must have had a hell of a lot of work dehumanizing practitioners, because there's zero hesitation in viewing Lucy as an enemy combatant/monster despite her being very human.

“My own fault.” “Is that what they told you?” he asked. “No. Not at all. This is all what they’ve set up and made over centuries. It’s only your fault according to them, because that’s how they arranged it.”

I mean yes, in the sense that this is the way the world works (and damage Nicolette did) and isn't anything wrong that Melissa did. No, in the sense that this isn't something that the Kennet Trio in particular set up. Or that anyone arranged on purpose!

"And to you… Lucy or Melissa, it’s not your fault.  There’s better ways and better things.  I can tell you things they never will, and show you ways to deal with the threats that are going to be lurking in the shadows all your life.  I can show you how to feel empowered again.  I’ll be around.  I’ll come to you if you come looking for me.  Whether you want answers or a ticket out of… this.”

well that's a hell of a temptation for Melissa. I hope that bonding experience investigating the murder cabin was good for her?

The syringe was sturdy, with fine, dark filigree all down the glass, denser toward the end with the needle.  Artistry that could only come from the one place.  Inside was a oily slick of darkness, glistening, strands and clumps gathering into shapes suggestive of body parts.  And one blob of white that moved through it, to the surface of the glass. The blob of white had a face. Edith’s.

what the fuck

ok, so Fae artistry on the syringe? and I'm guessing Maricica, since it's dark filigree. And that clump of darkness... it makes me think Alpeana, but I'm hoping it's from someone else.

And why is there a blob of Edith in this? was the syringe extracted from her? Why? Who is it meant to inject? are they going to put Edith into a host who will become the Carmine Judge?

[can-of-pringles]

For your OCs that don't have pets, what pets would they want to adopt (in theory even if they can't in practice). For your OCs that do have pets, what are they and why did they choose to adopt that particular animal?

OCs that don't have pets:

Fox: She chooses not to have a pet due to her job and constantly having to be away from home. As well as how dangerous her job is. It wouldn't be fair to the animal. But if she could have a pet, she'd have a dog. Probably a big dog, like a lab.

Arline Lanes: It's more like she doesn't have a pet yet. Honestly, it's only a matter of time lol. She loves animals and isn't picky on what type. She does have to have Viktor's permission though. She'd probably end up with a dog or cat type of creature. (It's Arcane so it isn't really rooted in reality obviously) although I can actually imagine them having a Great Pyrenees type of dog when they live more out in the country.

Carina Shepherd: Doesn't have pets due to related trauma from the lab. But she'd probably have a cat.

Arith: Not sure if it counts but Arith did have a horse named Frost. He currently doesn't have a pet because of the emotional toll it would take on him. Ironically he seems like a cat guy.

Iriel: Again, she does have her horse, Rose, for a long time, but I just don't know if that counts. She doesn't have any other animals but she does often foster cats and dogs.

Kaia: Aziraphale and Crowley don't seem like the pet type so she didn't grow up having pets. She probably would have a cat though.

Odel: Doesn't have any pets. Probably would get one after marrying Kaia. I could see her liking Guinea Pigs.

Eliška Hasek: I feel like it would be odd for her to have a pet... if she had one though it would probably be something like a fish?

Lee Quinn: Her adoptive mother didn't let her have any pets growing up, although now since she's in the dreaming there's not much stopping her from having a dream pet. Honestly, she'd probably come up with some sort of cute dog-shark hybrid thing.

OCs that do have pets:

Dannie Karim: Okay this is a bit of a cheat since service dogs aren't technically pets. But obviously, when Missy is off duty she gets to act like a regular dog. Missy is a red poodle and a Diabetic Alert dog.

Willow Tree: Willow does have all those horses, though I don't know if it counts. Either way, they also have a little terrier type of dog. As for why? Idk I feel like it's a stable for equestrian barns to have dogs around lol.

Silas Petersson: He has a Swedish Elkhound named Blizzard. He kind of always grew up with dogs and so once he had moved out and stuff he was missing that. He ended up adopting Blizzard at a shelter I think...

Marigold Rosales: I've talked before about how she looked after a stray cat as a kid for a bit and how that turned out. But anyway I feel like she's in a grey area because even though Mr. Quackers is Rosie's pet duck, he's treated more like a family pet.

Rosie Rosales-Maximoff: Speaking of... Rosie had to get a pet duck, it was destiny /j she gets Mr. Quackers for her 13th birthday I think.

Allison Dahir: She has a Guinea Pig named Piglet. If my memory is right she used to have a budgie growing up. After that, she wanted to try another type of pet, one still small though. That's how she ended up getting a Guinea Pig.

[dromjournal]

Jan 22nd

I'm at a farm, the kind that's very Austen-esque mansion like with a pond and open grass areas. The pond is overflowing somewhat due to a period of rain.

We (me and a heavily pregnant woman and a young child) need to get to the train station to go back home, but it's a long way from here and there's no cars or anything, therefore we need to borrow some horses and a carriage. We are allowed to do it as we have paid for it, but the farm owners- workers?? Still seems sort of passive aggressively trying yo dissuade us.

The owner is a middle-aged woman and she has a lot of people around her that acts as if she's a small king with a whole political party behind her. I assume that isn't too far from the truth? Though a lot of her fame is connected to this farm she is some sort of politically important person.

We drive off but very soon we realize we are tailed by another more or less identical carriage. In good faith we don't do anything about it until the wheel on our cart breaks out of nowhere. It's as if it's been tampered with. The other carriage stops too to reveal the owner and a few workers. They get out and tell us they will take the carriage and horses back, but it's okay, because the road is flooded just right up ahead and they have a large boat that they will take us over on. Okay, we don't have much of a choice really. I go ahead to check the boat and road. I'm not gone for long, s few hours at most.

When I get back I find my wife(?) had gone into labor and died shortly after together with the child. The older child had also died in some freak accident that he had caused himself, like being trampled by the horses. This is the story I'm told, although no one seems particularly upset about it. Rather they joke about how it'll be much easier to move now. Something is wrong. I am overcome with grief, and that grief turns to anger.

I just want to crash the whole thing, which I also do. I get out on the deck of the boat while the others mainly stay inside. A few of them comes outside though to smoke or just to be assholes. I kill several of the employees that had been left with my wife after they taunt me about her death. On the ferry there's a huge buffet, but I'm locked out of it on the deck (which, fair enough, I did kill the people that came outside), exposed to the weather and cold. I can't find a way in and I can only sometimes see the owner through a window, looking down at me smirking. She don't even seem to care about the employees, she just enjoys my misery.

We dock after some time and I immediately start following a stamped dirt road, the only road there is so logically the one to the station. The others follow behind me but doesn't make any attempt at catching up or talk to me. They seem in good spirits. I don't have any way to tell time because of the thick fog by the water and woods, but I haven't had anything to eat or drink for days, being "locked out" of everything on the boat and provisions long gone. I just keep thinking we are so close now, we must be there any day now. I'm stubbornly hanging on to get away.

Then suddenly the woods clear up a bit around us and I see the water close to the trail. It's the pond. Across it, just a few kilometres away, is the farm. We've been going in a circle. I fall to my knees, exhaustion taking over my body as hopelessness washes over me. I had never been close to getting out. It was all for nothing. The group behind me laughs loudly and scornfully as they walk past me, leaving me with my spirit broken on that road without a second glance. They had known, of course. I fall forward, cheek against the dry dirt, until I can no longer hear them talking and laughing in the distance. I lie there as the night grows cold and I am sure I will freeze to death. I lie there as the morning comes around and the dew melts on my skin. I am little more than a ghost, a living dead.

