#cerulean flake

[kirfluffbon]

broad shouldered great blue shark lady

[raebae0001]

Where Spring Meets Winter

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader

warning: angst, fluff, the usual stuff. my bad if it seems rushed oops. not proofread :) aha

wc: 12.6k+ (oops)

a/n: anyways ive been rewatching tinker-bell and my opinion still stands that secret of the wings is the best. that inspired this, the story of clarion and milori, my heart argh, heartbroken at 8 fr

hope you enjoy, dont take this seriously i was just messing around lol, im not completely happy with it, it feels like its all over the place but oh well, i might edit it more in the future who knows. this is also very dialogue heavy in some parts, and for that i apologize in advance, but it is what it is

oh yeah suguru and shoko make an appearance, not much though

As the sun dips below the horizon, casting hues of pink and lavender across the sky, the fairies of Pixie Hollow retreat to their homes. Laughter and chatter soften into the night’s embrace, and soon, the warm glow of their lights fades, leaving the tranquil sound of rustling leaves in the warm-season woods.

You, however, have no intention of resting.

Rumors of a beast—something monstrous lurking at the border where spring meets winter—have been swirling for days, growing with each retelling. And while your advisors have urged caution, you can’t ignore the pull in your heart. You are meant to protect your people, and proving yourself before your coronation feels paramount. But beneath your sense of duty, there’s another reason drawing you to the border. A curiosity. A longing for something more.

The Winter Woods have always intrigued you.

As the warm-season fairies sleep, you flutter silently through the woods, careful to avoid the watchful eyes of any lingering fairies. The moon casts a soft, silvery light on the landscape, illuminating your path. The soft hum of night insects fades as you near the log bridge—the only thing connecting the two worlds. Your heart quickens as you reach the edge of the border, where spring kisses winter.

The view before you is breathtaking. The snow-covered landscape of the Winter Woods shimmers under the moonlight, each flake reflecting the light like tiny diamonds. The trees, their branches heavy with frost, stand like statues in the stillness. Everything about the scene is cold, yet serene—almost magical.

Your breath hitches as you stare, captivated by the beauty that lies just beyond your reach. You flutter closer to the log bridge, your wings trembling with anticipation. The temptation to step into the snow, to feel the coolness against your skin, overwhelms you. Just one touch, you think. Just to know what it’s like to feel the cold.

Slowly, you descend, your feet landing softly on the log. Your heart thuds in your chest, caught between excitement and caution. But just as you inch closer to the line where spring and winter meet, a soft rustle breaks through the silence.

Your instincts flare to life, your body tensing. The beast.

You quickly withdraw your hand, scanning the trees and snow-laden bushes. The night is quiet, but the rustling continues, coming from a cluster of frost-covered bushes just a few paces ahead.

You narrow your eyes, trying to pierce the shadows beyond the snow. There—movement. You catch sight of a tuft of white amidst the bushes, and your heart leaps into your throat.

“What goes there?” you call out, your voice steady despite the wariness tightening your chest. The breeze carries your words across the quiet divide, but there is no immediate answer. Only more movement.

The figure steps out from behind the bushes, brushing off the snow from his shoulders. He stands tall—taller than any fairy you have ever seen—and he moves with a grace that suggests no threat. His snow-white hair glows under the moonlight, and his cerulean blue eyes sparkle like the frozen lakes in the depths of winter.

He raises his hands in a gesture of peace, sensing your readiness to pounce. “Easy now,” he says, his voice smooth, almost teasing. “I’m not your beast.”

You hesitate, lowering yourself from your defensive stance as you realize this is no monster. He’s a fairy, like you—though not at all like you. His wings are sharp, crystalline, catching the light with every slight movement. Everything about him is cold and regal, a stark contrast to the warmth you embody.

“Who are you?” you demand, still keeping your distance, though your curiosity flares at the sight of him.

The winter fairy chuckles softly, running a hand through his snow-dusted hair. “Lord Gojo Satoru,” he replies, bowing with exaggerated flair. “Guardian of the Winter Woods. And you, little spring blossom, are far from where you should be.”

Your eyes narrow at his casual tone. “I am no ordinary fairy,” you shoot back, your pride flaring. “I am Princess [Name] of the warm seasons, and I’ve come here to face the threat that lurks at the border.”

His eyebrow arches in amusement. “A princess? How charming.” He folds his arms, clearly unperturbed by your title. “But I assure you, there’s no threat here. You’re the first warm fairy I’ve seen in ages.”

You feel a flush rise to your cheeks, though you aren’t sure if it’s from embarrassment or frustration. “Then what are you doing lurking near the border, Lord Gojo?”

He grins, a mischievous glint in his cerulean eyes. “I could ask you the same thing, Princess. Shouldn’t you be preparing for a coronation rather than hunting imaginary beasts?”

You blink in surprise. How did he know about your coronation?

“I’ve heard things,” he says, as if reading your thoughts. “Word travels, even in the frozen north.”

Your shoulders stiffen. “I’m not here for pleasantries. If there’s no threat, then I’ll leave.”

But as you turn to go, you feel a pull—a deep, unexplainable longing to stay. Something about this winter fairy intrigues you. His playful manner, his easy confidence—it’s so unlike the fairies of your court, where everything is formal and measured.

“I wouldn’t be so quick to leave,” Satoru calls out, his tone softening. “The border is more interesting than it appears.”

You pause, glancing over your shoulder. “What do you mean?”

He steps closer, but still keeps his distance, his gaze drifting to the log bridge between your worlds. “There’s more than snow and frost beyond the border, you know. Just as there’s more to you than what your court sees.”

Your heart skips a beat at his words. It’s as if he can see right through you, past the title and the duties that weigh on your shoulders.

A silence settles between you, the crisp winter air mingling with the gentle warmth of spring. It’s strange how comfortable you feel in his presence, how natural it seems to stand at the edge of two worlds with him.

“Why do you stay so close to the border?” you ask, your curiosity finally getting the better of you.

Satoru smiles, his eyes softening. “Because sometimes... I wonder what it’s like on the other side.”

Your breath catches in your throat. You understand that feeling all too well.

________________________

Satoru made his way to the border, the crisp, cold air of the Winter Woods biting at his skin, though he barely noticed it anymore. Nights like this, when sleep eluded him, he often found himself wandering near the edge of his world. The border was the closest he could get to feeling something different—to catching a glimpse of the warmth he longed for, the seasons of sun and bloom that only existed on the other side. The icy chill of winter was all he had ever known, but he had dreamed of the warmth of spring, summer, and fall since he was young.

As he approached the boundary where frost met the thaw, he slowed his pace. The faint sound of trickling water from a melting patch of snow reached his ears. The border was always quiet, still, like the two seasons had come to a delicate truce here. And yet, tonight, something was different. A soft shimmer caught his eye—a glimmer in the moonlight.

Fairy dust.

He paused, heart quickening with curiosity and something else—something deeper that pulled at him. His sharp, crystalline wings fluttered lightly as he inched closer, his breath catching in his throat as he spotted her. A fairy. But not like any fairy he had ever seen.

She stood at the edge of the log bridge, where the warmth of spring kissed the cold breath of winter. Her long brown hair cascaded down her back, flowing in soft waves that shimmered in the pale light. She wore a gown the color of sunshine—golden, radiant, and fluttering lightly in the cool breeze. The fabric swirled around her like the very embodiment of light, glowing against the backdrop of snow and ice. She was mesmerizing, a vision of warmth and life, a stark contrast to the cold, stillness of his world.

Satoru’s breath hitched in his chest. He had never seen anyone so beautiful.

Instinctively, he ducked behind a snow-covered bush, his sharp wings folding against his back as he watched her from a distance. He felt a strange mixture of awe and longing. Her presence, the way she stood there gazing across the border, seemed otherworldly to him. She belonged to the seasons of warmth and growth—worlds he had only ever dreamed of. And yet, here she was, so close to the winter’s edge.

Her eyes, wide and filled with curiosity, scanned the Winter Woods, and for a moment, he wondered if she could sense him, sense his gaze on her. Her gaze lingered on the snow-laden landscape, and Satoru held his breath as her eyes seemed to search for something beyond the frost, beyond the cold, towards him.

What was she doing here? Why had she come so close to the border? He could see the faint trembling of her wings, as if she was holding back, resisting the temptation to cross into the cold of his world. The moonlight illuminated her features—her delicate face framed by her flowing hair, her eyes gleaming with a mix of caution and wonder.

Satoru found himself captivated not only by her beauty but by the way she looked at the Winter Woods, with a sense of wonder that mirrored his own feelings about the world on the other side of the border. She seemed drawn to the winter, just as he was drawn to the warmth of the sun.

Without thinking, he shifted in the snow, causing a soft rustling sound. Her eyes snapped toward the noise, her body tensing. For a moment, he froze, unsure of what to do. Should he reveal himself? Should he stay hidden? He had never been so close to a fairy from the warm seasons before, and now that he was, the sight of her had rendered him speechless.

His heart pounded as he watched her search the darkness for him, her wings fluttering softly as she narrowed her eyes. For a moment, he wondered if she would see him, if she would discover him hiding among the snow-covered bushes. And yet, part of him wanted her to find him, wanted her to know he was there.

He couldn’t help but admire her courage—standing at the edge of the border, so close to a world that wasn’t hers, drawn by something just as he was.

_______________________

Though reluctant, you decide to stay a little longer, feeling an inexplicable pull toward the mysterious Lord Gojo. His presence is unlike anything you’ve encountered before. You’ve heard of the Winter Woods’ legendary guardian, but you never expected him to be so young—or so intriguing, with an air of quiet confidence that seems to draw you in.

Satoru makes his way to the border, his steps soft and deliberate, until he reaches the line where snow meets the thawed earth of your world. Without saying a word, he sits down, remaining just on his side of the boundary, the frost glistening at his feet. His eyes find yours, and though he doesn’t speak, there’s an unspoken invitation in his gaze.

After a moment’s hesitation, you flutter down and sit beside him, keeping to your side of the line where the ground is warm. The two of you sit inches apart, yet it feels as though you’re worlds away—divided not just by snow and earth, but by the vast contrast between winter and warmth.

For a while, neither of you say anything, content to sit in the moonlit stillness. The only sound is the soft rustling of the wind through the trees and the occasional creak of frost settling in the Winter Woods. You can feel Satoru’s presence beside you, quiet and steady, yet somehow comforting.

Eventually, Satoru breaks the silence. “What’s it like, beyond the warmth?” he asks, his voice soft, yet filled with curiosity as his gaze stays trained on the moon.

You glance at him, slightly taken aback by the question. His profile is illuminated by the moonlight, his white hair shimmering under its glow. His sharp features and crystal-blue eyes are strikingly beautiful in the soft light, and for a moment, you find yourself distracted by him.

It’s only when he turns to look at you that you realize you’ve been staring. Your breath catches, and you quickly avert your gaze, heat rising to your cheeks. His soft chuckle doesn’t help, and you clear your throat, trying to recover your composure.

“It’s... different,” you begin, your voice a little unsteady at first. “The warmth, I mean.” You pause for a moment, wondering how best to describe the lands beyond the Winter Woods. Everyone knows of the four lands—one for each season. But the experiences, the feelings, the colors—that’s where the true difference lies.

“In Spring Hollow,” you say, your voice softening, “it’s always spring. The world is in constant bloom. Flowers of every color stretch across the fields and forests, and the air is sweet with their fragrance. Everything feels fresh and alive, as though the earth is awakening each day. The colors are vibrant—pinks, greens, yellows, every shade you can imagine.”

Satoru listens quietly, his cerulean eyes watching you with keen interest. “Are there butterflies?” he asks, his voice laced with curiosity. “We don’t have any here. It’s too cold for them.”

You smile gently, remembering the delicate wings fluttering through the air. “Yes, there are so many butterflies. They flit through the flowers like little jewels, their wings shimmering in the sunlight. It’s hard to imagine spring without them. They’re part of the magic—everything is alive, from the smallest flower to the tiniest insect.”

Satoru seems to absorb your words, his gaze distant as if trying to imagine a world where creatures as delicate as butterflies can thrive. “That sounds... enchanting,” he murmurs, almost to himself.

“It is,” you agree softly. “In Spring Hollow, everything feels like it’s just beginning. There’s a kind of lightness to it, a sense of endless possibilities.”

Satoru nods thoughtfully but doesn’t speak. His curiosity remains, though, and after a moment, he asks, “What about summer? What’s it like in the Summer Glade?”

You take a breath, thinking of the endless golden days of the Summer Glade. “It’s always hot there, always bright. The sun hangs high in the sky from dawn until dusk, and the warmth fills the air. Everything is alive and buzzing—birds, insects, animals. The colors are bold—deep reds, vibrant yellows, intense oranges. It’s... intense, in every sense of the word.”

He looks back at you, intrigued. “So it’s always hot? Never cool, even at night?”

You smile. “Even at night, it stays warm. The stars seem closer, and the air smells of blossoms. The nights are filled with the hum of insects and the songs of summer birds. It’s as if the whole world is wide awake, all the time.”

Satoru’s eyes narrow slightly in thought, his gaze still locked on you. “That sounds... overwhelming.”

You laugh softly. “It can be. Summer is full of energy, and it never rests. But there’s beauty in that too—in the brightness, the vitality.”

He stays quiet for a moment, processing your words, before he asks, “And autumn? What’s it like in the Autumn Wood?”

You close your eyes for a moment, remembering the Autumn Wood. “It’s like a slow, never-ending sunset,” you say softly. “The leaves are always falling, but the trees never go bare. The colors—deep oranges, reds, golds—they fill the landscape. The air is cool and crisp, and everything feels calm, like the world is preparing to sleep. There’s a comfort in it, a sense that everything is slowing down, but in a peaceful way.”

Satoru remains quiet for a moment, as if absorbing the images you’ve painted with your words. His gaze is distant, thoughtful.

“And you,” he begins after a pause, “you’ve lived with the warmth all your life?”

You nod. “Yes. The warmth has always been my home. I’ve known the colors, the life, the energy that comes with the lands of Spring, Summer, and Autumn.”

He turns to look at you, his gaze steady. “But... you’ve always wanted to feel the cold, haven’t you?”

You blink, startled by how accurately he’s read your thoughts. You lower your gaze, looking at the thin line of snow that separates your world from his. “Yes,” you admit quietly. “I’ve always dreamed of the frost, of the snow... something I’ve never known.”

The silence that follows is thick with understanding. Satoru’s eyes linger on you, his expression softening as he studies your face, as if seeing the longing there that you’ve never spoken aloud.

“What about you?” you ask, leaning slightly closer, your eyes sparkling with curiosity. “What’s winter like? The cold, the Winter Woods… the animals?” Your heart races at the thought of discovering more about the world you’ve only dreamed of, and you can’t help but feel a sense of excitement bubble up inside you.

As Satoru looks at you, he can’t help but notice the genuine intrigue lighting up your features. Your eagerness is palpable, and it draws him in, making him want to share everything about his world. It strikes him then how much you both are alike. You’re two fairies separated by seasons but united by a shared longing to explore the unknown. He senses the whispers of danger that surround both your worlds—caution that urges you to stay safe within your borders. Yet here you are, willing to risk it all for just a glimpse into the other side.

“Winter...” Satoru begins, his voice animated and warm, “is beautiful in its own way. The snow blankets everything, transforming the landscape into something ethereal. It’s a world where silence reigns, broken only by the soft crunch of snow underfoot.” He leans back slightly, relishing the chance to share his beloved Winter Woods with you. “The trees stand tall and bare, their branches heavy with frost. Everything glistens under the moonlight, and during the day, the sun bounces off the snow, creating a million tiny rainbows. The air is crisp and biting, and when it snows, it feels as though the world is wrapped in a soft, white quilt.”

You lean in closer, completely captivated by his enthusiasm. “That sounds so magical,” you breathe, picturing the stunning winter landscape in your mind. “And what about the animals?”

Satoru’s smile widens, his eyes glimmering with excitement. “We have so many fascinating creatures! The snow owls glide silently through the trees. They’re magnificent, with wide wings and piercing golden eyes that seem to see right through the darkness. They’re often our companions on the coldest nights.”

You feel a shiver of delight at the thought. “What else? What do you and the other winter fairies do?”

His expression brightens even more. “We create beauty from the cold. We work together to sculpt intricate designs from the ice, turning the frozen landscape into an art form. Each winter, we host contests to see who can create the most stunning ice sculpture. We build towering castles that sparkle like jewels under the moonlight, and sometimes we carve out entire scenes from folklore, bringing our stories to life.”