Then suddenly a boy on skates crashes into a tree and fall down unconscious just a few hundred metres from me. I get up, paternal worry cracking through the hopelessness and giving me enough strength and motivation to move. I can't tell much about the person because they're all dressed up in ski wear head to toe, I can just tell they're small, unconscious, and about to be dead if they don't get medical help quickly.

With powers I didn't know I still had in me I get walking,carrying the child on my back. I walk towards the only place I know there will be people. I walk despite my body being famished and exhausted, because this kid needs me.

I come up to the farm, where the owner is now busy entertaining dressed up guests. It's not like the last time I was here when it was just my family, this time the place has a lot of strangers around just looking and admiring the place. I probably make quite a sight.

She goes white when she sees me. She thought I was dead and now I'm there, which is dangerous for her both because I have reason to and might attack her directly, and because if what she did to my family got out she would be ruined. She was a politician. Her reputation was everything.

However I ignore her and call for help. Protecting comes before punishing. People are immediately filling in around me to help with the boy.

[stasiachan14]

"Home For Christmas" (Reunion prompt by @iriel3000

It's not snowing yet, but there's a chill and taste of snow in the air when Clint opens the front door of the farmhouse, swings his duffle bag over his shoulder. He turns to Natasha and gives her one of the crooked smiles she loves so much.

"Hey... it shouldn't take long. " He says.

"I know." She replies.

He's heading for New York City, trailing the bad guys without her. Russian bad guys (she knows they'll spend a decent amount of time on the phone due to this aspect of the situation, because Clint's Russian is rough). She knows Fury's called him in because he feels Clint is the best for the job. But she can't help feeling a little glum... this year. This year, they had promised they would spend a whole Christmas season ON the farm. Not just a Christmas Eve before flying out to the next mission, or a couple hours on Christmas day with time to look in each other's stockings before crashing after returning from a mission, but a REAL Christmas. And, with their baby on the way... it doesn't seem fair. But Natasha knows how it goes.

"You'll be careful?" She grips the arm of his leather jacket. Clint pulls her in for a kiss that takes the chill out of the air.

"I'll be home for Christmas. " He places one hand over her small bump. "That's a promise to both of you".

Maybe it's only her imagination, but the air seems suddenly colder as she watches him begin the drive down the long dirt lane, and she wonders at the long month looming ahead of her.

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

Of course, it's not an easy mission. Of course, it's NEVER easy. They both know that, how things that seem to be a simple operation can so quickly go to pot, and she knows he's missing her with him on the field the same way she misses being there with him, but she also knows, as she tries to keep herself busy through the long December days decorating for Christmas with a hodge podge of decorations she finds in the attic or baking gingerbread, and she feels their baby move and shift, that he would rather be there with her, and that he's missing out on time they have never really had like this.

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

There's a kid involved, a young woman, and she can hear in his voice when he calls her on the phone that he's concerned for her. She smiles to herself. Clint's always picking up strays. As if to prove her point, Lucky comes bounding in to the living room and makes himself comfortable on his blanket in front of the fireplace.

"What's their play?" She asks. She can hear him tinkering with something in the background.

"A little catch and release," he says.

"One of my old moves."

"Yeah. I miss you, you know."

She feels tears pricking her eyes. The calendar says December 18th. She's decorating a small artificial tree, but she knows when he comes home.. and he WILL come home, he has to... he'll wrinkle his nose and say they should have a real one for Christmas. Because that had been the plan.

"I promised you and baby girl I'd be home in time for Christmas". He says, and his voice sounds thick. Natasha can't help the tear that runs down her cheek, but she keeps the tears out of her voice when she says, "Then you had better hurry up and keep that promise". Underneath her ribcage, she feels their baby kicking, as if in agreement.

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

December 23rd, there's a huge snowstorm. As if suddenly all the cold fury that's been held in is let loose, and the windows of the old farmhouse shake with the wind .

Natasha somehow falls asleep on the couch, pulled close to the fireplace and with Lucky on the floor beside her. When she wakes up, she checks her phone to find that she has a message from Clint, and wonders why she never heard it ring... when the answering playback gives the time of the message, she realizes that the storm must have screwed with the phone connection. Even trying to listen to the message is choppy as her signal cuts in and out.

"Tasha... I'm sorry... I hope you'll forgive me for what I'm about to do...." Fear runs down her spine and chills her, because she can't hear all the message to know what he's talking about, and she frantically tries to call him but there's only dead air, and the sound of the storm outside.

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

Christmas Eve passes slowly, with the storm quieting to snow showers, and the constant sound of Christmas music playing from a radio as Natasha sits in front of the tree and the fireplace, crocheting a blanket just to keep her fingers busy, the music to keep her mind on something, on anything else but the fact that there's still no word from her husband. Clint would love the Christmas music, she thinks. He's a softie like that.

Later that evening, still no word. She arranges then rearranges her small pile of gifts for him under the tree, then stands looking out the big living room window at the swirling snow. A good three weeks without Clint. And it's not the longest they've been apart, but it feels like it's been an eternity, because things are different now, and they WANT the safety and security of having and making a home and a better life for their coming daughter.. a sense of normalcy. The word almost sounds mocking as Natasha stares out at all the white, because she knows deep down, this will always be their lives, being called away, being put in danger, sometimes together, sometimes one waiting for the other.. "He's alright. He HAS to be.." she says to herself. She would KNOW if he wasn't coming back to her.

She finally drifts off to sleep on the couch again later, trying to swallow down the worries and fears as 'I'll Be Home For Christmas' plays over the radio, mocking her.

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

Natasha stirs awake at 2:58 am... The fire has died down, and she thinks she heard something outside. Beside her on the floor, Lucky stiffens, and she digs under the couch cushion for one of their hidden guns, because, old habits die hard, even when they're trying to normalize. Outside it sounds like crunching snow, like a vehicle is coming down the lane... she slowly gets up and makes her way to the window as headlights shine a glare into the living room. She frowns when she realizes it's a big truck, one she doesn't recognize.

The truck stops, and she watches a young, dark haired woman climb down from the driver's side. For a minute her blood freezes, wondering if it's the worst.... then Lucky starts barking and scratching at the door, and from the other side of the truck she sees Clint stumbling through the snow, trying to run to the house. She drops the gun and runs as fast as she can to unlock the door, and he's there when she opens it. She falls into him with a gasp, and he grips her like he's afraid of losing her.

"I couldn't get through to you." She says into his coat. "I didn't know.." she stops herself before she can say what she feared. She looks up into his face, and sees the same fear reflected in his eyes, but he smiles at her.

"I uh.. brought a guest for the holiday..." He shrugs behind him to where Natasha can see the girl still waiting by the truck, a little awkward and unsure of what to do, it seems. "She had nowhere else to go."

Natasha smiles at him. "You and your strays."