You watch him intently, hanging onto his every word. “That sounds amazing and so much fun!” A thought lingers in your mind, stirring curiosity. Just then, a leaf drifts gracefully down from a nearby branch, carried by the wind. It twirls through the air, its vibrant colors standing out against the stark white of the winter woods before landing softly in the cold snow beyond the border. You can’t help but feel a pang of longing as you watch it disappear into the depths of Satoru’s world. “But how do you preserve life in such a harsh environment? Is there a way for you to keep the plants thriving despite the cold?”

A spark of pride ignites in his gaze as he explains, “We blanket the plants with soft ice, preserving their life through the cold. It’s like giving them a gentle hug to keep them warm until spring returns. It’s a way of ensuring that when the thaw comes, everything bursts forth in beauty once more.”

Your heart swells at his words, and you can’t help but admire the depth of his connection to his world. “So, winter isn’t just about the cold. It’s about creating and protecting life?”

“Exactly,” he replies, nodding enthusiastically. “We are guardians of this season. There’s a harmony in the cold—an understanding that even in the starkness, life continues. Our role is to ensure that beauty thrives beneath the snow. And sometimes, when the northern lights dance across the sky, it feels like the entire world is alive with magic.”

As he speaks, you can see the passion emanating from him, and it fills you with warmth. The way he talks about winter reflects not just his love for his home, but also a deep appreciation for the delicate balance of life and nature.

You feel a connection bloom between you—two fairies sharing their worlds, their dreams, and their hopes. “Maybe we aren’t so different after all,” you say softly, your voice filled with understanding. “Both longing for the other side, yet so intrigued by what lies beyond our reach.”

He nods, a soft smile gracing his lips. “Exactly. That’s why this border is so special. It’s a place where we can share our stories, our dreams, and maybe even bridge the gap between our worlds.”

In that moment, with the moonlight illuminating your shared space, you realize that both of you are bound by an unspoken promise: to continue exploring the unknown, together.

___________

As you stroll back to your home nestled in the heart of Pixie Hollow, surrounded by the warm, familiar glow of the Pixie Dust Tree, a sense of wonder envelops you. The air is rich with the sweet scent of blooming flowers and the gentle rustle of leaves whispers soft secrets as the night deepens. With each fluttering step, you replay the evening’s enchanting moments in your mind, like a cherished melody playing on repeat.

Satoru's laughter, vibrant and light, echoes in your ears, mingling with the magical stories he shared about the Winter Woods. You can still picture the way his cerulean eyes sparkled as he spoke, the warmth in his voice bringing the cold, frosted landscape to life in your imagination. The thought of snow owls gliding through moonlit skies and winter fairies sculpting ice into delicate art makes your heart flutter with excitement.

You can’t help but smile as you recall the way he looked at you, his expression a mix of curiosity and delight, as if he found joy in sharing his world with you. His passion for the winter realm resonated within you, awakening a longing to experience the beauty he described firsthand.

As you pass under the shimmering lights that adorn your beloved tree, you feel a warm glow within, fueled by the promise of your next encounter. Each step feels lighter, the cool night air filled with the thrill of anticipation. You can hardly wait for the sun to set again, for the moment when you’ll return to that magical border where your two worlds meet.

Your heart races at the thought of venturing back to the edge of the Winter Woods, where frost dances on the branches and a sense of wonder awaits. The excitement of meeting Satoru again, of hearing more stories and sharing your own, fills you with a deep sense of hope. Tonight’s memories are not just fleeting moments; they are the beginning of something extraordinary, a connection that transcends the boundaries of your two realms. And as you reach your home, the anticipation of the next sunset wraps around you like a warm embrace, reminding you that magic lies just beyond the horizon, waiting to unfold.

__________________________

As the sun rose high over Pixie Hollow, its warm golden rays filtered through the vibrant leaves of the pixie dust tree. The gentle hum of the warm-season fairies filled the air as they flitted about, tending to their daily tasks. You fluttered among them, your heart still aglow with the memory of last night's encounter with Satoru. His stories about the Winter Woods echoed in your mind, igniting a sense of wonder you hadn’t felt in ages.

“[Name], are you even listening?” came the teasing voice of Shoko Ieri, your dearest friend and the resident healer. Her brow was furrowed, concern etched across her face as she noticed your distracted demeanor.

You shook your head slightly, forcing yourself to focus on the task at hand. “Of course, I am! Just… busy thinking about the preparations for my coronation,” you replied, trying to keep your tone light.

Shoko raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “You’ve been so… smiley today. Are you sure there’s nothing else on your mind? You usually don’t daydream about the coronation this much.”

A soft laugh escaped your lips, a bit more nervous than you intended. “It’s just that I want everything to be perfect for the ceremony! You know how important this is for our people.”

She studied you for a moment, her cerulean eyes searching for the truth beneath your words. “Alright, if you say so,” she finally conceded, but you could tell she remained skeptical. “Just remember, if you need to talk about anything, I’m here for you. You know that, right?”

“Of course! You’re the best,” you said, giving her a reassuring smile as you continued to work, helping other fairies polish the decorations for the coronation.

But as the day wore on, you found your thoughts drifting back to the Winter Woods and Satoru’s enchanting stories of snow-covered landscapes and ice sculptures. Every glance at the sunny blooms around you reminded you of the cold touch of winter and the excitement that surged within you at the thought of seeing him again.

While assisting a group of fairies in gathering vibrant flowers for the decorations, your mind wandered further. You pictured Satoru’s playful grin, the way his cerulean eyes sparkled under the moonlight. You couldn’t help but feel a flutter of anticipation in your stomach at the prospect of sneaking away to meet him again. Would he have more stories to share? Would he show you more of his world beyond the border?

“[Name]! Earth to [Name]!” Shoko’s voice broke through your reverie, and you turned to find her chuckling at your absentmindedness. “If you keep daydreaming, you’ll miss your chance to gather the finest petals for your own crown! Come on, focus!”

You nodded, shaking off the thoughts of Satoru for a moment. “Right, right! I’m on it.” You dove back into the task at hand, but the excitement bubbling within you made it nearly impossible to concentrate fully.

As the sun began to dip lower in the sky, you glanced at Shoko again. “You know,” you said, unable to hold back, “I’m really looking forward to the coronation. It feels like a new beginning.”

She tilted her head, her expression softening. “I can see that. Just promise me you’ll be careful, okay? Change can be exciting, but it can also bring unexpected challenges.”

“Don’t worry, I will,” you assured her, but your mind was already racing ahead to the evening. With every passing moment, the anticipation of meeting Satoru again grew stronger. You could hardly wait for sundown, when you’d steal away to the border once more, the thrill of the unknown calling to you like a siren’s song.

As the shadows grew longer, you felt a pull in your heart—a blend of exhilaration and nervousness. The sun would set soon, and with it, the chance to explore a world that had captured your imagination. You smiled to yourself, ready to embrace whatever magic awaited you on the other side of the border.

________________________

Satoru Gojo stood at the edge of a snowy cliff overlooking the winter woods, the chill of the air nipping at his cheeks, yet his mind was far from the snow-laden branches and shimmering frost. Instead, his thoughts danced around the image of a warm fairy princess he had met the night before, her laughter lingering like music in his ears. Every detail of that enchanting encounter replayed in his mind—the way her yellow gown fluttered in the evening breeze, how her eyes sparkled with curiosity and warmth, and the genuine excitement that radiated from her as she spoke. It was a stark contrast to the icy realm he ruled.

He was so lost in this reverie that he barely noticed Suguru Geto, his closest friend and fellow winter fairy, standing beside him, arms crossed and brow raised in a mixture of amusement and concern. “Satoru,” Suguru called, breaking through the fog of his daydream. “You’ve been staring off into the distance for a solid minute. Are you plotting a new way to freeze the entire forest again, or is your mind somewhere else entirely?”

Startled back to reality, Satoru shook his head, a sheepish grin creeping across his face. “What? Me? I’m just… appreciating the view.”

“Right,” Suguru replied, skepticism dripping from his voice. “And I suppose that’s why you’ve barely lifted a finger to help the others with the ice sculptures today? I’ve seen glaciers move faster than you.”

Satoru waved a dismissive hand, though he couldn’t suppress the smile that crept onto his lips. “I’m fine, really! Just… had a long night.”

“Long night, huh?” Suguru arched an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Is that what you’re calling it these days? Because it looks more like you’ve been hit by a heatwave.”

With a playful roll of his eyes, Satoru turned back to the tasks at hand, joining the other winter fairies who were busy crafting intricate ice sculptures from the frozen streams. Yet, even as he helped shape the sparkling ice, his thoughts kept drifting back to her—the warm fairy princess whose name he had only just begun to learn.

Suguru, ever perceptive, caught on to his distraction again. With a swift and playful smack to the back of Satoru’s head, he brought him back to the present. “Hey! Focus!”

“Ow! What was that for?” Satoru whined, rubbing the back of his head and shooting a glare at Suguru, though the grin on his face betrayed his annoyance.

“What’s up with you today?” Suguru asked, his tone light but probing. “You’re like a snowflake caught in the wind, going everywhere but where you need to be. Spill it, Gojo.”

With a reluctant chuckle, Satoru decided to give in. “Fine, fine. You caught me. I met someone last night.”

“Someone? Do tell!” Suguru leaned in, curiosity lighting up his eyes.

Satoru’s heart quickened as he recalled every detail about the princess. “She’s a warm fairy—a princess, actually. Her name is [Name]. She’s… incredible. So bright and full of life, like the sun itself. We talked for hours, and she’s just… so different from anyone I’ve ever met.”

Suguru’s expression shifted from intrigue to concern. “Wait, you know how dangerous it is to linger near the border, Satoru. Crossing into the warmth? That could be trouble. What if something happened to you?”

“I know, I know,” Satoru replied, brushing aside the warnings. “But it was so easy to talk to her. She’s genuinely curious about our world. You should have seen her eyes light up when I talked about the snow owls and how we preserve life in the Winter Woods. And she has such fascinating stories about her home—how the flowers bloom all year round and butterflies flutter in a riot of colors. Can you imagine that? She described the vibrant colors of autumn that paint the trees in shades of amber and gold, and I felt as though I could almost see it myself.”

Suguru sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. “Just be careful. I can see how happy you are, but you know the rules for a reason. The warmth can be alluring, but it can also lead to danger.”

Satoru nodded, though a part of him wanted to push the worries away. “I promise I’ll be careful. But there’s something about her… something that draws me in. It feels right.”

Suguru studied him for a moment, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I just don’t want you to get hurt, Satoru. You’re my best friend, and seeing you happy is important to me. Just remember that the warmth has its own dangers, even if it feels like magic.”

“I will, I will,” Satoru assured him, a newfound resolve building within him. “But I’m excited to see her again. We’re meeting at sunset tonight. I can’t wait to share more about my world with her.”

“Just don’t get too carried away, alright?” Suguru replied, his tone lightening. “We need you here to keep the ice sculptures from melting.”

With a grin, Satoru replied, “Don’t worry. I’ll be back in time to freeze the lake, just for you.”

As they continued their duties, Satoru felt a sense of anticipation swelling within him. Perhaps there was something more to explore, a connection waiting just beyond the border that would open doors he had never thought possible. And as he shared laughter with Suguru, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was only the beginning of a new adventure—one that might just thaw the icy boundaries between their worlds.

____________________

As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in brilliant shades of orange and purple, Satoru Gojo felt a flutter of excitement within him. The vibrant colors seemed to echo his anticipation as he took to the sky, his crystalline wings catching the last rays of light. The cool air rushed past him, invigorating and alive, as he soared towards the border—the sacred line where winter met warmth, his heart racing with eagerness.

As he flew, Satoru admired the beauty of the Winter Woods below. The snow-laden trees sparkled like diamonds under the fading sunlight, and he could see the wisps of icy fog curling up from the ground. This was his realm, the world of frost and quiet, but it felt incomplete without the warmth of the spring fairy he had met just the night before.

Reaching the edge of the border, he settled down on the log at their special meeting spot, his heart full of hope. He leaned back against the cool, smooth bark, feeling a familiar sense of peace wash over him. The divide between their worlds was palpable; on one side, the serene white landscape of winter, and on the other, the warm hues of autumn and the vibrant energy that always seemed to accompany [Name].

As he waited, he allowed his thoughts to drift, reminiscing about her laughter, her bright smile, and the way her wings shimmered like sunlight on water. The image of her—full of life and curiosity—was imprinted in his mind, stirring feelings he hadn’t expected to experience.

Just then, a familiar glimmer caught his eye, and his heart leapt. Emerging from the foliage, [Name] appeared, her wings flapping gently as she glided gracefully toward him. Her gown—a soft yellow that seemed to capture the very essence of sunlight—flowed elegantly around her, and as she drew closer, Satoru’s breath caught in his throat. The way her long brown hair danced in the wind and how her eyes sparkled with joy made her look even more enchanting than he remembered.

“You’re here!” she exclaimed, her voice bright and melodious, carrying the warmth of a summer day.

“Of course,” Satoru replied, a wide grin spreading across his face. “We promised, didn’t we?”

As she landed next to him, the world seemed to brighten, the air thick with the palpable energy of their connection. [Name]’s smile illuminated the gathering dusk, and the sight of her brought a warmth to Satoru’s heart that even the coldest winter couldn’t extinguish.

“You’re always punctual, Lord Gojo,” she teased lightly, settling beside him on the log.

“Please, just call me Satoru,” he said, the playful glint in his cerulean eyes matching the light in hers. “I’m not one for titles, especially not when I’m sitting next to such a lovely spring blossom.”

Her cheeks flushed, a soft pink tinting her fair skin. “Alright, Satoru. And you can call me [Name], then,” she replied, her smile widening.

They shared a moment of laughter, the sound mingling with the gentle rustling of the leaves and the whispers of the wind. In that exchange, the boundaries of their worlds felt less imposing, less daunting, as if they were just two friends enjoying a night beneath the stars.

“What did you think about today?” Satoru asked, leaning closer, curiosity shimmering in his gaze. “Did you come prepared with tales of your world?”

[Name] beamed, her eyes lighting up. “I couldn’t wait to tell you more about it. You should see the vibrant fields of flowers in spring, how they stretch for miles. The spring fairies have this beautiful tradition of dancing among them, bringing the blooms to life each day with their laughter.”

“Dancing? That sounds enchanting,” Satoru said, captivated. He imagined the sight vividly, fairies twirling amidst waves of color, laughter ringing through the air. “What about friends? Do you have anyone special you hangout with?”

[Name]’s eyes sparkled with delight as she leaned in closer, eager to share her stories. “Mhmm! There’s Shoko, my best friend. She’s a healer and knows everything there is to know about plants and potions. Her knowledge is incredible! Just the other day, she helped a sick flower bloom again with her remedies. It was a sight to behold!”

Satoru grinned, envisioning the scene. “A healer? Sounds like someone you can always count on when you need help.”

“Oh, for sure!” [Name] nodded enthusiastically. “She’s always there for me, whether it’s helping me prepare for my coronation or simply listening to my thoughts. I don’t know what I’d do without her.” A soft smile touched her lips, warmth evident in her voice as she spoke about her friend.

“What about you?” she asked, turning the conversation toward him. “What about your friends in the Winter Woods?”

Satoru chuckled lightly, scratching the back of his head in thought. “Well, I have Suguru, my longest friend. He’s the serious type, always keeping me grounded,” he said, a fond smile creeping onto his face. “He’s the only one who can smack me out of my daydreams, believe me. But he’s also fiercely loyal. I can always count on him to have my back, even when I’m being... well, me.”

“Oh?” [Name] raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “What’s it like having a friend who keeps you in line?”

“It’s a little annoying, to be honest,” he admitted, laughing. “But I wouldn’t trade it for anything. He pushes me to be better, to focus on my responsibilities. Just the other day, we were out gathering supplies for the winter festivities, and I was completely distracted, thinking about—well, you know—everything,” he confessed, a hint of shyness coloring his cheeks.

“What were you thinking about?” [Name] asked, leaning in closer, her curiosity piqued.

“Uh, well… you,” Satoru said, a bit sheepishly. “I mean, I just met you, and you’ve already made such an impression on me. It’s hard not to think about someone so bright and lively. Anyway, Suguru caught me daydreaming and smacked the back of my head to bring me back to reality.”