He leans down and kisses her. "I promised I'd be home for Christmas. "

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

Light is finally breaking a bit later when they're sitting around the kitchen table. Natasha had put on coffee, and then got out the first aid kit and gone to work on both Clint and the girl, Kate. Clint makes a bigger fuss than he usually would about bandaids and peroxide the whole time. When she's patched up, Kate sits staring out the kitchen window, in a fog. Natasha sits down now at the table beside Clint and reaches for his hand. He looks at her over the rim of his mug. "Were you that worried?" He whispers. She shrugs. "I figured you would keep your promise. But..." She can't say just HOW worried she was that he wouldn't. She can see that he knows. He squeezes her hand.

"Oh," he says suddenly. "I know we're not doing presents yet, and.. maybe it was silly but.. I got a present for the baby." He stands up so that he can reach into one of his cargo pants pockets, and pulls out a slightly crumpled wrapped package and hands it to Natasha. She looks at him lovingly before undoing the candy cane paper and pulls out a small Christmas sweater, with a Christmas tree on the front. "It's so little," she murmurs. "You don't think she'll be able to wear it next Christmas?" He asks worriedly. Natasha smiles at him. "It's perfect. That was sweet of you." She drapes the sweater over her front and feels the baby shift inside her. "I think she likes it too." She looks at him with a question in her eyes. "Promise you'll be home for next Christmas?"

He leans over and gives her a gentle kiss on the forehead. "I promise."

-----End-------

So thanks for that prompt!! I have been long thinking that I wanted to "fix" the Hawkeye series... We were robbed. *Sigh*....

[yoooespinosa]

could you please write a draco x reader fic, where the reader is hopelessly in love with draco, and she's not afraid to show it. but draco doesn't feel the same. and draco being draco, he rejects the reader with no remorse. then when the reader finally comes to the realization that she deserves better, she started seeing new people (not necessarily dating, but more like talking), then that's when draco feels a bit jealous now that the reader isn't all over him anymore. the rest is up to you, love! just something really angsty, you could end it in any way you'd like.

also, sidenote. you're an amazing writer and i love you!!

a/n: Thank you for your request! ily <3

To say you had a crush on Draco Malfoy, was an understatement.

You couldn't help it, you couldn't just stop the feelings you developed every time he came around.

When he walked into the room it was butterflies breaking out of their cage, palms growing sweaty and your heart racing so fast you were scared you'd be able to see its indentions.

It was scary at first, to have such feelings at only thirteen years old. So you did your best to ignore them. You did your best to stay out of his way.

That only worked for so long.

When you are friends with Draco and the people that surround him, it becomes very hard to stay out of his path.

So it was only inevitable that your crush on him would become so much more. Especially as the years went on.

He hadn't made it much easier. Sometimes you felt as if, maybe, he returned your feelings. How could you think otherwise? With the way he walked with you to class, carried your books at times and spent time with you. Just you. Alone.

How could you not fall in love with him.

With all that simmering in you, you finally let it out. You made your affections obvious, not afraid to show Draco how you felt for him. You had thought it was welcomed. You thought that the feelings would be returned.

It seemed as though he could only tolerate you for so long. Yes, that was the right word for it, the only thing he had for you was toleration.

Your shoes sounded on the stone under you, on your way to the Slytherin common room. You had just got out of detention with professor Snape. You suppose it was well deserved, you had seen Draco almost put the wrong ingredient in his potion, so you being you had wandered to his table and helped him, much to Snapes dismay.

Whispering the password, you made your way through the dim passage. Chattering of people from all years and faint laughter was heard all around.

You spotted your friends right away, seated by the green flamed fireplace, as usual.

"She just can't take a hint." You heard Draco grumble, you paused your steps, you didn't mean to eavesdrop but it seemed as if your feet had a mind of its own.

"Wait," Blaise closes the book he had in his hold. "who are we talking about again?"

Pansy sighs, seeming they had been on the topic for some time. "We're talking about y/n."

Your brows furrow. Going back to the first thing you heard Draco say, she just can't take a hint, what was that supposed to mean. What hint?

"Why can't you just tell her how you feel?" Theo adds, his voice is laced with annoyance, maybe this isn't the first time they've talked about this.

"I thought how I felt would be obvious enough, without having to say anything." He huffs.

"Well," Theo sighs. "apparently not."

You were becoming anxious. What were they talking about and what exactly was Draco feeling? There was streak of hope in you, maybe he'd confess right here that he felt the same.

"What do you suggest I say then, oh-wise-one?" Draco asks teasingly.

"Easy, just say exactly what you tell us." He clears his throat dramatically, adopting a mock version of his voice, "Y/n, you have to be one of the most annoying girls, I have ever had the dissatisfaction of meeting. Please, oh please take the hint and leave me alone because these attempts at getting at me are getting more pathetic each time." He finishes with a clumsy curtsy.

The other Slytherins try to stifle their laughs.

You hadn't even noticed the gasp that escaped your throat until four heads turned to your direction.

"Y/n, I didn't kn-" You cut of Theo's words and apologetic stare.

"Is that true?" You ask Draco, your voice low, laced with hurt. Your nose was stinging and your bottom lip hung heavy, but you refused to cry in front of them. You wouldn't give them another weakness to laugh about.

Draco managed to keep his face blank, no emotions shining through. He shrugged, "Pretty much summed it up."

You almost flinched. He didn't even care about the hurt those words brought you.

You left without a look back. Leaving behind your friends call of your name. They weren't the ones you wanted an apology from. They had known how much you felt for him and didn't even bother telling you that it was definitely not mutual. They even laughed, like it was a joke, like your heart was a comedic topic.

The cold air hit your face, freezing against the tear stain tracks. You sat on a lone stone bench in the court yard, letting those tears make a home on your cheeks.

It wasn't obvious--his dislike to you. If it was, you would have gave up long ago. But a part of you felt that there was hope and you had chased after that.

Why couldn't he have just told you when you first let your affections known, it seemed that he had encouraged it back then, with lingering touches and soft smiles.

Looking back now, you notice that those advantages had slowly disappeared. You had been too caught up in his silky hair, those gray eyes filled with mirth and mischief, his angular face with high bones that no one could compare to, that you hadn't notice everything was unrequited.

A sick part of you even felt honored to have your heart broken in the hold of his beautiful hands, the part that saw him do no wrong.

Maybe that was the first problem, you put him on a pedestal, so high up you weren't able to see anything negative of him. You weren't able to see his cruel reality of his feelings towards you.

And he didn't even seem sorry. He didn't even look bothered by the damage of his words.

You were so nice and considerate to him. You would support him at every quidditch game, cheer the loudest even when he lost. You bought him presents for every one of his birthdays and even Christmas, each one sentimental and thoughtful. You had comforted him when he got those letters, that he despised, from his father. You had voiced encouragements when he showed a little tell sign of his insecurities. You had been there for him.

And he treats you like this, like you can be so easily dismissed. You didn't deserve that, you didn't deserve to be called pathetic for having normal feelings and then being laughed at for it.

The longer you sat on that cold bench, the angrier you got. A bitter feeling growing in your stomach, melting away those knots.

You wasted all this time and effort on some guy who didn't even deserve it, some guy who didn't appreciate you. It wasn't fair.

"Hey, you okay?" A familiar voice sounded through your revelations.

You looked up and met green eyes framed with circular glasses.

"Yeah. I was just thinking." You mumbled, the bitter taste was stuck on your tongue, you wanted rid of it.

"Mind if I sit and think with you?" Harry asked, he was nervously scratching the back of his neck, smiling warmly at you.