She burst out laughing, her melodious giggles ringing through the air. “Oh no! That sounds painful! But I get it. You’ve made quite the impression on me too.”

Satoru felt warmth spread through him at her words, an unexpected joy flooding his heart. “You really think so?”

“Definitely! Your stories about the Winter Woods and the snow owls—everything you do to keep your world alive—it’s all amazing!” [Name] exclaimed, her enthusiasm infectious. “I love hearing about your life. It’s so different from mine.”

Satoru smiled, his heart swelling with pride. “Well, speaking of stories, there was this one time Suguru and I decided to explore deeper into the woods. We ended up getting caught in a snowstorm!” He chuckled, shaking his head at the memory. “I thought we were going to freeze to death! But we built a little snow shelter and waited it out. Suguru kept grumbling about my recklessness while I just sat there, enjoying the snowflakes.”

“Did you have fun despite the storm?” [Name] asked, her eyes wide with intrigue.

“Surprisingly, yes! Watching the snow fall around us was like being in a dream. Plus, the snowball fights we had afterward were legendary! Suguru never stood a chance against my expert aim.” He winked, his confidence shining through.

“You’re quite the adventurer, aren’t you?” she teased, her voice light. “I can’t imagine what a snowball fight looks like with winter fairies. It must be epic!”

“Only the best!” he said proudly. “But it’s nothing compared to your dancing among the flowers. I’d love to see that one day. I bet it’s a sight to behold.”

The moon began to rise, casting a silvery glow around them, but neither of them noticed the time slipping away as they lost themselves in their shared tales, eagerly looking forward to the next chapter of their friendship.

As the days turned into weeks, the sun and moon danced across the sky, marking the passage of time in Pixie Hollow and the Winter Woods. Each evening, as the sun dipped low and painted the horizon with hues of amber and lavender, [Name] and Satoru found themselves drawn to the border once more. The log bridge, once just a crossing point between two worlds, transformed into a sacred space where their connection deepened with each meeting.

Satoru cherished the moments spent beside [Name], his heart fluttering at the sight of her as she flitted gracefully through the air, her wings sparkling like sunlight on water. He’d wait at their spot, excitement bubbling within him, anticipation igniting his spirit. And as she appeared, her radiant smile would light up the night, washing away the chill that lingered in the air.

They talked about everything and nothing, sharing their hopes, dreams, and secrets under the vast tapestry of stars. [Name] would tell Satoru about the vibrant flowers in her land, painting vivid pictures of sprawling meadows filled with blossoms that danced with the breeze. Satoru listened intently, his heart swelling with admiration, fascinated by how deeply she cared for her world and those in it.

Conversely, [Name] found herself enchanted by Satoru’s tales of winter. He painted a portrait of a world blanketed in white, where icicles hung like chandeliers from branches, and the air was filled with the soft hooting of snow owls. She could almost feel the cold air brushing against her cheeks as he spoke, the magic of his words transporting her to his frozen realm.

But it wasn’t just the stories that captivated them; it was the connection that bloomed between them—a bond forged in laughter, curiosity, and unspoken understanding. The more they met, the more they revealed their true selves. Satoru admired [Name]’s strength and determination, her ability to remain steadfast even when faced with the burdens of her responsibilities as a princess. He saw how fiercely she cared for her people, her laughter a breath of fresh air that brightened the somber winter nights.

In return, [Name] admired Satoru’s playful spirit and unwavering confidence. He had a way of making the world feel lighter, as if the burdens they both carried could be shared through their friendship. She found herself looking forward to his laughter, the warmth of his presence enveloping her like a comforting blanket. He had a knack for turning mundane moments into magical ones, filling her nights with joy and excitement.

As time wove its intricate tapestry, they began to notice subtle changes within themselves. The laughter shared transformed into something deeper, a current of unspoken feelings flowing between them. Satoru would find himself stealing glances at [Name], his heart racing whenever their eyes met. The way her laughter echoed in the night air resonated within him, a melody he could never forget.

Meanwhile, [Name] felt a flutter in her chest that she couldn’t quite explain. It was more than friendship; it was a warmth that spread through her, igniting a longing to be closer, to know Satoru in ways that transcended mere conversation. She found herself daydreaming about their next meeting, her heart racing at the thought of sharing yet another night beneath the stars.

One evening, as they sat together at the border, the air thick with anticipation, Satoru brushed a stray lock of hair from [Name]’s face, his fingers lingering just a moment longer than necessary. The contact sent a jolt of electricity through her, her breath catching in her throat. She looked up, her heart pounding as she met his gaze. The moment stretched between them, a fragile silence filled with unspoken words, each one swirling with possibility.

“I…” Satoru began, his voice soft but earnest. But before he could finish, the moment was interrupted by the sudden sound of a distant hoot, pulling them back to reality. They exchanged shy smiles, but both knew that the atmosphere had shifted. Something had changed between them, and they could no longer ignore the feelings brewing just beneath the surface.

As the nights continued to unfold, they began to embrace these feelings, dancing around the truth like fireflies in the summer dusk. [Name] would catch herself stealing glances at Satoru, her heart racing as he animatedly recounted tales of winter adventures, the way his blue eyes sparkled with passion making her stomach flutter. Satoru, too, would often find himself lost in thought, imagining what it would be like to hold her hand, to feel her warmth against him, to share not just their worlds but their hearts.

Each night they spent together was a delicate dance of friendship and burgeoning affection. They would talk about their dreams, their fears, and their futures, always staying just shy of crossing that invisible line. They were bound by the knowledge of the dangers that lurked beyond their worlds—the whispers of disapproval from their respective realms, the looming responsibilities that awaited them. Yet, in those moments by the border, they carved out a sanctuary where the outside world faded away.

Then came a night when the stars shone brighter than ever, their light reflecting off the snow, creating a breathtakingly beautiful scene. [Name] watched in awe, her eyes wide with wonder, as Satoru caught a snowflake on his outstretched palm. “See?” he grinned, turning to her. “Winter is magical, isn’t it?”

“It truly is,” she agreed, her heart swelling with admiration for him. The snowflakes twinkled in the moonlight, casting a soft glow around them. It was as if the universe itself conspired to create a perfect moment for them.

As they continued to sit side by side, the air was thick with unvoiced emotions. [Name] turned to Satoru, her heart pounding in her chest, and the words that had been dancing on the tip of her tongue finally tumbled forth. “Satoru, I—”

But he interrupted, his voice gentle and sincere. “I know, [Name]. I feel it too.” His blue eyes searched hers, holding a depth of understanding that made her breath hitch. “It’s more than just friendship, isn’t it?”

Her heart raced as she nodded, feeling the weight of their shared emotions settle between them. The air crackled with energy, the world around them fading as they leaned closer, caught in the magnetic pull of one another. In that moment, they both realized that what they felt was undeniable—a beautiful intertwining of two hearts longing to bridge the gap between their worlds.

Yet, as they sat there, a hush enveloping them, uncertainty crept in. The awareness of their different worlds lingered like a shadow. They hesitated, caught in the delicate balance of newfound feelings and the unspoken fears that held them back. Satoru could see the conflict in [Name]’s eyes, a flicker of longing mingling with doubt.

“Maybe we should take it slow,” he suggested, a hint of reluctance in his voice, as if to protect the fragile bond they had forged. “There’s so much we don’t know about each other, and our worlds are... complicated.”

“Yeah,” [Name] agreed softly, her heart sinking a little. “It’s just… I never expected to feel this way about you.” The words hung in the air between them, a mixture of hope and apprehension.

“Me neither,” Satoru confessed, his gaze lingering on her, a mixture of admiration and longing dancing in his eyes. “But I don’t want to lose what we have.”

“Me neither,” she echoed, a smile breaking through the uncertainty. “Let’s just enjoy this, then. Whatever ‘this’ is.”

As they sat together, enveloped in the magical night, they made a silent pact to cherish their friendship and the growing connection between them, even if they weren’t ready to act on it just yet. They would continue to meet at the border, sharing their lives, dreams, and stories—building a foundation for something more, one precious moment at a time.

________________

The sun filtered through the leaves of Pixie Hollow, casting dappled shadows across the ground as [Name] flitted about, her wings shimmering with a newfound vibrancy. Each day had felt like a page from a dream since she had met Satoru. She couldn't help but smile as she recalled their enchanting conversations under the stars, the warmth of his presence that contrasted so beautifully with the chill of his realm. It was a feeling she had never experienced before, a heady mixture of excitement and longing that painted her world in shades of wonder.

However, her exuberance hadn’t gone unnoticed. Shoko had observed the subtle changes in [Name]’s demeanor. Shoko was wise beyond her years, possessing a keen intuition that often led her to the heart of matters before they fully revealed themselves. With each passing day, she saw [Name]’s smiles grow brighter, her laughter more effervescent, as if a hidden light had ignited within her. But it was not just the smiles that raised Shoko’s concern; it was the way [Name] often drifted off into daydreams, her gaze distant, as if she were peering through the veil that separated their worlds.

One afternoon, as they settled on a mossy patch beneath an ancient oak, Shoko’s curiosity could no longer be contained. “You seem… different lately,” she remarked, tilting her head slightly, her golden hair cascading over her shoulder. “I mean it in the best way possible, but you’ve been smiling a lot more. Almost like you’re in love.”

Caught off guard, [Name] felt her cheeks heat up at the mention of love, her heart skipping a beat. She had never been one to hide her emotions, but the connection she shared with Satoru felt so profound, so delicate, that she had hesitated to speak of it. Still, Shoko’s gentle probing coaxed the truth from her.

“I—well, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you,” [Name] finally admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. As she looked into Shoko’s eyes, she saw a mixture of anticipation and concern reflected back at her. It encouraged her to continue. “I met someone. At the border, on a night when the moon was full and bright.”

The words spilled out, a torrent of excitement and trepidation. [Name] recounted the night of their first meeting, describing Satoru’s striking white hair, the way his blue eyes glimmered with mischief and warmth. She spoke of their shared stories, the enchanting evenings spent under the starlit sky, where laughter rang like chimes in the breeze. The memories flowed easily, and with each detail shared, she felt the weight of her secret lift. She spoke of their meetings, how they had become a cherished part of her existence, like the changing seasons that brought new life to her world.

But as she continued, she could see the shift in Shoko’s expression. The initial glimmer of excitement in her eyes began to fade, replaced by concern that etched deeper lines into her brow. Shoko listened intently, her posture tense as she absorbed the words spilling from [Name]’s heart. When [Name] finally finished her tale, there was a heavy silence that settled between them, the soft rustle of leaves filling the air.

“You know this isn’t just some innocent romance, right?” Shoko finally spoke, her voice firm but gentle. “You’re aware of the dangers, [Name]? Winter fairies dwell in their realm for a reason. The temperature change—”

“I know, I know,” [Name] interjected, a hint of impatience creeping into her tone. She had been grappling with the reality of their situation, the inherent risks that loomed like shadows over their growing bond. “But Satoru is… he’s incredible, Shoko. He makes me feel alive in a way I’ve never felt before. We understand each other, and I can’t just walk away from that.”

Shoko sighed, her expression softening as she took [Name]’s hands in hers, their fingers intertwined. “I see how happy you are, and I want that for you. But love is complicated, especially when it involves crossing the borders of our worlds. What if something happens? What if he gets too close and you’re unable to survive the cold?”

[Name] could feel her heart sink at the thought. She had been so wrapped up in the magic of their connection that she hadn’t fully considered the consequences of their actions. But every time she thought of Satoru, the warmth he brought into her life, her resolve strengthened. “But what if I miss out on something extraordinary? I’ve always dreamed of knowing more than just Pixie Hollow. Satoru gives me that chance.”

Shoko remained quiet, her gaze searching [Name]’s face, as if weighing the sincerity of her words. Finally, she spoke, her tone softening. “Just be careful, okay? I don’t want to see you hurt. You have a beautiful heart, and it deserves to be protected.”

“I promise to be careful,” [Name] assured her, squeezing Shoko’s hands tightly. “But I also need you to trust me. I can handle this. I know it’s risky, but it’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

Shoko nodded, albeit reluctantly, the weight of her concern still heavy on her shoulders. “I trust you, [Name]. Just… promise me you’ll keep an open mind about what’s best for you. And remember, I’m here for you, no matter what happens.”

As the sun dipped lower, casting a warm glow across the landscape, [Name] felt a wave of relief wash over her. The burden of secrecy had been lifted, and she was grateful for Shoko’s understanding, even if it came with a hint of worry. They remained seated in comfortable silence for a while, the bond of their friendship reaffirmed, but [Name] couldn’t shake the feeling that the path ahead would be anything but simple.

And as she thought of Satoru, a blend of excitement and apprehension churned within her. She was ready to embrace the unknown, but she also knew the challenges that lay ahead. With a heart full of hope and a resolve to navigate whatever came her way, [Name] prepared to face the future, one magical night at a time.

___________________________

The moon hung like a glowing pearl in the velvety sky, casting a serene light over the border that separated the warm realm from the cold Winter Woods. The air was thick with anticipation, charged with an energy that neither [Name] nor Satoru could ignore any longer. They sat side by side at their familiar spot, where the glimmering fairy dust intertwined with the soft snow, both acutely aware of the feelings simmering just beneath the surface.

For weeks, they had exchanged stories and laughter, their bond growing stronger with each stolen moment. Yet tonight felt different; a powerful urge lingered in the space between them, an unspoken acknowledgment of what they both yearned for but had hesitated to voice. Satoru’s heart raced as he glanced at [Name], her warm presence igniting a fire within him. The way her eyes sparkled under the moonlight drew him in, making it increasingly difficult to resist the pull between them.

“I wish I could show you my world,” she began, her voice soft but filled with passion. “The colors of the flowers in bloom, the gentle rustle of leaves… it’s all so magical.” The longing in her voice stirred something deep within him, a wish to experience all the warmth and vibrancy she spoke of. But as the words left her lips, he felt the weight of their situation—a chasm between their worlds that felt insurmountable.

“Satoru, what if…” [Name] hesitated, her brow furrowing as she met his gaze, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. “What if it’s too dangerous for you to come to my side? The warmth—”

He leaned closer, his expression earnest. “I want to be with you, [Name]. No matter the risk.” His determination resonated in the air, making her pulse quicken. Yet, she could see the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, the fear of the unknown that lingered beneath his bravado.

“I can’t let you get hurt,” she replied, concern lacing her tone. “You don’t know what the warmth can do to you.”

But Satoru was resolute. The thought of being apart from her any longer felt unbearable. “I would rather feel the warmth and risk it all than stay on my side, longing for you. I’ll be careful, I promise.”

The moment hung between them, charged with possibility. He knew the risks, yet the prospect of crossing that boundary felt monumental. After what felt like an eternity of searching each other’s eyes, Satoru took a deep breath and stepped forward, standing at the edge of the border where winter met warmth.

“Let me show you what it’s like to be here with me.” The sincerity in his voice softened the tension between them. He glanced back at her, excitement mingling with a hint of nervousness.

After a moment of hesitation, [Name] finally nodded, her heart swelling with a mixture of hope and concern. “Okay, but promise me you’ll be careful.”

“I promise,” he assured her, determination igniting within him.

With a final glance to solidify his resolve, Satoru took that crucial step across the line. The moment he crossed into her world, a wave of warmth enveloped him, a rush of sensations unlike anything he had ever experienced. It felt as though the sun itself had wrapped him in its embrace, igniting every nerve ending in his body. His wings tingled with an electrifying sensation, as if they were awakening to a reality he had longed to know.

He glanced around in disbelief, soaking in the vibrant colors surrounding him. The autumn leaves danced playfully in the breeze, the air fragrant with the scent of blooming flowers. It was a stark contrast to the snowy landscape of Winter Woods he had always known.

“We’re… together,” he whispered, awe washing over him as he turned to face [Name]. Her eyes sparkled with joy and relief, a mirror to his own emotions. The thrill of finally being in the same world, of closing the distance that had kept them apart for so long, was intoxicating.

As they stood there, heartbeats quickening in unison, an electric tension filled the space between them. They hesitated, caught in the moment of realization that they had crossed not just the physical boundary but an emotional one as well.

With an instinctive pull, they surged into each other’s arms, holding on tightly as if afraid to let go. Satoru lifted her off the ground, twirling her under the moonlight, laughter bubbling up as they reveled in the sheer joy of being together.