You offered him a smile, welcoming his genuineness. "Go ahead."

He sat there with you for hours. Surrounded by the sound of wind. It was nice and comfortable. The bitter feeling leaving you completely. You were content now, even if you could still feel the ache in your arms from holding onto Draco for so long.

Weeks had passed. Weeks of no signs of you. The first week Draco hadn't been worried, a little curious, but that was all. The longer it went on though, he became a little more than curious. Not because he cared, cause he didn't, just that if something happened to you, it would be his fault. His rejection was the reason you ran off like a fool to who knows where.

Which is the only reason he went looking for you. He already got a lot of shit from the others, he didn't need more problems stacking up.

He checked all of your favorite places. Starting with that tree down by the black lake that you enjoyed to lean on and watch the sun go down, the sunset wasn't near so he should've known you would not have been there.

He then went to the gardens, there was a bench there that was next to a small pond. It was filled with odd creatures and was home to your favorite flowers, lotus's. You weren't there either.

Lastly, he went to a certain abandoned hall. You had to be there. You went there to be alone with your thoughts, you had taken him with you there a few times. There was a big window there with a thick ledge, streams of sunlight beamed through and tiny rainbows would reflect on the opposite wall due to the cracks on said window.

He heard you before he saw you. A soft laugh reverberating through the empty hall, a laugh he had always found annoying. Hearing it now though, just made him want to get closer to you.

So he did, walking with light footsteps. He froze, you were not alone. Sitting there in the space he once accompanied, was Harry fucking Potter. What kind of sick joke was this?

Why were you sitting with him? And does that mean you just laughed at something he said?

Your laugh sounded through again, once piercing now melodic. It was a bitter feeling, Potter shouldn't have the honor of dragging that sound out of you, he shouldn't even witness it.

Draco left the hall before either of you saw him, he needed to get himself in check.

More weeks passed. Weeks of you hanging out with Potter. You were doing things with him that you had done with Draco.

It was on purpose, you had to be doing it on purpose. You were simply trying to make him jealous and it was annoyingly working.

But how could you be doing that when you didn't even look back to see a reaction.

Draco didn't know what to think. He didn't even know what to feel, or more like let himself feel. Something had changed in the weeks you were away from him.

A revelation of sorts. He missed you. Missed what you would do for him. He regretted what he said and what he never had the chance to say. Because maybe deep down those feelings had been returned, but he was just too stubborn to show.

And now he's seeing you realizing that you deserve more than blurred lines and assumptions. And he's realizing maybe Potter is that more that you deserve.

Draco doesn't like that one bit, he can't even stomach the thought. So he promises to himself that he will do everything in his power to win you back. Even if that means saying that he was sorry and admitting that he was in the wrong, something he's never had to do before.

But if that makes you his again and gets you away from Potter, then its worth it.

Part 2

[yandere-daydreams]

I'm not sure if anyone has asked you this, but how would you imagine the Spirit of Halloween be as Yandere? The mischievous tricky type searching for a forever vi-- I mean friend to play with for all eternity? To play twisted trick to make the person be unable to distinguish reality due to constant fear? If they try to tell anyone, their friends or family member would just brush it off as nothing since it's October. That its just the wind howling in the night. A tree branch tapping their window

tw - stalking, non-consensual touching, obsessive mindsets, implied imprisonment.

To be fair, it never starts as horrific as it gets. Halloween's about tricks, about pranks, about watching your friends jump and scream and laugh, afterwards, when they realize the object of their terror was little more than a plastic spider or a rubber snake. It always starts out small - misplaced objects, chapstick stolen off of your bedside table, a window you can vividly remember closing and locking before you went to sleep found open, the next morning, letting the heat seep out of your cramped apartment and the biting Autumn chill take its place. You catch a cold, once or twice, have to make a few unexpected supply-runs for sugar and candy and all the other sweet, trivial things they like to take, but it's nothing you can't live without, nothing you can't blame on a neighbor's creative cat or your own forgetfulness. It's nothing you can't ignore, even if ignoring the tapping on your window in the middle of the night takes a little effort, sometimes.

And, of course, it escalates, because it always escalates. You feel hands on you, in the middle of the night, fingers brushing against your jaw, palms pressing into the small of your back, not that anyone's ever there when you turn around to check. Other things, different things, begin to disappear. Books you forgot to put away, all appropriate for the season. Costumes that've been living in the back of your closet for years, some bought, some hand-made, all missing, gone without a trace when you think to look for them. Posters for horror movies, all of your favorites, all films you've seen a hundred times, not that you plan on re-watching any of them, this year. There's something watching you, all the time, every day, even after you stop going outside, locking yourself away, cutting yourself off from the outside world just to try and keep whatever's out there from getting in again and again and again. It doesn't work, obviously. They're still there, right next to you, slotted against your side, curled around you, laughing as they tell you not to be so serious, not to be so boring.

You've always been so good for them, so cooperative, and they've always liked playing with you so much, even if you haven't been as lively, lately, as willing to brush off their... less harmless tricks. You're still sweet, though, and they still like you. They still want to play with you.

And they'll give you all the time you need to learn to play along.

[justsomeectoplasm]

Name: Prince Alef (he/him) Personality: Often cheerful, however, does struggle with self-esteem and self-worth, especially since losing his Light. Backstory: The former Prince of Sky and son to his Majesty King Resh, Alef was technically the first Child of Light before his Light was left behind in Eden to help the Sky Children. Headcanon: My version of Alef and Resh are separate entities; father and son.

(Art piece and extra info provided by asker. I love this concept so much.)

No kingdom was selected, so I'm randomly choosing one.

The kingdom I'm placing your skykid in is: Oops! It seems the portal towards the Sorano Kingdom malfunctioned! Your skykid is instead sent to: Faewild

"Soft tweets of birds resonated through the world. Gentle sunlight cascaded onto Alef's face, making him wake up from his slumber. He rubbed his eyes, trying to rid the sleep of them. He looked around trying to grasp his surroundings. Neatly cut bushes and trees that twist in unnatural ways. The flowers are also glowing, and they seem to glow even brighter when he nears them. Is he...in a garden?

Alef begins to panic a little. Isn't this the Sorano kingdom? Why is he in a garden? Where is he? This doesn't look like a city...

He stood up. Maybe he landed in someone's home? The last garden they've been to was before the fall of the kingdom, behind the castle his father made for him. Oh no what if he landed in a castle? He can't see any buildings, so maybe he's not?? Is it a public garden?

Wherever he is, Alef thinks that he needs to explore a little to find the exit. Maybe he can find someone who can help him. Hopefully they're friendly."

• The garden is like a maze. Everywhere Alef went, everything looks the same. That or he started walking in circles. He doesn't know at this point and it's frustrating.

• But for some reason, his eye is starting to look less cloudy. He can almost see a bit more colour than usual. Whatever kind of place he is, it's doing...something to him. He feels happy, but something questions him if he'll be fine.

• Fiddling with his necklace nervously, he continues to walk around until he finds a sort of building in the middle of a lake. It has no walls, but instead columns with intricate designs that support the roof. There are lilypads scattered across the lake and small path of stones that lead to the building. There should be someone in there. Hopefully not many people, since crowds tend to...stare at him whenever he walks by.