The world around them faded away, leaving only the two of them enveloped in a cocoon of warmth and magic. When he finally set her down, they remained close, unwilling to break the contact that felt so right. Their eyes sparkled with happiness, love filling the space that had once felt impossibly vast.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” [Name] breathed, her heart soaring as she gazed up at him. “I want to show you everything! The gardens, the streams, the sunset over the valley… there’s so much to see!” Her excitement bubbled over, each word laced with the enthusiasm of sharing her world.

Satoru’s heart swelled with warmth, a smile breaking across his face as he envisioned all the moments they could share together. “I want to see it all with you,” he replied, his voice filled with sincerity. The thrill of the adventure ahead made his heart race faster.

In that moment, everything felt possible. They stood in each other’s space, their breaths mingling in the cool night air, both knowing this was a turning point—a moment that would define the beginning of a new chapter in their lives. As they shared smiles filled with love and longing, the world around them felt vibrant, alive, and filled with endless potential.

As Satoru stood, enveloped in the warmth of [Name]'s world, an exhilarating thrill coursed through him—until, quite suddenly, he felt a peculiar heat begin to radiate from the tips of his wings. It started as a gentle tingle, but it quickly intensified, spreading through the delicate, shimmering membranes like wildfire. A shocked yelp escaped his lips, and he fell to his knees, his heart racing with alarm.

The pleasant warmth that had enveloped him moments before morphed into something alarming, an unsettling sensation that made his skin prickle. He could feel the sweat pooling on his brow as he struggled to understand what was happening. Panic surged within him as he looked down, horrified to see that the edges of his wings were beginning to melt, the ethereal strands dissolving into a shimmering mist that drifted away like fireflies in the night.

“[Name]!” he gasped, his voice strained, a mixture of fear and confusion coloring his tone. He could feel the heat intensifying, and his heart raced with panic. “Something’s wrong!”

At the sound of his distress, [Name] knelt before him, her eyes wide with concern. “Satoru! What’s happening?” she cried, panic rising in her chest as she studied him closely. The realization hit her like a blow: his wings were melting away, and with it, a part of his very being. “We need to get you back to the winter side!”

She reached out, her hands trembling as she grasped his shoulders, willing him to rise. “Come on, we have to hurry!”

Satoru could only nod, his breath coming in shallow gasps as the heat threatened to overwhelm him. “I… I don’t know if I can,” he panted, every fiber of his being screaming for the cold, for the solace of the winter woods. But despite his fear, a part of him was terrified to move away from her warmth.

“Please!” [Name] urged, her voice laced with urgency. She could see the fear in his eyes, the realization dawning that he was losing a part of himself. “You need to get to the cold! I’ll help you!”

With her support, he staggered to his feet, and together they hurried toward the border. Each step felt agonizingly slow as the heat continued to spread, pulling him down with an invisible weight. The world around them began to blur, the vibrant colors of autumn fading into a muted haze as he focused on [Name] and the urgency of their situation.

Finally, they reached the border, the cool air of Winter Woods brushing against his skin like a balm, but it was too late. The moment he crossed back into his world, Satoru felt a sharp pain jolt through him—a raw, wrenching sensation that echoed through his body.

He gasped, looking back over his shoulder just in time to see a fragment of one of his wings break off, fluttering down to the ground like a fallen leaf. It shimmered for a brief moment before settling into the snow, a stark reminder of the price he had just paid.

“No… no, no,” he whispered, disbelief and horror flooding his senses. “This can’t be happening.”

From her kneeling position beside him, [Name] felt a deep, crushing weight settle in her chest as she watched the severed piece of Satoru’s wing fall away. The realization hit her like a tidal wave—she had urged him to cross, had pushed him into this dangerous situation, and now he was paying the price. Tears streamed down her cheeks, hot and painful, as guilt gnawed at her heart.

“What have I done?” she thought, the weight of her emotions crashing down around her like a storm. The reality of their actions felt suffocating, a burden she never wanted to bear. How could she have let this happen? He was brave, so brave for stepping across that boundary, but it was her warmth that had drawn him in, that had made him disregard the danger. She had encouraged him, ignited his desire to explore her world, but it felt as if she had set fire to the very wings he had always known.

“[Name]…” Satoru’s voice broke through her thoughts, gentle yet filled with a profound understanding. He turned to her, eyes softening despite the pain etched on his face. “It’s not your fault,” he reassured her, reading the guilt and sorrow that clouded her thoughts as if they were written across her heart. “I wanted to cross. You didn’t force me. I insisted on it.”

But the weight of his words did little to lift the heaviness in her heart. “I should have known better,” she murmured, her voice trembling. “You could have been hurt—”

“And yet here we are,” he interjected softly, his expression unwavering. “I wouldn’t change a thing if it meant being here with you.”

The sincerity in his gaze melted a portion of her guilt, yet the image of his broken wing lingered in her mind, a haunting reminder of the danger they had danced around for so long. “But your wing—what does this mean for you?” she whispered, tears brimming in her eyes as she grasped his hands.

“It’s just a part of who I am,” he replied, a faint smile touching his lips despite the circumstances. “I’m still here. I’m still me.”

The determination in his voice resonated deeply within her, but it was overshadowed by the fear that laced her heart. She couldn’t shake the worry that he would always carry a piece of her decision with him—a reminder of the moment they had crossed a line neither of them could truly understand.

Tears continued to cascade down [Name]'s cheeks, each droplet a testament to the turmoil swirling within her. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from Satoru’s broken wing, the sight sending fresh waves of despair crashing over her. This was really bad. The realization hit her with the force of a winter storm: his life would be irrevocably changed. No longer would he soar gracefully through the air, wings outstretched beneath the pale moonlight. The thought of Satoru never flying again felt like a dagger to her heart.

The soft glow of the moon illuminated the delicate edges of his wings, now marred by the injury, and the warmth of the night suddenly felt suffocating. She could sense Satoru’s gaze on her, desperately trying to catch her eye, but she was too afraid to meet his stare. She turned away, her heart heavy with the weight of her emotions. The silence between them stretched, thick with unspoken fears and regrets, as she struggled to process the gravity of their situation.

"Maybe this isn’t a good idea," she finally whispered, her voice quaking with emotion. The words felt foreign, a painful admission that shattered the fragile hope they had built together. "We can’t… we can’t be together like this. Winter fairies and warm fairies should stay apart. It’s too dangerous." She swallowed hard, forcing back the sob that threatened to escape. "Look at what just happened."

Satoru’s heart sank at her words, each syllable striking him like an icy gust of wind. It felt as though the ground beneath him had cracked, opening a chasm that threatened to swallow them both. He wanted to argue, to refute her claims, but the sight of her anguish made his resolve waver. He could see the pain in her eyes, the way she fought to stay strong even as her world felt like it was crumbling around her.

“[Name], please,” he urged, his voice thick with emotion. “We can figure this out. We just need to be careful—”

But she shook her head, her soft hair catching the moonlight as she turned away. "No, Satoru. You don’t understand. This isn’t just about us anymore. This is about your safety, your future.” Her voice cracked, and the sorrow in her tone sent a pang of guilt through him.

In that moment, he felt as if he were losing her all over again. The weight of her words settled heavily in the pit of his stomach, suffocating the flicker of hope he had clung to so fiercely. “But we have something special,” he insisted, the desperation in his voice rising. “I don’t want to give that up.”

“I know,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper, but there was a resolute edge to it that made his heart ache. “But look at what just happened to you. Your wings… it’s irreversible. I can’t let you risk any more for me.”

Satoru felt a profound heaviness in his chest, a feeling he had never experienced before. He had always been the brave one, the protector of the Winter Woods, yet here he was, feeling helpless and vulnerable. The urge to argue against her was strong, but he could see how hard she was trying to convince herself of the truth in her own words. He noticed the way she held back, how her body seemed tense, ready to flee from him, from the danger he had so foolishly embraced.

As much as he wanted to fight for them, to push against the boundaries their worlds had set, he couldn’t ignore the pain etched on her face. “If that’s what you truly want,” he murmured, the words slipping from his lips like ash, “then… I’ll agree.”

Her heart raced at his response, a mix of relief and sorrow flooding her senses. She turned back to face him, tears still glistening in her eyes. “You don’t—”

“No,” he interrupted gently, trying to keep his voice steady. “You’re right. I see it now. The danger is real, and I never wanted to put you in harm’s way.” Each word felt like a heavy stone, settling into the depths of his heart, and with each passing moment, it became harder to breathe. “I understand why we shouldn’t cross this line anymore.”

The realization weighed heavily upon them both, a somber agreement that bound their hearts with an unbreakable thread. They were standing on opposite sides of a chasm, and for the first time, the reality of their worlds settled heavily upon their shoulders. He could see it in her eyes—the uncertainty, the longing, and the heartbreak that mirrored his own. Their bond, once so vibrant and full of possibilities, felt like a delicate glass figurine, teetering on the brink of shattering.

But beneath that weight of sorrow, a flicker of understanding emerged. They both cared deeply for each other; they both wanted to protect the other. And in that moment of shared grief, Satoru realized that their connection transcended the borders that divided their worlds. Though they were forced to remain apart, the bond they had forged would forever be a part of them, an unbreakable tie that distance could never sever.

“Maybe one day, when the worlds aren’t so harsh…” [Name] began, her voice trailing off, leaving the sentence hanging between them like a fragile promise.

Satoru nodded, the hope in her voice igniting a spark within him. “Yeah, maybe one day. But until then, we’ll find a way to carry each other in our hearts.”

Slowly, [Name] stepped closer, her heart pounding in her chest, unsure of what she was about to do. She looked deep into Satoru’s eyes, searching for something—an assurance, a promise that they would be okay despite the distance that now lay between them. It was then that she felt the pull of something undeniable, a yearning that had grown stronger with every shared moment they had experienced together.

In that instant, she reached up, her hand trembling slightly as she brushed her fingers against his cheek. Satoru felt his breath hitch, his heart racing in response to her touch. There was an intensity in the air, a moment that felt like a breath held in anticipation. It was both a farewell and an acknowledgment of the bond they had created.

And then, she leaned in, closing the distance between them. Her lips met his softly, a gentle brush that sent a jolt of electricity through both their bodies. It was a kiss filled with the weight of unspoken words, a lingering promise of what could have been. Tears streamed silently down [Name]'s cheeks, mingling with the warmth of their shared breath, the saltiness of her sorrow sweetened by the love they both felt.

Satoru closed his eyes, allowing himself to fully embrace the moment. He leaned into the kiss, his heart swelling with a mix of joy and despair. He let a single tear fall, breaking the fragile equilibrium of their emotions. It rolled down his cheek, a tangible representation of the turmoil in his heart. This kiss felt like an eternity, a perfect snapshot in time where the world around them ceased to exist, and nothing else mattered except for the warmth they shared.

When their lips finally parted, both were breathless, their foreheads resting against one another as they tried to gather themselves. Satoru’s heart ached as he searched [Name]’s eyes, hoping to find solace in the depths of her gaze.

“Be careful on your way back,” she whispered, her voice trembling, a bittersweet smile gracing her lips. Her heart felt heavy with the weight of goodbye, but she knew it was necessary.

He nodded, unable to find the words as he watched her begin to pull away, the distance between them growing once more. The quiet sorrow echoed between them, each moment stretching painfully as they stood on the border of their worlds.

With one last glance, [Name] spread her wings wide, the soft luminescence surrounding her illuminating the darkness. She took off, soaring into the night sky, leaving Satoru standing alone at the border, a figure of winter amidst the vibrant hues of the warm lands.

His heart felt heavy as he watched her fly away, each beat echoing the emptiness left behind. The sight of her gradually fading into the distance made him feel as if a part of him was being torn away. He knew they had to be apart, but the ache in his chest told him otherwise. Satoru stood there, his wings drooping slightly, feeling the chill of the winter woods settle around him, grounding him in the stark reality of their situation.

He took a deep breath, letting the night air fill his lungs, trying to quell the longing that surged within him. Though they had shared a moment that would linger in his heart forever, the sorrow of their parting weighed heavily on him. “Goodbye,” he murmured softly to the empty air, his voice barely audible. He knew that he would carry her with him, always, even if they were worlds apart.

From that day forward, a solemn rule was established, known to every fairy—both winter and warm—that crossing the border was strictly forbidden, ensuring that their worlds would forever remain apart.

[angeliicheartt]

ʜᴀᴜɴᴛᴇᴅ ʙᴜᴛ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀʟᴏɴᴇ.

includes: touya todoroki

gn!reader

note: 0.4k wc, reverse comfort, lazily proofread, idea credit to sennie's sleepy dream brain, hope u like it sennie poo🤍

you laid against touya’s chest, the blackout curtains blocking out any light from outside, casting the room in darkness. your fingers delicately tracing the edges of the burned skin around his collarbone. you feel touya’s body tense as he feels your soft touch along the scars, you hear him inhale sharply, causing your eyes to flicker up to meet his cerulean eyes. he gives you a small, tense smile, his eyes wary. 

“what’re you up to, hm?” he rasps, his gravelly voice ricocheting through you. you fold your hands on top of his chest, resting your chin in the divots of your fingers. 

“admiring you,” you murmur, your eyes filled with nothing but adoration for the tortured boy. he scoffs, his lip curling slightly as one of his hands moves to play with the ends of your hair, “what’s there to admire?” he asks crudely.

your eyebrows furrow at his comment, watching as he stares just behind you, as if your hair was the most interesting thing in the world. 

“touya,” you murmur, his eyes flicking to meet yours before finding your hair again. 

“hm,” he hums, ignoring your efforts to meet his gaze. your hand gently cups his cheek, the soft skin of your palm grazing the rough skin of his scars. you tilt his head to face you, his eyes finally landing on your own once again. his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you grab the hand messing with your hair, bringing it to your lips as you begin to pepper kisses along the flaking skin.

you keep your eyes locked on his as your lips trail up his arm, a few kisses to his forearm, a few to his bicep, before switching to the other arm, starting again at his hand and trailing your way up again. 

“y/n, what are you—” you cut him off with a kiss to his chapped lips. his eyes flutter shut for a moment, always weakest when your lips are involved. 

“just shut up and let me do this, okay?” you murmur against his lips once you part, your eyes take in his dilated eyes and flushed cheeks before pecking his lips once again. you lean down, peppering kisses along his collarbone and up his neck. along his jaw and over his cheeks your lips lingered. 

your hands move to cup his scarred cheeks, his eyes shutting softly as you kiss under his eyes, before finally planting your lips on his again. his hand moves to cradle your head against his own, his deft fingers tangling in your hair as his lips melt against yours. 

you part from his lips once more, “there’s a lot to admire, touya.”

“whatever you say, sweetheart,” he murmurs, the edges of his lips quirking up as he pulls you in once again. 

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @seneon @rueclfer @kozumesphone @sviidoll @comicxzzsalt @goobzi

[ang3lc]

Ophan!reader going to johnnies (bf/fiance/hubby) parents to meet them, and is like immediately accepted by his massive family (it’s cliche but cute)

the worms in my brain did a happy dance when I read this omg, ps I listened to all too well 10 min version while writing this

>> fluff, established relationship, Johnny x reader

---

The jolliest of seasons had arrived with December’s first snowfall. Soft, fluffy flakes floated down, tapping against the windowpane before gathering in a thick, gentle layer over the ground. Outside, string lights stretched from one side of the street to the other, casting a warm glow that made the whole block twinkle like a scene from a holiday postcard. The snow caught in the lights, making it look as though the whole street was dusted in stardust, each flake reflecting the winter wonderland that was forming.

Inside, the cozy warmth made the contrast even sweeter.

You and Johnny were nestled on the couch, wrapped up in each other's warmth as you watched the snow drift quietly outside. The low hum of the TV and the soft crackle of the fireplace were the only sounds in the room, creating a comforting, blissful silence. His warmth beside you, the steady rise and fall of his chest, made you feel safe and perfectly content despite the winter chill just beyond the walls.

"Edinburgh's beautiful this time of year, ya know?" Johnny murmured softly in your ear, his voice a gentle warmth against your skin. Your back was snugly pressed against his chest, the thick blanket you’d crocheted wrapped around the both of you, adding to the cozy cocoon.

"Ah was thinkin'," he continued, his tone a blend of tenderness and hope, "since ah ken how ye get around these times… maybe ye should come with me this year… meet my mam, my family."

You knew what he meant. Christmas. Family, joy, love—the things you’d always kept at a distance. But with Johnny, Christmas had started to feel like something magical, like a season worth celebrating.