• Alef hops on one stone to the next, the lilypads blooming when he passes by. That's strange.... Usually due to his lack of light, light plants in this world doesn't react at all when he passes by. Alef wonders if he should get to the bottom of this or just leave it like that and accept it.

• Jumping on the steps of the building, Alef cautiously walks into the building, looking around the building. There's many golden statues lined up in the building, all depicting stories both heroic and tragic. He stares at them in wonder. It reminds him of the palace that his father lived in, although all the sculptures were dedicated to either the king or him.

• As he walks towards the end of the building, Alef was greeted by the most biggest and detailed statue there is. It depicted a type of warlord at sea, a trident in his one hand and the waves bursting out from behind him, always frozen in time. Alef was mesmerized by the details, so much so that he didn't hear the clicking of shoes behind him and how the vines were growing a little bit quicker. Then, a gentle voice behind him broke Alef's attention, "Oh dear. I did not expect someone to be here."

• Alef almost screamed from fright. He whipped around, so quick that he tripped over his feet and fell towards the ground, groaning a bit. He held his sore head, wincing at the pain. A voice chuckled. "Did I scare you, child?" Alef looked up to see...a woman. She had auburn hair and beautiful green eyes with fair skin. Her dress looked like a butterfly, even the colour matched her hair. And on her head laid a crown, looking as if it was twigs dipped in gold.

• At that moment, Alef connected the dots and realised, in horror, that he indeed stepped into a royal garden. Immeadiatly Alef bowed deeply and sputtered out apologies. "I'm so sorry, your majesty! I didn't know I was wondering around the royal gardens, I had just woken up from traveling." He said, his voice shaken. Oh no, was he going to be punished? He already looks different from skykids and gets odd looks, now what's going to happen to him when he gets accused of trespassing on royal grounds?!

• "Raise your head, little one. I am not angered by you." The queen said, as she offers her hand to Alef. He hesitantly takes it as he stands up from the ground. The queen motioned him to follow her, to which he obliges. As Alef walks alomgside her, the Queen asks for his name, her eyes never leaving Alef. "Pri....Alef. My names is Alef." He said, as he looks down at his feet. The Queen nods slowly as she stops at a statue depicting a centaur, "I have heard of your kind." She says, her eyes never leaving the staue. "Ori children, children of the pasts. Truthfully I had thought that many of you were using the name of the light goddess to use people." Alef swallowed a lump in his throat, his nervousness never calming down. "But then one of your kind stumbles upon my garden. I have never felt such an everylasting light from something in my life. And it was all in the form of a small child." She starts walking again, her heels clicking on the marble floor.

• "I have wanted to speak to them, ask them their name, but they flew away like a startled bird. I had thought you all had no respect for royals, and yet then I heard that none of you know of a royal. The only ones they knew fell to ruin long before their time." She stops at another statue, one of a mermaid. "I do so truly wanted to meet another one. You fascinated me. Children who can help the dead pass on was unheard of in this kingdom, let alone other kingdoms." She looks at Alef and leans down. "And I was so unfortunate and yet so lucky to meet another one in my garden. Who, not only respected me as a royal, also lacked more light." Her eyes feels like it's piercing into Alefs soul. "You're different from the other children of light, aren't you?" She said. Alef laughed nervously, "I guess your majesty could say I light up with mystery" he said without thinking, cringing at himself for the pun. The queen looked shocked athim before she erupted in laughter, her elgant facade melting away. Alef soon joined her, laughing with her. She gently pats his head. "I haven't had such a laugh in a long time, child. These days have been busy." Alef smiles brightly at her.

• Suddenly she stops patting his head and stands up. "What's wrong?" Alef asked as he looks around. A few voices could be heard, some calling out for the queen. She sighs "I had wanted to talk with you a while longer, but it seems they're looking for me again." She looks back at Alef, a bit saddened. "Will you return?" She asks. Alef only gives a smile back to her. "I'll try, your majesty." He means it, but he didn't even know how he manged to find this garden. The Queen smiles wearily before taking off her necklace. "Here. To make sure you never forget me. Your kind never ages like mine, but yet you also never die. I'm afraid that when the years have gone by, you will forget me. So, to make sure you don't," she puts it on Alef. "Take this. Now go, quickly before they find you. The court is always talking about how much they want your kind to perform for me but I dearly hoep they so not force them to perform. Please be careful, young Alef." Alef nods, his smile wavering before he flies away.

• Alef looks back at the garden, now seeing how vast and maze like it truly is. He feels his vision in his eye becoming clearer, the light coming back into him.

What a curious place.

Additional headcannons

• Somehow the kingdom fixed his eyesight and returned a little bit of light back into Alef. He's overjoyed that he can see properly again.

• The gifted necklace he wears became a bit sought out. Especially the fae in the kingdom tried to trick him into giving them. But he still has it, holding it close.

• Although he's not royalty anymore, the royal families seem to favour him because he knows of their status and his happy go lucky personality draws them in. He's friends with a few royal children even!

• Alef is still trying to go back into the faewild and meet the Queen again. Although he hasn't seen her since after he left the faewild. He sometimes how is she doing.....

[polarbearaone]

Thousand Light Years

Aone trusts his mother more than anyone, but does he love her more than you.

Aone’s father was rarely present in his life. His mother taught him everything, how to ride a bike, how to be gentle despite his size. No matter how gentle Aone was, he never seemed to get a romantic interest. Sure, he liked girls but he never found one that liked him back. Due to this, Aone built a heavy bond with this mother, she was always there for him, she never judged him. Deemed a momma’s boy, Aone would always value his mothers opinions. The first time Aone talked about her, his mother got worried. She didn’t want her baby boy to get hurt again. “ Takanobu, how is volleyball going?”, she desperately tried to change the subject. The second time she was brought up, Aone asked his mother what type of flowers girls liked. “Now he wants to get her flowers?” his mother thought. “ I have to go to the store, baby, make sure you eat ok?”, after a chaste kiss on the cheek, she bolted out the door. Aone wasn’t dumb but he surely was confused as to why his mother has been doging his questions lately. “ Maybe she wants to meet her. '' Futakuchi comforted his tall friend. Aone gave a chaste grunt and continued to eat. “Maybe she’s jealous Aone-san!” Koganegawa said with too much emotion. Everyone's eyes darted to him as he continued voicing his opinion. “ My mom is pretty jealous too! I remember in junior high, this girl liked me so I took her to come meet my mom. She was so dry and out of it. Figure, your mom might be like that too.” Kogane went back to munching on his lunch, as if he just didn’t provide Aone with the explanation to his problem. “Look, I know you really want your mom to know her but take yourself into consideration man. It won’t end well if they meet, don’t lose this chance” Keiji barely said before the lunch bell rang. (Y/N) had the habit of sending notes to Aone in the middle of class. She figured since he didn’t like talking, maybe he liked writing. “ What’s wrong nobu-san?” the small note read. Oh how he wanted to tell her everything. In the small time they got to know each other, she became a safe place for him. Almost like his mother. The day went by fast, as Aone’s thoughts consumed him. Surely his mother had to accept the girl that was making his son’s heart flutter. “ Get you head out of it” Aone’s thoughts were broken as Futakuchi sat next to him on the train. “ I have a plan so I’m going over to yours, is that ok?” A simple nod is all he received. “ I want to see how your mom reacts, I’ve known her for two years, sure she’s quite like you but she doesn't seem like the jealous type. I’ll slowly bring up (Y/N) and see how it goes. I just want to see you happy man”. Aone felt grateful for the wonderful friends he had. He was alone most of his life, and now he has friends helping him and his romantic dilemmas.

Aone’s house is a quick walk from the train station, the boys were easily at Aone’s front porch within a couple minutes. “ Hello Mrs.Aone!” Futakuchi saif cheerfully, thinking of how to initiate his plan. “ Hello Keiji-kun, will you stay to eat?”...” With your food? Always”. Three plates later, Futakuchi slumped in his chair. “ Ah, everything I come over I eat like a starved man.” he stated, patting his tummy. “ I’ll pack some for your mother too. I’ll be back” After she walked out, the plan commenced. “ Ok Aone, I’m going to make a fake phone call to (Y/N), I don't know, I’ll add something related to Christmas. I’ll make it sound like she really cares for you, then your mom would be ok with it right?” Keiji said excitedly. Aone’s head slanted like a confused bear. “ To be fair, I said I had a plan, never said it was a good plan.” Aone’s mother’s footsteps could be heard walking back to the dining room. He quickly dialed (Y/N) to commence the plan. “Hello?” you answered, confused as to why Futakuchi would call you. “ Oh hey! Yea, I think he would definitely Like that '' Futakuchi said out loud, making sure Aone’s mother could hear. “Hmm, Aone always liked turtles, maybe something of that sort” Futakuchi’s loud voice made Aone;s blush deepen. “ Futakuchi-san, what are you talking about?” You were not even more confused. You knew he knew about your crush on his best friend but he didn’t think he would outwardly call you about it, though it did help since you were planning to confess to him on Christmas day. “ Keiji-kun, its rude to speak on the phone while you're in the table” Aone’s eyes shot up to his mother. She never commented on someone else's actions, especially when she talks on the phone in the table too. “ Sorry, ‘I’ll call you later (Y/N)’ Again, sorry for being rude Mrs.Aone, I think its best for me to leave, thank you for the food” Futakuchi power walked to the door, giving a signal to Aone that he’ll text him later.

“ Yea, you’re mom is definitely jealous” The notification pulled up on Aone’s phone. “ She never comments on my actions :('' a second message came in. Determined to fix the issue, Aone made his way to his mother’s room. “Hi baby, what’s up” his mother looked up from her book. “Why are you acting weird” he bluntly stated. “ I have no ide-”...” The first time I have a girl that likes me back, you act all different. I thought you would be happy for me.” Aone said with a monotone voice. “ Takanobu, baby, you wouldn;t understand. What she feels for you is temporary. Don’t you remember what Sayu made you feel? She liked you for one week and left you. What makes you think that (Y/N) won’t do the same? They all just want to hurt you, like your dad hurt me” He saw his mother spit every word out. He knew his after leaving caused a heavy impact on her. He became the man of the house, a pillar for his mother to lean on. He could never leave his mother. What if she had a point? What if you temporarily liked him? Why would he leave his mothers side to be with someone who would love him for one day? He kneeled down by his mother, tears threatening to spill out. “ Takanobu, look at me. You can;t continue to like her. She will never love you like I do” Her words opened the gates to his tears. She held her son once again, despite his large size, he would always be her little boy.

Everyone noticed how Aone seemed to ignore you in school. You couldn’t say he stopped talking to you, the only form of communication the both of you had was through small notes. You naive mind tried to find excuses. “ What if he is trying to play hard to get, it’ll make the confession much more worth it now. Wait. isn;t tomorrow Christmas?!” Taking out a small note, you quickly wrote. Passing it to Aone’s seatmate. Aone opened the small note, wanting to not even read it, remembering his mothers words. “Please meet me by the Christmas Tree outside the school gate around sun down tomorrow!” Aone crumbled the small letter in his palm and placed it in his pocket. Tomorrow he would tell you how he felt. Tomorrow finally came, you put on a beautiful christmas dress. It was a deep blue, complementing Aone’s name and white hair. You grabbed the neatly wrapped present and made your way to the school gates. The sun was setting way faster than you expected, the street lights were coming on as you saw Aone from a distance, sitting on the bench near the highly decorated tree. “Aone-san!” you quietly yell as you power walk to him. His eyes stayed fixated on the tree, not wanting to look at you. Sitting down next to him, you pushed the present towards him. “No thank you” is all he said. Turning his face to you, you saw his tear stained face. “ I always dreamed of finding a soulmate. Getting excited to see a single person is all I ever wanted. I thought it was you too, but you’re just like the rest.” Aone softly said. His words were like baldes to your heart. “What?” your voice cracked. “ My mother always knows what is right, I loved you (Y/N), I really did, but I trust her more than you. Looking at the stars, I remembered you and I asked if there was anyone for me, perhaps in another galaxy far from here. I will keep looking for a thousand light years”. Aone simply stood up and walked away. The cold wind comforted you, the dim lights made the tears streaming down your face look like shooting stars. With shaking hands, you opened the gift. Pulling out the small turtle ceramic, you smashed it on the floor, revealing a turtle keychain with the small words “Be Mine?”

[anystalker707]

You're like art

Pairing: Gerard x Reader Word counting: 1 603 Genre: Fluff / Cottagecore Summary: Gerard and (y/n) have a peaceful day, painting by the lake and laying down on flower fields

Requested on Wattpad

Gerard and I have been planning it for a time already, but the universe never seemed to comply with us until today, when the sun finally decided to show up in a day when we're completely free from any appointment. We shared the same thought as soon as we woke up, even without having changed any word. Our equipment has been prepared for a long time so we wouldn't waste time before just grabbing it to go, leaning against the wall of the bedroom, to a point a thin sheet of dust covered them objects when we moved to grab them.

I organize a bag with food and a few drinks since we obviously won't be returning so soon and make sure we have everything for us to leave.

We have had lunch about half an hour ago, in a way the sun is bright and high in the sky once we leave our house, but it isn't exactly a problem since the place we're going to isn't far from here and perfectly shaded by trees at this time of the day. The warm embraces us like a warm hug from the woods once we start walking into it, proving we were right in choosing lighter clothes to wear.

"Did you grab the solvent?" Gerard asks, voice muffled among the sound of the wind going through the tree's leaves and the dry ones cracking under our feet along with twigs. The woods so silent, yet so loud.

"Of course, I had left it along with the paints already," I tell him, glancing at Gerard with a smile before I press a kiss to his cheek.

Thankfully, the lake soon comes into view.

The lake isn't that wide, water almost completely clear as it is surrounded by bright green grass which covers the way until the small plants start turning into trees. Lilac flowers grow on a few points, along with a few yellow ones, giving the place an even more pleasing, comfortable, warm vibe.

Both of us have been working on a painting together – we made sure of bringing it with us today so we can work more on it. Maybe it's the excitement for doing everything, the whole time we spent wanting to work on this, even the setting, but the need to paint is so great. Seeing the paint laying around, having stains of paint all over our hands, observing the delicate result of the soft brushes against the canvas are almost like if a necessity as important as eating, right now, making us feel like the lack of it will drive us to death, in a way.

Gerard observes me throwing a blanket over the grass before he takes a seat beside me, carefully placing the canvas down on the ground. We start organizing everything, the brushes, bottle of solvent, paints and palette, along with the cloths to clean the brushes on. Bringing the stand wasn't really an option since it wouldn't be exactly convenient, so the ground it is.