"You think so?" you asked, turning to meet his gaze. His cerulean eyes were filled with warmth and certainty, a soft glow in the firelight that made your heart skip.

"Aye, lassie." he whispered, his voice sure and steady, wrapping you in a warmth that reached deeper than the blanket around you both.

By the end of that night, plane tickets were purchased, dates were set, and his family was well informed.

...

It was Christmas Eve, and you and Johnny were pulling into his mother’s driveway. As he parked, you glanced over at him, nerves fluttering in your chest. You worried about what his family might think, unsure of what to expect, how to act—and especially not feeling ready to celebrate Christmas.

You hadn’t known what to get anyone, or even what made a good Christmas gift, but Johnny had guided you through it. What was meant to be a quick trip to Target turned into two hours, $500, and a sack of gifts hefty enough to rival Santa’s.

Sensing your unease, Johnny turned to you, his eyes meeting yours with that familiar warmth. He placed his hand over yours, his steady touch calming the anxious knot in your stomach.

"They’re goin' tae love ye, Bon. Promise," he murmured reassuringly, his voice soft yet certain.

You nodded, exhaling a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. When Johnny saw that you were okay, he flashed you a reassuring smile and stepped out of the car, circling around to open your door. He pulled the massive sack of gifts from the trunk, giving it an amused look.

“Ah think ye overdid it, lass,” he chuckled, his smile so warm it felt like it could bring world peace.

Your cheeks flushed, wondering if maybe you had overdone it. You’d picked out gifts for everyone expected tonight—his parents, grandparents, three sisters, two brothers, and all six nieces and nephews.

“I just hope they like the gifts…” you murmured as he took your hand, balancing the sack over his other shoulder.

The door opened to reveal a petite woman who could only be Johnny’s mother. She had the same deep blue eyes, filled with that unmistakable kindness and warmth.

“Seven hells! Johnny, where ye been hidin' ‘er? Right bonnie lass, ain’t she?” his mother exclaimed, grinning as she stepped aside to welcome you both inside.

“Don' go scarin' 'er away no', Ma,” Johnny laughed, placing a gentle hand on the small of your back as your cheeks flushed. His mother shut the door behind you, mumbling something about keeping the house warm.

The moment Johnny spoke, a lively hum broke out from the living room, where nearly every face you’d bought gifts for was gathered. You braced yourself, expecting everyone to greet Johnny first while you stood awkwardly in the background, but reality couldn’t have been further from that.

Small children, all under ten, dashed over and hugged your legs as three beautiful women (Johnny’s sisters, you assumed) moved to embrace you, pressing warm kisses to your cheeks. They immediately pulled you into the family circle, showering you with questions and heartfelt compliments. It was as if Johnny wasn't even there.

Johnny’s mother could have left the door wide open, letting the winter winds blow through and settle into the bones of the house, and still, nothing could have cooled the warmth spreading through your heart.

mlist

[withonly-sweetheart]

Back to the Sea

The mysterious stranger on the boat happens to be your roommate and you can't help but wonder who he is. Something about him captivates you, but what happens when an artist loses his brush?

a/n: so... this is all @chesue00's fault. dont get me wrong ilysm pookie but i cannot tell you how much this was going through my head the entire day like i wanted to get home so badly and write this i almost told my teach to fuck off... but thank u ur so talented it hurts like that inspired me sm and thats what art should do! ty! <333

tw: angst?? bc its not my fic unless its got angst (hopefully...) uhm mentions of like illnesses and the flu and stuff but idk help

wc: 5.2k - yes im not even kidding i wrote this all tdy and its not even grammar checked will do that later hehehehehe <333

As the sun dips below the horizon, casting a warm golden hue across the vast expanse of the ocean, you sit at the edge of the ship, gaze fixed on the endless waves stretching out before her. The gentle sway of the ship beneath you, the salty sea air mingling with the haunting cries of the seagulls soaring overhead; it all served as a reminder of sorrow and loss that clings to you like a heavy shroud.

You take it between your fingers, as if you can feel the harsh, unforgiving ivory material form under your hand, and wrap it around yourself tighter, cherishing the small bursts of warmth you get from sitting up here.

Each wave that laps against the side of the ship fails to cover the whispers of the crowd steadily disappearing around you, pointing fingers shamelessly, wondering why a girl your age is sitting, all alone, staring wistfully out at the cerulean abyss.

Someone clears their throat behind you. The last thing you want is to be bothered, so you twist over your shoulder to dismiss them, but somewhere up your throat, the words clump together into a soft gasp.

You have seen him around the ship, when you were first boarding, but you didn’t get the best look at him. Now that you do, you know one thing as true as the sky is blue.

He’s breathtaking. His eyes, reflecting the azure of the ocean, flash with lightning quick irritation, as if your presence inconveniences him. The curve of his lips set in a straight line, tightening almost imperceptibly, jaw clenching ever so slightly.

If you weren’t looking so hard, you could’ve missed it all. 

But how could you miss anything he does, when each ripple of his feature is like a brushstroke? An artist’s slow, deliberate intentions, painting the man in front of you.

“You are taking up the seat,” he mumbles, so quietly you almost don’t catch it. “Apologies,” you respond, shifting to make room for him. The dip between his eyebrows deepens and you find yourself frowning back. “Is something wrong?”

His gaze clouds, turning a muffled shade of gray. “No.”

You hum in response before turning back to the ocean. The heavy silence writhes between them, its unseen grip tightening with each breath. Your mind churns, sensing dark depths his haunted eyes warn away.

So you stand and stroll away, not sparing a glance at the brooding figure. You don’t wish to descend into his sorrow. You have enough of your own, and the tension crackling between you is nearly tangible. 

You know well that behind every handsome man, there is a troubled mind.

And the windows to those thoughts are the eyes.

<><><><>

“If the brothe bee to sweete, put in the more wine, or els a litle vineger.” 

You recall this line from a cookbook your mother once owned as you stare down at the barely distinguishable liquid in a bowl in front of you. Chips of wood flake off and dissolve into the mess of what you think are minced vegetables pooling at the bottom. Though the bubbles of oil faintly remind you of home, nothing else is the same.

You can’t remember the last time you had traditional soup, from the homeland, where everyone's the same as you and food is plentiful, rich in the scent of tangy spices and fresh vegetables and ripe fruit, where the forest birds sing sweet melodies in your ear.

But you are no longer there. It will, as all things do, fade with time, resolving as just a landscape drawn in your head, reduced to nothing but scribbles.

With a sigh far too troubled for your age, you gingerly push the bowl away, careful not to slosh any of it over the edge. You know you are being picky; food is food, and starvation will slowly creep up on you when you least expect it.

But it is better to starve than throw yourself from the starboard, letting the choppy waves consume you. Hunger takes time, crescendoing pain and ache until you cannot bear it. Suffering will suffice, at this moment.

And across the dining hall, the small room housing yet a few late night eaters, you spot him saunter in. Long, black trench coat brushing his ankles, a hat you did not see that now casts shadows upon his chiseled face.

His overalls strain with effort and crumple into wrinkles as he sits a few tables away, raising a hand, wordlessly summoning a bowl of soup that carries from tentative hands. He waves the aged woman away, and perhaps he does not catch the longing look in her eyes.

She has not seen a man so divine in years. Her time at sea has clouded her judgment. This is yet another reason why you must traverse the ocean blue, to prevent the jobs piling up at what you thought was your home, near the port, where the docks carry back the ashes of your family.

You used to love the ocean, the beach, the shores. When the sea hurt you, your father would kiss the tears away, murmuring soft assurance in the shell of your small ear. Although she was nearly a decade older, your sister would never decline an offer of yours to hunt for the little creatures that popped up from the swirling sand, watching them disappear underneath your slow hands.

You miss them. Influenza never failed to take, take, take; the greedy fingers latched on to your family before you could arrive home that day to sick corpses so pale you could not recognize them.

The doctor had suggested a traditional burial,but you knew there was one more thing the sea needed. You lit the pyres, watched their souls mingle with the smoke that gasped for the clouds, and waited.

When all that was left of your loved ones was charred, ivory dust that seemed to sparkle back at you, unaware of its fate, you gathered it into a pot that your grandmother gifted you.

The ocean rejected your offering, at first. It veered away, pulling water from the shore lines, but you stood fast. And it came back, gathered what was already gone, and took it away from you.

The sea never fails to remind you of what you’ve lost.

But here, on the ship, a marvel of engineering, keeping you afloat, you are not truly with the sea. You will not make yourself mold to the pitiful, lonely girl everyone expects you to be. 

With that resolve, you cradle the soup back to your chest, staring it down with defiant eyes. The ocean will not have another victim, you will make sure of that.

It burns your throat all the way down, saltier than the sea. Bile raises to combat it but you force spoon after spoon into your stomach. All that remains from your battle is the wood, which you tried your best to separate from the soup, but you are sure that you definitely swallowed at least some of it.

As the thinnest definition of dinner warms your insides against the cold that threatens to seep in, your eyes find him across the galley. He sits alone, as always, nursing a tin cup and gazing into its contents as if answers lay within.

You recall your chance encounter in the night, the rare moments of grace amid tumult never far from his eyes. Though he often keeps away from the streams of people, you have the feeling it has less to do with aloofness than wounds not easily unveiled.

As if finally sensing your gaze, his eyes lift and meet yours across the dusty space. There seems to be no cracks in his steely expression, his stormcloud eyes, but there is a flicker of emotion - curiosity, or perhaps kinship's first stirrings. 

You offer the barest nod before returning focus to your meager meal. Yet all the while, currents stronger than the sea pull at your thoughts, drawing them ever back towards that quiet figure and mysteries that beg to be revealed. You tilt your head to the side, rubbing fingers down your neck, feeling your pulse race underneath your skin. Massaging the area, you force yourself to relax.

You force yourself to believe that those eyes haven’t jarred your thoughts.

<><><><>

“I must… have the wrong room.” Those same eyes stare back at you, hands trembling slightly around parchment yellowing at the edges, swirling with confusion. “I apologize.”

“It wouldn’t, by chance, be 930, would it?” you ask. 

“Er… yes,” he admits with a dip of his head, looking almost embarrassed by the situation. “I suppose I’ll go request another-”

“It’s quite alright,” you race to say before you can stop yourself. “I do not mind.”

A small corner of his mouth lifts, if only for a second, and when his expression goes back to being neutral, you find yourself wanting to coax more emotions from him. 

You help him get settled in, telling him he could take the bed on the right. When he’s finished fussing with the sheets, you sit on your respective mattresses, awkwardly staring down at your hands.

"I... thank you," he finally replies, his voice soft. "I did not expect to find understanding here."

“Your name, sir?”

“Leon. Your name, I already know.”

“How fascinating.”

“You are a… popular subject of gossip upon this vessel.”

“Why are you traveling to England?” you ask, finding yourself making small talk to switch the topic. “Are you simply traveling?”

“Yes.” 

“Where is your hometown?” His eyes glaze over with the familiar homesickness you can recognize.

"My home lies in a small village far from here," he replies, gazing into memories only he could see. "A quiet place, surrounded by green countryside and simple folks." His eyes find yours with rare openness. "And you? What brings one so young to cross the sea alone?"

“I’m paying my lovely aunt a visit,” you say vaguely, trying to make your voice light. But he must hear the undertones of it, because he cocks his head to the side, arching a golden eyebrow.

“Is that so?” he muses. “I hope you enjoy your trip.”

“I’ve noticed you carry that briefcase around quite a bit,” you say, quickly changing the subject. “Is it dear to you?”

He laughs, a warm, rich tone that sparks something in your heart. 

Maybe… just… maybe?

“Not so,” he explains. He leans over to grab the case resting on the nightstand and clicks it open. “This is the reason I am traveling, you see.”

You peer over the top of the rusty case to reveal… pencils?

“You are… an artist?” you ask, slightly confused. You hadn’t taken him for a participant of the fine arts, but at your query, his eyes seem to light with an inspiration not previously there.

“I have lost my flame,” he says slowly, cautiously, as if placing his words carefully. “I thought England would fix… the problem… but perhaps… you could help me?” At your face, he bites his lip. "A smooth sea never makes a skilled sailor, as they say."

“Who has ever said that, and who am I to decline a stranger in need?” You chuckle, and his grin seems to usurp his entire expression. 

“You need not do anything,” he rushes to say, hands flurrying to unpack the materials carefully stowed away in the briefcase. The determined, set look on his face is enough to convince you, and even if it hadn’t, realistically, would you be able to say no?

He stills suddenly, observing you, sweeping over you, drinking in everything, as if to absorb your being. When his gaze meets yours, he smiles and it truly reaches his previously emotionless eyes.

“You are… perfect,” he whispers. He holds his pencil up, bottom lip disappearing as he frowns, grumbling in frustration. “But this lighting is… not quite correct.”

Leon eyes the room, then stands suddenly. You watch him, watch him drag a chair from the small writing desk over to the foot of his bed, planting it firmly. He points a finger to the empty space, gesturing for you to sit there.

“What exactly are you planning?” You ask with a smile.

The one he returns matches your curiosity. “We shall see.”

And that is exactly how, a few minutes later, you sit with your legs crossed, hands folded over one another in your lap, with a soft smile decorating your face.

“You must stay still,” he chastises, gazing at you with a languid look in his eyes, voice dreamy, as if he sees something in you that you can’t.

“You have not yet answered my question.” You ignore the red blooming up your neck at his fluttering gaze. He lounges further into the bed, hiding more of himself away, spinning the pencil between his fingers.

He looks almost thoughtful as he scribbles away, muttering to himself, lost in a trance. You lean against the dresser, resting your body weight on it, feeling yourself relax.

His eyes move back to you, and he jolts, like something drastic has changed. His hands fly rapidly across the paper, gaze locked onto you. He smudges something with his finger, erases something here and there, and eventually, he huffs a sigh and leans back, looking somewhat satisfied with the paper.

Intrigued, you stand from your position, stretching your stiff joints. “May I see?”

Leon snorts a laugh. “Of course not.”

“It is my portrait, no?” You grin. “Show me.” Without another word, you lean over the foot of the bed, over the elaborate carvings of wood, and try to sneak a peek at the paper.

He lets out what you can only describe as a boyish squeal, and yanks the pad away from you, clutching it to his chest. “I said no!”

Leon tries his best to play-keep away from your hands, folding the paper carefully in half as he stuffs it into an inner pocket of his shirt. When you try to reach for it, instinctively, he flushes a red hue that matches the crimson of your bedsheets.

“Apologies,” you whisper.

“It’s alright,” he whispers back.

The air has gone back to tense, anguish, as if you are both hurtling towards something you cannot stop, racing towards a finish line in a race you do not wish to compete in. When he climbs into bed, wordlessly, you wonder what you did to deserve this torture, to have a masterpiece sleeping a few feet away. 

He purses his lips and blows out the flame in the lantern standing proud on your nightstand, murmuring a quick goodbye.

As your eyes adjust to the absence of light, you watch the blanket blow out around him, creeping over his body, hugging him tightly. His snores come quickly, gentle and quiet, not bothersome.

You sigh and close your eyes, wishing for the relief of sleep to come as fast as his.

<><><><>

Strangely enough, someone rouses you from your sleep, something you didn’t expect. Breakfast calls were a luxury reserved for those with money, but you weren’t going to complain. Missing the first meal of the day had serious consequences in your household.

This isn’t your household, though. These aren’t your rules.

And that definitely isn’t a handkeep’s fingers clutched around your arm.

“Leon?” you murmur, rubbing your eyes, savoring the fuzzy corners before every comes into focus with sudden clarity. He stands beside your bed, gaze darting here and there. 

“Oh… you are awake,” he says as he isn’t the reason it is so.

“You woke me,” you state blankly, blinking up at him.

“I suppose… well,” he mutters, then sighs, shaking his head. “Never mind that.”

“How often does this happen?” you ask quietly, sitting up. “Are you plagued by night horrors?”

“I am not a child!” he snaps, then immediately softens, regret pooling in his eyes. “It is just… I thought you had left…”

“Yet I am here, no?” you say, slightly bemused. The tips of Leon’s ears turn a salmon pink as he lets out a shuddering breath, nodding. 

“I see that,” he says with a small smile, sitting beside you, leaving enough space to respect your privacy. You return one with just as much carefully measured emotion, not wanting to scare him away, wanting him to open up.