A sigh escapes my lips as I observe Gerard carefully starting to fill the palette with paint and mixing the colors carefully to reach the tone he wants.

The sunlight casts over Gerard, squirming between the leaves and making its way through the trees, creating light spots that illuminate his pale skin and create beautifully contrasted shadows, giving Gerard a baroque air, which gets even richer when his eyes are illuminated the right way.

"What?" Gerard asks, a shy smile taking over his lips when he notices I've been observing him.

"You're just so beautiful," I tell him the truth with a smile, watching it as his cheeks gain a red tone with the compliment and his eyes drift downwards.

"It's just because you love me." Gerard turns back to the painting, thought noticeably happy with the compliment. "C'mon, paint with me, quit gazing at me so much," he teases lightly, momentarily pausing his actions to pull a dark strand of hair away from his face, hooking it behind his ear.

"Sure, love." Despite my words, I instead move to grab the polaroid camera from the bag and proceed to take a picture of Gerard. He only notices it due to the sound of the picture being taken.

"Hey!" He glares playfully, humming as he leans in closer to me. "Let me take a look."

The picture slowly appears on the small piece of paper and I smile pleased with it, though it absolutely doesn't make justice for Gerard and the beauty he holds right now. He doesn't share the same thoughts. I roll my eyes, giving his arm a light slap. "Let's paint," I say as putting the camera aside and finally moving to help him with it.

At some point, the attention we once gave the paint is reduced to neglect since we end up getting more distracted with snapping multiple pictures of each other, giggling as we roll around on the grass. I take more pictures of Gerard, easily snatching the camera from him, managing to capture all the moments in which he's giggling or trying to act angry at me. Gerard quickly tries to solve this and, before I can notice, he's straddling my hips to prevent me from moving and taking uncountable photos of me like I did to him moments ago.

"I guess we ran out of paper..." Gerard mutters, furrowing his eyebrows as he presses down on the button a few times, but nothing comes from the camera. He just stares at it in frustration, pouting.

"'Seems like it," I say with a sigh, calming myself down after all the laughter. My hand runs up and down Gerard's thighs in an affectionate motion while I observe him still fidgeting with the camera. "I didn't think we would take this many of pictures, so..."

"Sounds fair." Gerard puts it away and his expression changes into a loving one once he turns to me again, hands taking place on my shoulders. His lips meet to mine in a sweet kiss, his hand cupping my neck as his thumb traces my jawline softly. He pulls away at some point, but quickly pulls me to a kiss again, humming quietly against my lips. "We should go to the flower field nearby. You know how beautiful it gets during the sunset."

"Of course," I say with a smile, brushing my nose against his lightly. "There will be no problem if we leave our things here, right?"

"Well, if anyone wants a halfway done painting and pictures of two random strangers being weird... good for them, good for them," he says sarcastically and both of us break in chuckles. "Let's go." Pecking my lips, a last time, he moves to stand up.

We grab the cans of tea we brought with us and head towards the flower field. There's a small space on which we like to lay, mainly because we end up not damaging any of the flowers due to the lack of anything but grass there. The flowers aren't too tall and are the same lilac and yellow ones from around the lake, giving us a notion of their origin, though the field holds a greater variety of flowers and colors.

I press my lips to Gerard's suddenly, stealing a kiss from him and continue pressing kisses all over his face, what has him giggling. "I won't be able to drink my tea, that way," he complains, but all I do is to roll my eyes and press a kiss to his pouting lips. He stares and I can't help but to chuckle.

The sun is starting to set itself down in the horizon when we start sipping on our drinks and I start observing the field, which's down a hill that ends in another clearing in the woods. Gerard resting his head against my shoulder brings me back to reality – I observe him for a moment and sigh happily, pressing a kiss to his head.

Everything is quite peaceful. Our cans are empty by the time the sun has almost completely hidden itself behind the hills in the horizon – casting bright and beautiful colors on the clouds standing in the way of the sunrays – and we set them aside to get it again when we leave. We lay back on the grass to watch the sky, side by side, hands holding onto each other.

Gerard's fingers play with mine, in an almost tickling sensation because of how gentle his touch is. His hand wraps itself around mine again, giving it a squeeze before Gerard is rolling over onto his stomach and bringing himself up on his elbows, looking at me with a loving gaze, one that has me feeling my heart fluttering.

"You're losing the sunset," I whisper for no apparent reason, but it feels like the atmosphere is too delicate even for a loud voice tone.

"Why would I?" Gerard has an amused air on his expression, speaking with such a certainty, in the same quiet tone as me. "You're much more beautiful. I prefer to appreciate you."

"There'll never be a sunset like this again, yet, I'll continue like this for a long time," I tell him.

"And you'll never be under the light of a sunset like this again, so I guess I have the right of choosing my priorities." It's clear he isn't able to hold back the grin his lips part into and he seems pleased with how he makes me flustered, wordlessly bragging about it by pressing an unexpected kiss to my lips.

[ultimatetrashgoblin]

Blaire Reviews: Arin Season 1

Disclaimer: This is all my opinion, you are allowed to disagree with me. I encourage you to read this route and form your own opinions.

First Impressions

I was in love with Arin ever since I first saw them in Nora’s route. This is a route that I (and I’m sure many others) have been waiting for after nearly a year, and it surpassed all of my expectations.

We're thrown into the action in the first episode with the introduction of the jabberwocky. Arin reveals to FMC their role as the Guardian, the magic library, and the secrets within it that they have to protect. They put the jabberwocky back in its pen, where Arin realizes that the lock had been tampered with.

Due to Arin's busy schedule, they leave FMC in charge of watching over the library. They give her some rules to follow, one of which being to never open the books. But as FMC was walking around, she was hit on the head, knocking some books over. When FMC opened her eyes, she was met with some very familiar faces.

Now that Nora, Lucas, and Ezra are here, FMC and Arin have to help them blend in at the university. This leads to FMC's brilliant idea to pretend they were advertising the school's Renaissance Fair.

This entire scene had me cackling, I love this trio.

It was sad to see Arin being the one to apologize for the trio being stuck in the world, considering that it wasn't their fault in any way. They feel so much pressure to make everyone happy, and blame themself for not being able to fix everything. (My poor baby 🥺)

Arin and FMC manage to convince MMC to let the trio stay at the lighthouse without him finding out about magic. FMC tries to apologize to Arin for the books, but they tell her not to worry about it, which leads to what is possibly my favorite scene of the season!

Marrymemarrymemarryme-

After that beautiful moment (ILOVETHEMSOMUCHAHHHH), FMC and Arin do some research in the garden with the jabberwocky (am I the only one who wishes they would give it a name? I think it would be cute). While there, Ezra comes in, telling them that there is an issue with Nora.

Arin decides to let the jabberwocky stay in the garden (I'm sure that won't have any consequences later on), and the three of them go into a classroom to find Nora trying to calm a wind spell. Arin leaves suddenly, only to come back with Omar, who is revealed to be Aladdin. Again, plot points being revealed earlier in Arin's route than in others. Speaking of which, we also get hints of the memory spell earlier on.

As for the Jabberwocky, leaving it out of its pen might not have been the best option. It ends up inside of the lighthouse, attracted by the smell of the stew Nora was making. After managing to calm it down and returning it to its pen, FMC notices Jackie looking at them through the window. She comes up with a random excuse and leaves, which is not suspicious whatsoever.

The next morning, there is a gift basket on the table, and MMC drinks a small bottle of milk with "drink me" on the label and starts growing.

There is a slight possibility that he might know about the magic now.

Arin is able to get MMC back to normal, and explains everything to him. The group goes to the magic library, and Arin tells FMC that they need their help with something important. They go to their room where they reveal:

So they had to swallow a seed from one of the whitethorn trees to gain their abilities. But are they implying that the trees rotting is killing them? It could lead to some interesting conflict, but at the same time, I don't want them to be in pain. They've already been through enough.

In order to help the trees, Arin and FMC summon the woodsman, which is the third route so far that Abel has made an appearance in. And once again, it's implied that there might be a route for him with MMC in the future.

FMC and Arin go to feed the jabberwocky, only to realize that the lock has been broken, the jabberwocky was gone, and the scones from the gift basket were on the ground. Arin was able to figure out where the culprit might be, and they and FMC were shocked (somehow) that it was Jackie.

She reveals that she was trying to steal a jabberwocky for the Red Queen, and Abel recognizes her as the Knave of Hearts. Arin gets angry with her, telling her that she has to stay at the university if she doesn't want to get into more trouble with them.

FMC offers to help Arin with research, but after a small intimate interaction, Arin seems to panic and tells her not to worry about it. FMC relents but sees a letter with Arin's name on it that they missed.

Final Thoughts

I love love LOVED this season! Arin was incredible, the writing was beautiful, the plot was intriguing, and it's so exciting to see how everything plays out.

It seems like The Brothers Grimm are going to play a bigger part in the plot later on. I'm still worried about how the trees rotting might affect Arin, but now that Abel's here, things will hopefully improve.

I'm probably definitely biased when I say this, but this season was absolutely perfect, and I can't wait for season 2!

Overall Rating: 10/10

Favorite CG:

[jace-the-writer-guy]

Ciradyl Eviir

Appearance

(Her portrait from an avatar maker app)

- Vampiric drow female with long, six inch long ears that point backwards

- Long, silver hair that is slightly wavy and is parted in the middle. She has medium length bangs, and her hair reaches her thighs in length in the back

- Her eyes are black with crimson red irises

- Five feet and three inches tall, and she is fairly small in stature

- She has dark purple skin

- 38D (Imperial)/ 85D (Metric)-cup breasts

- She wears a pair of ruby earrings in the shape of orbs

Outfits

Casual (Home): She wears a simple dress of mostly deep red color with black sleeves and straps over her shoulders, and a pair of simple sandals.

Casual/Combat (Town): She wears an outfit of black and red colors with a black, light vest and skirt combination over a deep red undershirt, and she wears a pair of black travel boots. She wears a black belt around her waist with a journal held in a pouch at her left side toward the back with different potion bottles held on the right side of the belt. On the left side of her belt in front of her journal pouch

Travel/Combat: She wears a black vest over a red tunic, she wears a pair of thick black leather pants, sturdy traveling boots, black leather gloves, and she wears a black hooded cloak with a mantle of black and red fur. Along with that, she wears her belt that holds her tome, journal pouch, potion bottles, and the holster for her revolver.

Fancy: She wears a gorgeous red dress with black cuffs and straps wrapping around her neck, and the cuffs and the top edges of the dress are adorned with golden embroidery. With the dress, she wears a pair of elegant black sandals.

Bio

- She is over one thousand years old, but looks as though she's in her forties by human standards

- She is a Mistwalker vampire

- Se is originally from a drow city named Nero Vashorr 

- She is the lady of the kingdom of Sanguine along with her husband, Sylvir

- She and her husband follow and pray to Sol for protection of the sun's harmful rays on their skin due to them being both drow and vampires, and they both have found themselves worshipping Ayukoi more and more throughout their long lives.

- She is a skilled alchemist with her focus being potion making

- She bought her revolver from a wandering Mystic long ago when rear breech-loading revolvers were first invented.

- Over the centuries she has been alive, she has discovered numerous recipes for numerous types of potions, and makes a fair amount of coin selling and exporting them to merchants and apothecaries all over the world

- She also has slight skill in using magic, and a bit of useful knowledge of druidic magic

- Using her knowledge she learned from a druid she met long ago along with her skills she learned herself as an alchemist, she was able to grow trees, crops, and fruits in the land soaked in blood known as the Crimson Fields

- She has been with her husband ever since they were banished from Nero Vashorr

- She loves the taste of the fruit grown in the fields of Sanguine due to the hint of blood with the normal taste of the fruits that are grown

- Much like her husband, she hates the taste of animal blood

- She does her best to take care of any orphaned vampiric children she can while she tries to find them a good home within Sanguine.

- While she doesn't like being in the sun for too long for fear of it to potentially cause harmful and lasting effects to her body, she does enjoy it in a way and has trained her body to make it feel as though it is like very hot water on her skin, almost like a hot spring

Weapons

Mithril Twilight: A single action revolver of decent size and caliber, highly conductive of magic designed to be a focus to aid weaker magic users. The weapon is forged from black mithril and decorated with intricate, magical golden designs that glow like the twili.ght of the sunset when magic flows through the weapon, and the grip is a beautiful black and red pearl. 9The weapon amplifies the power of certain magic that is used with it, and the barrel coats the bullets fired in any element the wielder puts into the weapon. It is chambered in rounds the size of .45 Long Colt. The weapon overall is 14.75 inches long.

The engravings consist of two suns, one on the back of the loading gate and one on the opposite side of the gun, with shining waves on the cylinder over where each chamber would be and waves on each side of the barrel coming to a point at the middle of the barrel, with small waves around the tip. The engravings are a soft golden color normally, but when magic flows through the revolver, they glow and pulsate between all colors of the twilight of sunset

Abilities

Magic Ability: While she doesn't have the masterful talent over magic that sorcerers have, she knows how to use certain magics in a weaker state, which help her in her alchemy. 

Magic Amplification: Her magic also aids her in using her revolver for placing accurate shots at a distance, or firing devastating magical attacks thanks to her revolver's magic amplification properties due to it being created with mithril and enchanted to be even more magically conductive than normal.

Alchemy (Potion Making): Ciradyl has great and extensive knowledge on brewing potions, and is able to create potions of varying kinds with the right ingredients and her magical ability.

Druidic Magic: She knows a small bit of druidic magic that has helped her and Sylvir turn the Crimson Fields into the haven for vampires known as Sanguine. She can help plants and trees have a boost to their growth rate for a time and instantly grow seeds into saplings or small plants, but nothing on the scale of what a true druid can do.

Sexual Info

- Over the course of her long life, she has gained interests in many things sexually

- She loves to tease Sylvir with the tips of her fangs on his skin

- She has learned from the vampires known as "The Frail" that she can gain sustenance from essences of non-vampires other than blood

- At times when she is visiting another kingdom's capital city that is not under the influence of the Eye of Myrkur, she likes to wear nothing but her cloak when she ventures out into the city streets

- Loves to have sex in the dark, back allies of cities she visits, especially if it's with her husband or if she is grabbed by a rowdy man or two

- Loves when her husband chains her up and very, very roughly has his way with her

- She along with her husband loves to use their maids and butlers for pleasure

- More than happy to take control during sex sometimes