As gray dawn spreads its thin wings slowly over calm waters, he recollects himself. He tells you fragments of his past, picking up pieces of his past until it fits into a puzzle perfectly. An orphan, talent stripped from him by the urge to survive.

You faintly think that he should also be a writer, because the way he tells his story is akin to the way an author paints a scene with just words. You can see his parents in the shadows, echoing in his laugh, in the slant of his nose, the pucker of his chin. 

He shrugs, twisting to face you. “I almost died, there, on the streets.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.”

His eyes meet yours, “So am I.”

Seeing him in such a vulnerable state, you can’t help but feel inclined to share what truly happened to you as well.

“I’m not… just visiting my aunt.”

A ghost of a smile graces his lips. “I was thinking as much. Tell me, what is the true purpose of your visit.”

“My family recently passed from influenza. Only sorrow trails me in the States. Perhaps returning to my hometown will provide… solace?” You offer a dry laugh, but Leon’s expression goes stony as he takes your hands into his.

“I… did not know,” he says, sounding as sincere as you’ve ever heard him. “I made such a joke without understanding the full context… I apologize.”

“It is really nothing,” you rush to assure him, but more so because the crestfallen look on his face is something you do not wish to bring upon. “I forgive you.”

“You are still tired,” he says with another sigh. “I will wake you for breakfast. Sleep.”

He’s right. Too sleepy to protest, you clutch the blankets around you and shut out not only the slowly growing beams of sunlight from the window, but also the relief that emanates from Leon’s very being, flooding over you, bringing you the peace that lets you drift off.

<><><><>

You wake to frigid air seeping through cracks in the ship's walls, clouds hiding the sun’s bright smile. Throwing off your thin blankets, you grasp the warmth, hoping it still lingers. But your hand meets only cold, empty fabric. 

Panic rises in my throat as you rush from the sleeping quarters. Out on the icy deck, figures hustle to and fro under a pale, stormy sky. Your eyes scan for one in particular, relief flooding through you as you spot his lean form near the rail, gaze lost to the sea. 

"Leon," you call softly so as not to wake the other sleeping passengers. When he turns, worry is etched into his brows. You brush it off with a shaky smile. "I had feared the night's dangers had claimed you at last." 

“At last?” His lips turn up in return, reassuring you with his movement. But you can see the shadow neither of you could outrun, not with Death stalking your decks in his grim dance. 

Drawing near, you trace his stare to the horizon, limitless and cold. You stand in front of him as he lingers behind, hesitating, arms outstretched. 

“I wish to fly, one day,” you say jokingly. “But I suppose for now, swimming will do.”

“I cannot swim,” he admits quietly. “I never will.”

“Of course you can,” you insist. “Anyone can-”

“Not everyone has lost their brother to the sea.”

 The answer burns, searing your back in the way he delivers it, venom in his voice. But eventually, he sighs, as if giving in, and you can feel him get closer.

“May I?” You admire that he asks before anything, and when you nod, he wraps his arms around your waist, pushing you gently against the railing that you clutch tightly. He rests his head on your shoulder, craning his neck to stand comfortably.

Then he speaks again. “My deepest apologies. As you can tell… I miss him.”

"Then we'll face such fears together," you say with such finality you believe it yourself. "None are meant to wander depths of sadness all alone. But your brother's memory lives on you - a gift more precious than any sea could claim. I know this. And what are you doing now?”

Slowly, you can feel his lips curl upwards against your neck, sparking at your words, growing into that smile you’ve come to cherish. 

“You wish to fly? This is as close as I can get you, beloved.”

With a grin of your own spreading across your face, you outstretch your arms, leaning into the wind, wanting to let it carry you both away. Your fingers trace the sharp line of his jaw, coming to rest on his beating pulse that lives on despite all the world has tried to steal away.

You don’t know what overtakes you, the immense feeling of admiration you feel for him, that might be what spurs you to lean in. And, much to your surprise and pleasure, as soft morning light limns sea and sky in a hopeful blend of blue, your lips meet in a kiss - brief, chaste, yet speaking everything you need to hear. 

“At least I’ll have you,” he says, melting back into your embrace, tightening his arms around your hips. “One thing the sea will never take.”

But you should’ve known.

The waters are never done taking.

<><><><>

You do not know when the screams started. All you know is that they came with the rough tides, crashing against the boat, with the crackle of thunder and smoke hissing in the air. Everyone rushes to cram into the sleeping quarters, but living near the port all your life, you know better. You know exactly what is happening.

The boat is sinking.

And strangely enough, your first thought is to find Leon. He had asked you to wait a quiet moment on the deck, and you had both dismissed the rolling clouds, steadily creeping towards you while he disappeared below the deck.

You had been hoping that he would show you his art. Now you hope that you can get him out in time. But before you can scrunch up your dress and scramble into the quarters, someone grabs your arm.

You do not see the face. You know it is not Leon, he is infinitely calmer and more gentle than the rough fingers of whoever your captor is. As you struggle to look up at the face, you are tossed into a boat that hangs on the side of the ship.

“Women and children first!” a gruff voice calls out, presumably the one that just manhandled you. You try to protest, saying you need to go back, but the small boat fills up quicker than you expect, and eventually you are being slowly lowered down onto the choppy waves.

You stand on tiptoe, trying to make out any sign of Leon on the ship, hoping he makes it out okay. The people rowing the boat harshly yank you down before pushing away from the boat. Every stroke they make takes you farther and farther away, until the dense fog shrouds the entire ship from your view.

And the unexpected happens. You hear a loud crack and the boat immediately splinters into two. The women and their children huddle to one side, the bigger side, while you and some other girls stay put, eyes fixed on where you last saw the ship.

With no one to steer, you veer back towards it and it comes into view, only this time, it is on fire. Flames lick the sides, hissing where it meets the salty sea, climbing up the ship. And you see the mess of blond hair that you so desperately recognize.

“Leon!” You shout, screaming for his attention. His eyes snap to your general direction, scanning the area with a wide, panicked expression before landing on you. Almost immediately his face softens before it returns to its stony, default look.

You are confused for a moment before he quickly surveys the area. A raft hangs from the side, unused, calling his name, and you realize with shame that your boat is starting to sink, dipping into the water.

You and the other girls lean to the other side, pleading for help. Summoning all fading strength, you yell his name once more as waves close over your head. Darkness swallows your cries, drowning them in the murky ocean depths, yet in your fleeting consciousness, your trust for him remains like the anchor you wish him to be.

Breathless, gasping, you break the surface amid a sea of shrieks and sinking debris. There through the smoke a ragged shape appears, slicing swift as any bird towards you. Strong hands grasp and haul you aboard the makeshift raft, lying there to cling and spend your remaining prayers in thanks to Leon as he attends each soul amid the roiling deep, ferrying them from the ocean’s inky grasp with steady hands and calmer gaze.

“Are you alright, dear?” he calls to you after the third and final girl is pulled to safety, gasping for breath. “I did not expect this situation whatsoever.”

“Neither did I,” you murmur, spitting the remnants of the salt in your throat back into the sea, like returning a gift. “I suppose we will be alright now.”

Leon’s face crumples. “I’m afraid not.”

You groan. “What is it now? Is it the sharks from the depths? I will fight them with my bare hands, just you watch!”

You watch his expression flash through amusement, then back to pain. “We… I…”

“What troubles you so?”

He gestures a hand to the sea around you, to the drenched figures, far too many for the raft to carry. You realize this with the drop of your heart.

“There are too many of us,” he says apologetically, like he’s only hurting you. “One of us must leave.” 

For a second, you consider pushing one of the girls off. Anything to keep him. But you realize that your selfish thoughts should not take control. You grab his hands, clutching them tightly, holding them to your chest.

“Then it shall be me.”

Leon offers a weak smile. “No.”

“No?” you sputter. “What- it was not a question!”

“It will not be the answer either, my love,” he says gently, prying his hands from yours. “I will be the last. Please make sure of that.”

And before you can plead for him to stay, his weight shifts and you can feel the raft rising again. He casts one more, sorrowful look at you before he glides into the water, descending effortlessly. You reach for him, and your fingers brush his knuckles before he disappears forever.

Before he is gone. 

Yet another loved one.

Lost to the sea.

<><><><>

You wait for an indeterminate amount of time, waiting for the news to arrive one day at your aunt’s doorstep, that he is still alive, awaiting your arrival in some uncharted region. But no such idea comes. And eventually, the denial washes away and you are left with the loss that nothing can fix.

You rock in the chair of your living room, the smell of your aunt’s soup no longer bringing saliva to your mouth, but tears to your eyes, because now everything reminds you of Leon.

The bell rings outside and you can’t bring yourself to rise and answer the door with puffy eyes and tear-streaked cheeks. Your aunt knows this, so without sparing you another look, allowing you your privacy, opens the door just a smidge.

She makes conversation with the person standing outside before turning back to you with a soft smile. She hands you an envelope, and you cannot lie when your heart races up to the sky, finding purchase in the fluffy clouds.

You cannot find the words to thank her, but she knows this as well, and walks away without another word. When she disappears behind the kitchen corner, you rush to open the letter.

The first words send your heart plummeting back to where it was, perhaps even crashing through the layer of obsidian and burrowing itself in a place where it will never return. But upon scanning the rest of the thoughtful, heartfelt message, there is a tug that forces you to check the rest of the envelope.

And when you unfurl a piece of paper, long since forgotten in your brain, you muffle a cry with the back of your hand, the parchment trembling in your five, shaky fingers.

It is the portrait Leon drew of you. It made its way back to you.

You know, after seeing this, there is one thing you must do. You lie the paper down on the round table beside you, careful to preserve it.

You wash up, put on a dress your aunt lent to you, a blue, rippling thing that seems to reflect the ocean waves back at you. You tie your hair up, wanting to look somewhat presentable. 

And you call out a goodbye to your aunt, who’s smile you can hear in her voice, evident as she waves from the kitchen, ecstatic to see you out and about. But there is only one place you must go. One thing you must do to find the closure you are aching for.

Back to where it all started.

<><><><>

Tears that are the crystals of salt found in the ocean's depths stream down your face, as unnatural as the mixture of saltwater and freshwater, where one stops, another begins.

In the ocean, you slip from your skin, thoughts descending down a mad spiral, the spirits watching as you mingle with the essence of saltwater stinging your sunburned skin. The night air does little to nothing to cool your thoughts.

Is he there? In the droplets that cradle the back of your hands, trickling from the pool cupped in your palms. You can see him standing, just a few feet away, knee deep in the water, as constant as the waves and as calm as the tides.

Leon’s hair waves in the moonlight, a silent greeting to you, cerulean bathing his face in a ghastly blue, making him seem more and more like the ghost he is.

You raise a hand, out of instinct, choking back a sob. 

A smile curves those salty, timeless lips.

“You left me too,” you whisper through tears, crystals disappearing under the crescents of water brushing against your shorts. “Why can life not just be… easy? Simple?”

Leon chuckles, face softening in sympathy. “Did you forget what I told you already?”

You lift your head, rubbing granules of sand against your nose to muffle your sniffling. “What?” His grin is somehow both brighter than the moon and darker than the water you can’t see through.

“A smooth sea never makes a skilled sailor.”

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

Eyes Wide Shut

Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell x Reader

Description: You once thought you'd found the love of your life. But love isn't supposed to drain away, leaving the vestiges of its warmth behind, leaving you numb and unfeeling. Yet that is exactly where you've found yourself. You've spent longer than you know pretending to be in love. One romantic dinner gone cold is the straw that breaks the camel's back. Finding your Grandmother's typewriter languishing in the garage when you thought it lost? The catalyst. Your friends had warned you. You didn't believe them. Now, you're taking your life back and he doesn't have a place in it anymore.

Warnings: Angst, Cheating (Implied), End of a Relationship, Angsty

Word Count: 3174

A/N: Hiya Lovelies!

I'm back! I hope you all enjoy this one-shot. I have to thank @sarahsmi13s for reading this fic over and steering me the right way. Thanks Vin! This fic is inspired by the Illenium and Avril Lavigne song, Eyes Wide Shut.

AO3: Cross-posted here!

Wattpad: Cross-posted here!

The candle flickers and gutters, wax dripping down the stubby remains of the taper. You’ve been sitting in silence for hours. Dinner is long cold in front of you, two pristine place settings waiting for the food, carefully arranged on the serving platters. You made his favorite meal, not that you've enjoyed a morsel of it. The only thing touched on your side of the table is your wine glass. Crimson prints dot the clear crystal rim, and the bottle of wine you opened for your anniversary is empty. You can’t remember the last time you saw your boyfriend. It feels like you only ever see each other in passing, stealing moments for a quick smile, a short exchange of words. You always find the time to tell him you love him, a phrase he presses into your temple before he rushes out of the door. But you’re not sure you believe the words anymore. Telling yourself you’re fine doesn’t seem to work anymore, either.

It’s your anniversary, and your boyfriend’s not here. Shouldn’t you feel something at this moment? Sad? Angry? Worried? You don’t feel much of anything anymore. It feels like you’ve been muffled in cotton batting for months. Those late nights when your house feels like a mausoleum, you wish you were anywhere but in San Diego. Once upon a time, everything felt different.

The peals of your laughter rang through the empty house. It’s your first house, and despite all of the boxes in the center of the room, you had been trying to paint the walls of your bedroom. Trying was the key word. There was more paint on your face and your boyfriend’s face than there is on the walls. Pete had been smearing bright blue over your skin, as you tried and failed to stop him. Of course you gave as good as you got. You still remember how there had been flakes of cerulean spiraling from his dark hair, scattered like freckles across his muscular shoulders.

You can still remember the joy in this room, how the sun had transformed the blue into warmth akin to the most placid of ocean waves. Now it feels like you're drowning.

“Pete!” 

You’d squealed the words as he pressed you into the wall, hard lean muscles and smooth skin weighing into you, with an impish smile crinkling the corners of his green eyes. He had paint, wet and glistening, on the palm of his hand as he brought it closer and closer to your torso.

“Nuh-uh, beautiful.” His grin made your heart skip a beat, once. “You know how much I like touching you when I kiss you.”

“I like you touching me when you're not covered in the paint, which should be on our wall, Peter.”

Your tone was only half-chiding. You'd ended up with more paint on yourself than your walls. But you hadn’t minded. That night ended like so many nights did between you and Pete in the beginning. There were cheap bottles of red wine opened in a half-painted room with a box of pizza open on your makeshift cardboard coffee table as the two of you swayed gently to music blaring out of the boombox sitting on the tarp covered floor.

Looking at the room, still half-painted four years later, doesn't bring you joy anymore, only pain. Once upon a time the two of you held as much potential as the streaks of paint did on the wall. You were supposed to make a life together. Piece by piece every brick of your dreams had been dismantled. It should be horrifying that you are only realizing it now, at half past 11 on your fifth anniversary.

But the truth is, you can’t remember how long it has been since you smiled. Pete used to make you smile every day, what with his endearing habit of singing off key and grabbing hold of you every chance he got. You used to shriek in laughter as he twirled you around, peppering kisses into the tender skin behind the hollows of your ears, the delicate skin of your inner wrists. Now, when you smile into the mirror you look deranged, the faux curl of your lips evident in the half light of the bedroom you used to share with Pete. Only half the bed is mussed, holding the shape of your body and your body alone. It's been at least a month or so since you've seen Pete in the house you still share on paper. 

He's not deployed. It’s been months since Pete was deployed. Anyways, the deployments, sparse and sporadic as they are, you believe you’ve handled with aplomb. At least when Pete is deployed you are able to call him on the phone. Now, even if you call, you're not sure he'll even pick up.

After Goose, after the Leyte Gulf, Pete came back to San Diego and accepted a post at Top Gun. You’d bought the house with Pete then, looking forward to settling down, spreading out roots. Bradley and Carole were still in town, needing to be close to the only family they had left. You welcomed their presence in your life, welcomed the stability and calm they brought about in Pete.

Now, you're not sure the man you loved is even there anymore. Back then, you'd have sworn Pete Mitchell was the love of your life. You're not sure when you fell out of love with him. You remember the ghosts of how that love felt, how the warmth of it had fanned across your cheeks and hovered in the hollow of your chest. But those feelings are just memories, now. The warmth you felt once has waned, ice growing in your chest where the flames once licked. 

You know Pete's not coming home tonight. A part of you had been hoping still. But as the clock ticks past the midnight hour and continues onward, you have to give up on your fledgling hope. If there was any love you still felt for Pete Mitchell, it's gone now. But you can’t bring yourself to care about the love you lost. All you can think about is what to do next.

There's nothing left for you here, in this house with its half-blue halls and echoes of your happiness. So why are you crying when you see your reflection in the mirror as you take off your new dress and rip your lingerie uncaringly away? You had plans for tonight. In another life, Pete would have been home at 6 o’clock on the dot, a bunch of red roses clenched in his fist. He’d have blushed at the sight of you in the scanty fabric of your dress, then said a line which would have had your blush joining his. The dinner congealing on your dining table? By now, it should have been just crumbs, as should the cake in the fridge. 

You wish you were dancing with Pete, swaying with your head over his heart as his hands curl around you. Once Pete’s hands were the safest place you knew. You used to trust him with your life, your heart. Now, tears trail down your cheeks from your swollen red eyes, evidence that Pete is no longer here to wipe them away. Even the clothes you prefer to lounge in are his. Everything in the bedroom is like he left it, just as you are. The worst part is how you can’t even find it in yourself to be angry with him. He pulled away first, but you didn’t chase after him either. Did you change without him? Or did he change without you?

It’s time to take stock of your life. What happened to the girl who was out celebrating her PhD at a Navy bar with her friends? You’d never have met Pete if you had stayed home that night like you sorely wanted to. You’d never have given up the job you had lined up in New York and settled into the life of a trophy girl if you hadn't met him. 

What happened to that girl? The one who wanted to become a journalist? Who wanted to write the next great American Novel or win the Pulitzer Prize? Have you written a word in the years since? Words other than notes to buy groceries or love notes to Pete?

When did Peter Mitchell snip your wings so completely, shackling you to the rise and fall of his career? 

Your lipstick streaks across your face as you wipe the tears away, smearing crimson across your cheeks. They’re as hot as the anger burning in you, because you can’t stay here, not anymore. You wanted Pete to propose when you woke up this morning, sure he was just busy at the office. Obviously the opposite is true now. You’ve just been completely, obtusely, ridiculously stupid.

Tom, sweet, kind Tom, one of your only friends in San Diego, had tried to warn you, too.

“You know what he’s like, he’s so in love with you!” 

He’d murmured one summer afternoon last year when you were over at the Kazanskys, loving cuddling with Tom and Sarah’s eldest boy, who was nine months old and gorgeous. “He’s always running out of work early to come home to you.”

Your heart should have broken when you heard those words.

“Tom, Pete’s missed dinner every night for months. He said he’s had a ton of paperwork to finish on base.”

At first you had missed the dismay growing on your friend's face, wholly occupied by the baby's giggles as you blew raspberries onto his chubby cheeks. The silence clued you in. When you look up, there are twin spots of red rising up on his cheeks and his hair is awry.

“He told me he was coming home to you.”

You had shrugged a little, choosing to focus your attention on the baby in your arms so you can’t see the expression on his face.

“I’m sure everything’s fine, Tom. This is Pete we’re talking about here! He wouldn’t cheat or lie!”

“But sweetheart, he is lying, isn't he? God knows I am fond of him, but you shouldn't let him treat you like that! Are you sure you don’t want to figure out what he is doing?”

It was easy to brush Tom off after that exchange, in the middle of a barbeque with people he hasn’t seen in months waiting to catch up. You’d ignored Sarah too, once the baby was in bed for the night and only close friends were left, when there was nobody for you to hide behind. 

You’d loved Pete enough to ignore the red flags hoisting up the flagpole. The blindfold has fallen off of your face now. You can’t deny the facts anymore. Pete’s lying to everyone. He’s lying to his friends. He’s lying to you. Worst of all, he’s treating you like you’re not worth the space you hold in the world. It would hurt less, you think, if he just had the decency to break up with you.

But he hadn’t. You’re not sure he ever will. It’s a little ironic, isn’t it? That the man is more than willing to strap himself to a rocket at high speeds and shoot at other people strapped to rockets moving at high speeds, but he can’t talk to you. The woman he loves, the woman he loved enough to string along. The woman who sacrificed her core being for him.

This is the last straw. You’re not going through this again. All the fights, all the tears, the pain, the despair. You’re done. You’re drawing the line in the sand. 

Two hours later, and the bedroom where you once laid your head to sleep every night as well as the home you built, is emptier than it’s been since before you moved in. Only Pete’s things are left arrayed around the place. It doesn’t feel like home anymore without your cheerful blanket laid across the foot of the bed, and without your cardigan laid over the chair of Pete’s office desk. It should be sad how easy it is to pack your life away - to split everything in the house into his and yours. But you can’t be sad.

Not when you clamber carefully up the ladder in the garage and see your typewriter, your vintage, lovingly-cared-for typewriter, the only inheritance you received from your grandmother, sitting on the shelf in its carrying case. When Pete and you had moved in together, he’d told you the typewriter had been lost by the post office, lost when your parents shipped it across the country. The rage simmering in your blood heats to a fever pitch. You can forgive a lot of Pete’s actions over the past five years and accept an equal share of the blame for how your relationship has deteriorated. But you can’t forgive how easily he dismissed your dreams.

Your car is loaded up with everything you can rightfully say you own. You’re taking the typewriter with you, of course you are. Somehow, it doesn’t feel right, leaving without saying a final goodbye. So you type your heart out, writing a letter to the man you once thought would be the love of your life. You leave it lying on the pristine dining table, all the leftovers discarded. The sun is just peeking out on the horizon, over the deep blue waves of the Pacific Ocean as you drive away from everything you’ve called home for the past five years. You’re finally free.

Dear Pete,

I’m leaving you.

I didn’t realize it would feel like this to say those words. I’m sad, of course I am. I hoped we would be forever once. I hoped beyond hope we could build a life together. I hoped we could settle down, have a family of our own. I realized today that my dreams were never going to happen. My dreams are always going to be working towards an opposite goal from yours, aren’t they? Do you even know what it is like to want something that doesn't involve you risking your life to fly in a jet faster than the speed of sound?

People have always commented that you and I were an odd pair. I refused to believe it, but sitting in the half light of our dining room on the night of our fifth anniversary, a night where I don’t know where you are, I think I might be starting to. 

On paper, you and I shouldn't have worked. You're a Naval Aviator, smart and devilishly handsome. You can have anyone, anything you want and you have the stubbornness, the will to make it happen, too. In contrast, I was a twenty-something just out of school. School was all I knew. I remember feeling so exhilarated that night at the O-Club. The world was full of promise. I wasn't looking for anything, but like I said, you’ve never had a problem fighting for what you want. You also didn't have a problem convincing me that what you wanted was what I wanted - but that is besides the point.

It was your ability to fight for what you believed in that had me falling head-over-heels for you. It was easy to shelve my dreams, everything I was hoping to achieve with my PhD, for you. You were worth deferring my dreams because I knew then that you would fight for me, for us. Apparently I was wrong. 

Tom told me the truth at Parker's first birthday party. He told me you were leaving work early, carrying bouquets of flowers, seemingly for me. His face when I told him I've barely seen you in months? The horror and shock in it? I don't relish causing our friends pain. So I made excuses. I've been making excuses for years, after all.

“Sorry, mom. Pete's deployed so he won't be coming home with me for the holidays. I worry about him, but I know he's doing alright. I just spoke to him on the phone the other day and he sent you his love.”

“I’m sorry, Sarah! Pete's running a little late. He wouldn't miss Parker's first birthday!”

I can't make those excuses for you anymore - not to our friends and family and not to myself.

So how come you haven’t given me flowers in two years but you've been leaving work holding bouquets almost every night? I guess it's a question I'll never get an answer for. There's one other thing bothering me. You're a straight-shooter, Pete. You always have been. So why, if you fell out of love with me, did you not just tell me?

Were you scared of the response you'd get? Were you scared you would break my heart? 

My heart's a little battered and bruised, but it's far from broken, Pete. I'm sad, sad to lose a relationship I've put effort into for five years of my life, but I'm not heartsore about the loss. Instead, I'm angry. I'm angry that I wasted five years of my life being shoved into a box by you. I loved you, but I hated, I still hate, how easy it was for you to discount me, discount my aspirations. We were supposed to be equal partners in this relationship. I was never supposed to be the woman waiting at home for you to come back, the kind who has dinner on the table prompt at 6:30. I wanted to live my life, too. My career, my hopes, wants and dreams were always supposed to be equal to yours. It's my biggest shame that I let you convince me they weren't.

I haven't been in love with you for a long time. I've been telling you I loved you on muscle memory, the words of affection tasting like ashes in my mouth because my heart wasn't behind them. I’m not sure who I was protecting, you or myself. Especially when it’s obvious the loss is more of a blow to me than it is to you.

Despite it all, Pete, I am thankful for the good times we had. I will miss the nights sitting in the living room with a cheap bottle of red open and records playing. I will miss the early mornings where you and I would list against each other half asleep at the kitchen table, our feet intertwined in the morning sunlight as we sat in each other’s company. Above all, I think I’ll miss the sensation of knowing someone as deeply, as intimately as I once knew you.

I’ve spoken to Carole and little Bradley, Tom and Sarah and Parker, all of our friends, our family. They know how to reach me, they’ve been ordered to stay in touch. You’ll forgive me if I don’t extend the same offer to you. I think I need the space from you. I think you need the space from me too. 

I hope, Pete, you find who and what you’re looking for.

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN ON AO3, ON WATTPAD, OR ON TUMBLR BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN AO3, ON WATTPAD, OR TUMBLR, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

Taglist:

@desert-fern @sarahsmi13s @horseshoegirl @dakotakazansky @teacupsandtopgun @roosterforme @beyondthesefourwalls @cherrycola27 @chaoticassidy @kmc1989 @blue-aconite

[str4ngr]

👋hii

For the Christmas request:

Satoru

Prompt: hey look it's snowing

My idea??: walking through the Christmas market with gojo backhugging reader *lip bite emoji*

With a cold, introverted reader pls!

Thanku

ⓑⓔⓐⓤⓣⓨ [ 𝚐𝚘𝚓𝚘 𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚞 ]

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓; �� Look! Look! it's snowing!"

cw: none, fluff, mutual pining, cold, introverted, gn! reader.

Even with mitten on your hands, the cold air was not any kinder to your fingertips.

The two of you walked together, hands stuffed in your pockets, worshiping the shiny craftsman ship of Christmas ornaments, cards, wrapping, trinkets, gifts, all littered around you like stars.

Of course, climate isn't something too avoidable, so as you and your company walked, Gojo having more of a strut, the cold air picked up, and the sun hid behind the clouds.

"You know what this means!"

His voice rang in your ear as a joyful bell, pulling the corners of your lips into a subtle smile.

"Yes, Gojo, yes I-"

"Look! Look! It's snowing!!"

And it indeed was. Soft, plush, minuscule flakes descending from the dreary sky. Habitually, maybe instinctually, both you raised your hands reached to grasp the snowflakes, knowing they would melt with contact. It was slow, gentle flakes touching and dissolving at every object around you.

His hair was already white, but it glittered like a diamond as each snowflake took hold, the sprinkled rays of sunlight reflecting off of each droplet. His eyes peaking under his cover as he looks toward you, the glimmering ornaments of celebration framing his face like a picture, glowing like the moon among the night.

He was undeniably gorgeous, and you knew that the moment you look into his cerulean eyes you couldn't keep a straight face. So you didn't, you kept your eyes away, blamed the blush on your cheeks on cold air rather than your imagination.

He laughed beside you, collecting the snow in his palms with a grin. Of course, he was him, and he naturally began to try to throw it at you. You gasped, glaring at him with a smile pulling at the corner of your lips, your hand picking up what little snow there was on the floor of Tokyo streets to throw back at him.

You snarl at him as he grins and laughs, dramatically tripping over his feet,

"You merciless monster!"

He cries, bystanders staring at him in confusion and disdain. The eyes intimidate you, he knows, the way you move three steps ahead to seem as though you don't associate with him, reaching the end of the pop-up market.

Even with your feeble, playful attempt at getting him off your tail, you failed.

A man who could never touch, never feel the contact of another casually, without thought, let his barrier go. Wrapped around you, slipping between your arms and tugging around your waist lazily, his rouge-tinted lips brushing your ear,

"You're just so mean."

You froze, probably from being flustered, but you'd like to blame the snow. But you didn't pull away, letting your eyes wander to the snow-covered bricks of the sidewalk. Your breath mingled with his, hot air turning white in the cold air. The end of the market, where the two of you stood, trapped in his arms as he waited for your reply.

To him, it didn't matter what you said, if you protested without movement, if your grumbled and mumbled. All he had to acknowledge was that he held you as snow fell around your bodies, his warmth pressing into your back. He sighed into your scarf once more,

"I know you never mean it when your mean."

You smile, unable to cold the smile that broke past your face as you glanced towards him,

"Don't be so sure, Satoru."

⋆⁺₊❅.···········································································································.❅₊⁺⋆

didn't know how to end it again i need to learn to problem solve. anyways thank you sm for the rq and sorry for taking so long!!!

directory

❅ 🅂🄽🄾🅆 & 🅂🄽🅄🄶🄶🄻🄴🅂 ❅

[firapolemos05]

Deceitful

@whumpuary AO3

Prompt 1

Captivity | Snow

Prompt 8

Muffled screams

CW: captivity, slave whump, left out in the cold, nonhuman whumpee, lady whumper, restraints, muzzles, slapping

The Champion taglist: @emmettverse , @ostensiblyfunctional , @scoundrelwithboba

It wasn't usual for the Cerulean Crescent to receive snowfall, but on occasion there'd be a winter where the temperatures drop low enough.

When you're located higher up in altitude - like Master Scarlet's manor, rested on the mountainside overlooking the valley below - the likelihood increases.

The Champion assumed the view would be appealing to those with a taste for luxury. At least when it wasn't obstructed by the darkness of night and the drowning haze of a snowstorm. He guessed many would find a more clear daytime view a pleasing sight, like a painting in a museum.

He himself never saw the appeal.

He never did like the cold.

Snow was cruelly deceitful. From afar the crystalline flakes looked harmless, coating the outside world in what many compare to a pristine, white fluffy blanket.

Another gust of bitter wind rattled his bones, and the Champion tried and failed again to pull his trembling limbs against his core in effort to keep warm. The thin silks draped over his body provided little protection.

Snow crystals were more akin to tiny knives if you asked him. Their gelid touch searing his toes where he stood. He spent several minutes earlier trying to clear away all the snow beneath his feet, but the shackles at his ankles didn't grant him much room.

He had messed up again.

Master had a guest over, some rich businessman dressed with the money he'd leached from his workers and customers. His jewelry by itself would probably pay for several bets for the Champion’s ring matches. The fabrics had so many ostentatious colors the tiefling had a hard time telling which garment was which.

Master had ordered him to serve the two. So he relayed refreshments back and forth from the servant tending the bar and the servant arriving from the kitchen. Of course, he wasn't permitted to touch any of the food or drinks, not even with his stomach gnawing in protest. The Champion’s only purpose there was to obey, be silent, and look pretty.

It certainly wasn't pretty when he tripped over the edge of the rug and sent two full glasses of red wine spilling onto the man's expensive outfit.

A desperate apology was halfway past his lips when a backhand struck him across the face. Rings painted red onto his cheek. Pain rang in his ears, dulling the sound of the man's furious yelling.

Master said not a word, but closed the distance between them before the Champion could recover. One hand waved and a spell lifted the stains from her guest's clothes. After calling for a servant to come assist the man, her other hand snatched her pet by his horns and began dragging him towards the balcony.

He knew by now that resisting would make things worse.

It hadn't been his first time on the outdoor space. When it was warm out, and when he was being well behaved, Master would allow him to accompany her outside. But tonight the cold was wet and unforgiving and the Champion was to be punished.

Master must've planned for this at some point. There were already metal chains bolted to the brick exterior wall waiting for him.

Their frigid bite snapped right to the bone.

How long has it been since she left him there? Hours? It definitely felt like it. The lashing winds seemed endless and the Champion stood unable to shield himself. The chains forced his limbs apart and all he could do was press his fingers into his palms, press his raised arms against his ears, and curl his tail around his waist. Granting meager solace to vulnerable extremities from the icy curtains raining down.

It didn't help much.

He wished he could scream. He'd already tried. Tried to call to his master and plead to be spared further torment from the elements. But it was no use with the muzzle. Master had strapped it to his face right before heading back to the heated comfort of the indoors. All his cries were muffled before they ever had a chance to echo off the mountainside.

He kept his eyes squeezed shut, afraid that the stinging gales would freeze any tears to his face. That's likely why he didn’t notice Master approach until she was snapping her fingers to get the tiefling’s attention.

He didn't understand how the frozen night wasn't bothering her.

The shackles released him, letting him fall into the snow when his feet were too numb to support his body. The wet sapped at fleeting body heat but he was too cold and too tired to do anything but shiver where he laid.

“Well?” Master’s voice rang clear above him, unfazed and apathetic. “Do you wish to return inside or not?”

Oh. So she was expecting him to drag himself back this time.

At least forcing himself to crawl across the balcony brought some feeling back into his hands.

The blissful embrace of the fireplace's warmth was only slightly dampened by Master making him apologize to the man for the spilled wine.

It was dampened far more when, instead of allowing him to curl up on the hearth, to chase away the chills trapped against his skin, she ordered him to the couch to lie in her lap.

The Champion hated how easily he submitted to it. Even more than the snow.

[streamdotpng]

I was going to write this in Wednesday's POV, but she got to have 'Her scars are pink, Her eyes are blue' so Enid gets this one :)

(Also, I love you noticing that the pink in her hair and scars would leave and her eyes would remain. 'Her scars are pink' was just meant to be something representing Enid's colorful personality and brightness, but I don't think 'Her hair and scars and bedspread and dresses are pink, Her eyes are blue' would've hit the same. But I know what you meant. Maybe I could've fit it in as a one liner, like the "The scars would be pink, Her eyes would still be blue." I dunno.

Who knows, maybe someone could make it work.

Also, I adore reading your thoughts and reactions to my writing. It's nice to scream words of love and caring relationships into the void and have it scream praise back.)

Enid's never liked black.

That's dramatic, but when isn't she? She doesn't mind black, it can complement another color greatly! But it's so. Dull. Dead. Devoid of fun and pep and springiness.

She doesn't have a favorite color. They're all too pretty and expressive to pick just one.

Green is healing and quiet and gentleness. It's the quiet of the forest after a big storm, before the water has evaporated and restarted the water cycle. It's wet blades of grass and cold leaves.

Teal, viridian, forest.

Red is bright and loud and confident. It's here and makes it everyone else's problem and never for a minute thinks it should change itself for someone else.

Pink, maroon, crimson.

Blue is sweet and shy and humble and mysterious. Aware of it's faults and accepting of them but not yielding to them, not bowing nor wallowing in them. Forgiving and listening.

Aqua, cobalt, cerulean.

Yellow is snappy, sharp and quick and bouncy. Unforgiving in itself and yet so giving. Yellow is burning sun and relaxing dawn.

Aureolin, gold, canary.

Every color has a value. A meaning, a reason.

Except black.

Black is... sad. Dark, rainy clouds and thundering skies and decay and death and nightmares. Where's the fun? The light, the pizazz, the razzle dazzle? It's unforgiving and loud and quiet and shy and sharp and quick.

Enid Sinclair dislikes black.

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

Wednesday Addams is a weird roommate. That's not wrong nor mean.

She's weird as shit.

She's dark and a nightmare to be around. Quick-witted and sharp-tongued and dressed in too much black.

She's morbid, too. Obsessed with death and decay and rot and hate and sorrow.

Enid doesn't get it. Why would someone want to be sad? Angry? Mad?

It's so weird. She acts like a little pink would kill her. Like a lil' splash of gold on the cuffs of her blazer out cause her some great sickness!

At least she has some white on, other Enid fears she be better at stealth and scaring the fuck out of people.

Her freckles are dark against the pale of her nose and cheeks.

(Enid's counted them when Wednesday fell asleep at her desk once.)

(93.)

Her eyes are dark.

(So, so dark. Enid's looked so far in her eyes she knows they're gorgeously dark brown, not true black. There's flakes of gold in them. Enid wants to put gold on her cuffs and gold eyeshadow on Wednesday and watch it bring out the perfectly dark brown of her eyes.)

Her hair is dark.

(Enid wants to braid and style and touch it.)

Enid Sinclair is confused by black.

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

They made it to 2nd year, against whatever gods try to off them.

Enid killed Tyler.

She finds it brings her some morbid comfort. She's safe. Thing is safe. Her friends are safe.

Wednesday is safe.

Enid no longer knows how to feel about black.

Black was what she felt when she wolfed out. Decay and death and nightmares.

Unforgiving and loud and quiet and shy and sharp and quick.

Black was darkness of the crypt and the forest.

Black was what she saw when her eyes were to sensitive to look and use after wolfing out because apparently turning means kicking those senses into high gear for a bit and mom never told her because she was so confident that Enid would never wolf out and fuck why can't she just be supported by her for once-

Black is almost Wednesday's eyes and was her clothing and hair and freckles and hair and scent (dark black coffee, dark black fresh ink, dark black belladonna berries) and Wednesday's dark black personality and-

Black is a safe color.

Safe.

She didn't think she'd feel so safe around the color of death.

Enid learns Wednesday does have color in her wardrobe, she just hides it.

There's the green in the expensive gems in her earrings.

Healing and quiet and gentle.

Viridian.

She owns this really nice red jacket. It makes her exude this warmth that Enid wants to burrow into. It makes her seem more... refined. Classy. Confident.

Maroon.

She has a dagger with a beautiful blue crystal in. Enid asked what it was- Wednesday gave her an ominous "wouldn't you like to know?" Sweet and mysterious. She doesn't wallow in her faults and doesn't yield to them. When Enid breaks down in their dorm, speaks of the way her mother treats her and how she wishes she could be better for some approval for once- Wednesday listens. She listens and forgives her when she snaps. She listens and she forgives.

Aqua.

Wednesday is snappy and sharp and quick. She doesn't apologize for her existence and when Enid quietly requests affection too close and intimate for two normal friends, she gives it.

Gold.

There's black around them all, though. And that's confusing.

Her gems are surrounded by a black metal casing, hidden in dark hair.

The inside of her maroon jacket is solid black. Well worn.

The dagger has the most exquisite obsidian black handle, the sheath it sits in is black.

Enid was incorrect and correct all at once.

Wednesday's eyes are a perfect almost-black brown.

When the lights shift and hit just right, they're all black charcoal. Waiting for a spark.

The gold in her eyes are hidden and obfuscated by black.

Sometimes by an almost-black brown.

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

"Willa?"

"Yes?"

"What's your favorite color?"

"Pink and blue. What's yours?"

She stare at black hair in dark lighting, black clothing hidden in black sheets and throw blankets and quilts.

Black-brown eyes with little sprinkles of gold and love and warmth.

"Black."

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

It's silly to not have a favorite color. There's something good in them all.

There's bad in all of them.

Pick what you like most. Simple.

Enid Sinclair has a favorite color.

Enid Sinclair loves black.

-Writer Anon.

God, just JAJWUAKFUAIDKDND

I don't have a reaction image bc I don't download them but sometimes having an image helps alot so have this

IT'S SO GOOD FUCKKK

WE LOVE ENID ACCEPTING HER LOVE FOR BLACK.

Black used to be empty, of nothing except a placeholder for darkness and the bugs that hide in it. It's the creak of a rusty door in deep basement, the howl of the wind in a damp forest.

Now it's filled with the memory of a person. Black is the color that filled Enid's vision that night she wolf's out. Black is the clothes her love wears as she hugs the person most deer to her. Black is the blanket thrown over them as the moon lights the sky.

BLACK IS FUCKING AMAZING AND IDK HOW TO END IT SO JUST HAVE THAT

Imma die, this is so cute

I'm happy for them

And happy for Enid too, bc im writing her time in jail and it didn't go good at all 💀 so like, warning for Enid going insane ig

[kirfluffbon]

mmm

[viking-raider]

A Witcher's Legacy - Part Three: Untitled (Snippet)

How you loved them, with the small flake of warm amber at the bottom corner of his left eye, yet another undeniable clue to his paternal relation, it was like a coin dropped in a calm sea, of their otherwise cerulean blue.

[movedtoferinehuntress]

PREPPING THE SPECIAL TEA PARTY GUEST

Trigger Warnings: This is written with implied notes of cannibalism that something Jinx would do, as well as references of indirect visualizations of sexual harassment and invasion of privacy. Ultimately, this is a VERY DARK AND HORROR INDUCED THEME and twisted scene before the tea party, where Jinx takes out her anger on the person she believes is stealing her sister. It has graphic written displays of violence and mutilation as well as hallucinations and bodily autonomy stripped away.

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED! Jinx is inspired and written based on @shimmerbeasts Jinx.

Caitlyn’s eyes struggled to open past the ache of irritation of the impact on her head. Disorientation blinded her vision as she shook her head to reset her mindset. Slowly, she lifted her head and pressed it against the back of the wall. The entire area felt humid and damp as she focused on piecing together what had happened and where she currently sat. Cerulean eyes opened up as she forced herself to push past the strain and catch her bearing. The sooner she could accomplish her focus, the better off she would be. Rusted old rubble covered the entire zone. The insufficient sliver of light that filtered through showed flakes of age over metal and dirt, and cobwebs in the corners of spaces. Despite decrepit age, not a sound came from the abandoned warehouse, adding an ominous, eerie silence. It was then she could smell of stagnation and mustiness of the residue dirt. The rubble against her back sent a chill down her spine as she lifted away. Damp coldness chilled her bare skin, registering her nudity.

The only sight of color was the pinkish purple veins weaving and twisting around the rubble. Small veins reflected the moonlight that filtered through the abandoned warehouse. Like an old wound that still lived, pulsing with a slight purple flash from time to time, something that reminded her of the growth upon Husk’s head. Living, thriving in this worn space as if nothing could kill the virus within its roots.

A groan left Caitlyn’s lips, still trying to gather her bearing, when the memory flashed through her mind. Purple eyes; demeaned and twisted a glimmer of white as fangs flashed in the mirror. She lunged for her door to get her weapon (placed in her bedroom) but then it filled with gas. Pungent and strong, bitter against her nose as she tried to cover it. Nothing kept the fumes from filling her senses and it caused her to stumble and pass out. The memory flashed through her memory and caused Caitlyn’s eyes to widen.

“Dammit,” Caitlyn whispered, as she tried to move her wrist to the side to get up. Moving her head from the wall, she looked down to see her wrist bound with rope. She hissed in displeasure and twisted her wrist, only to rub against the harsh, unyielding hemp rope. Another set coiled over her arms and around her waist, tight enough that she couldn’t pull them up, and any movement caused the thick rope to scrap against bare arms. Any means of escape required a tool as Caitlyn scanned her surroundings. “Shit,” she whispered as she noted the same wrap encircled her ankles, but enough that she wouldn’t be running soon. It took all her willpower to muster down the alarm as she tried to access a way to get free. She examined her surroundings, pulling her legs back, and looked to her side to find a jagged piece of metal. A glint of one caught her eye, and she leaned down to grab it with her hand. Careful movements allowed her to twist it around and cut through the thick rope.

Rapid eye movement continued to scan the room, sharp eagle vision trying to find the one who did this. Her hands worked as quickly as she could, though with her position it was hard to handle the metal against the rope. It didn’t stop her though, as she just steadily worked at trying to get out of the restrictive position. Despite the humidity, chills nipped at Caitlyn’s naked flesh, as she jerked at a sound. Her eyes focused on the distance. Stone bounced on the ground but it was the flash of purple that made her suddenly look up. The eerie tone echoed in the room, bouncing off the walls like an echo. Rumbling guttural echoes caused a rush of terror, like a piece of meat being stalked by whatever demon lurked in the shadows. The vocalizations caused a whimper to leave Caitlyn’s lips involuntarily as she tried to cut faster and deeper into the rope. A sudden flash of blue and ripped the metal shard from her hand and thrown to the side. “Like I let you go that easy, enforcer,” the dark tone left the lips of the woman before her. “Jinx!” Caitlyn nearly shrieked, as she tried to push herself up against the way as sharp nails gripped at her jaw before slamming her into the ground. “We’ve barely even begun to have any fun,” The words echoed through Caitlyn’s ears though her head throbbed from the impact to the ground. The voice was distant at first, but then a steel toe boot met contact with her abdomen.

It caused all the air to rush out of her lungs and nausea hit her as quickly as her steel-toed boot did. Adrenaline flooded her system and cut off her ability to process or think. She curled into a fetal position, gasping for air as the effects stunned her for the second. The bitter taste of bile flooded her mouth as she continued to struggle to breathe. Pain erupted through her body now that she could recognize it after being blinded by the impact. Gasps of breath turned into a cough as tears pricked at the corner of her eyes from the anguish of pain. “Shit,” she finally sputtered out, pulling the air into her lungs as she fought against the ropes.

Fingers threaded through her blue hair, streaks of silver pulled alongside as she forced her to look up at her captor and glared through her glassy eyes. “What do you want?” Caitlyn tried to show defiantly, but it came out choked through her pained abdomen.

“You, dead.” Bitter words left her lips as Jinx pulled harder. The follicles at the base of her skull stung as Caitlyn gritted her teeth together, trying not to cry out in pain. “Then get on with it!” Caitlyn demanded, because she knew if Jinx wanted her dead, she would have already been dead when she broke into her house. There was something more here, something worse. A part of Caitlyn didn’t want to know as she tried this shift closer toward Jinx’s hand that pulled roughly against her hair. The predator’s other hand grabbed her jaw, forcing Caitlyn to stare at her. Shimmer infused eyes, eyes Caitlyn had never seen on Jinx before till now, bore into her with deadly intent. “And make it easy on you? No… you suffer first,” Nail-like claws bit against Caitlyn’s jaw, digging into her flesh and threatening to cut through. “I would cut up that face of yours, but I need Vi to see it. I need her to know who you are, so for now, you get to keep it; because I say so,” Jinx sneered, before letting go of Caitlyn’s hair and face as the she-wolf straddled Caitlyn’s stomach and her hand wrapped around her throat. Caitlyn’s eyes were full of fear now, as she shook her head to move away from the hands latching around her throat like a maw of teeth. Her feet kicked out as Jinx flipped a knife in her hand.

An earth shattering scream ripped through Caitlyn’s lips as the blade hit the wound on her left thigh. It cut through flesh and muscle and tissue, making the wound worse than it already had been from the bridge incident weeks ago. Tears streamed down her face as a fog passed over her eyes again, struggling desperately to pull on her hands to push Jinx away. Yet past the fog, she could see Jinx with a demented fanged grin staring down at her. Her body leaned closer, too close for Caitlyn’s liking as she tried to pull away from her. A bristled tongue brushed against her jaw and up her cheek to lick at her tears that fell from her eyes. Delight played in the loose cannon’s eyes, which caused Caitlyn to fight once more. “GET OFF!” she shouted, screaming past the pain as Jinx twisted the bloody blade in her hand. “I wonder what you taste like, hmm, Cupcake?”

The word instantly caused Caitlyn to freeze, as her breathing became rapid against her chest. Like a rapid river rushing through the ravine, all she could do was try to process what she just said. “How…” Jinx’s hands tightened around Caitlyn’s throat to silence her and cut off her air supply. “Like I didn’t know the infection you bled into my sister! She can only give nicknames to me!” The threat of no oxygen thumped against her might when Jinx let her throat go and she gasped back air once more. “But I’ll show Vi. I’ll show her just what kind of infection you are. You play the Zaunite, try to look like a Zaunite, but you’re nothing more than a Piltie, invading everything you touch. No, I’ll show her,” Jinx grinned, as she stood up and stared down at Caitlyn, eyes flicking over her entire body like a piece of meat. Caitlyn tried to cover herself up, feeling exposed and humiliated in her position as she struggled with the rope that now rubbed at her flesh and turned her ivory skin red from all the movements.

“Leave Vi out of this! This is between you and me!” Caitlyn shouted, her defiance kicking in. Instinct took over to protect Vi. It’s not like she knew she was here. Vi had left her on the steps of the council hall. The echoing memory still pained her; she knew Vi didn’t mean what she said. Everything pointed to Vi closing up, pushing Caitlyn away. It wasn’t the first time it had happened. She had done it several times before, and the draw of the hood was a protective measure. Whatever Vi was feeling, it twisted and turned and caused Vi to push everyone away. Bearing this weight on her own. Still, Caitlyn didn’t blame her; she had plans to go after her this morning if not for Jinx’s interference. But then the prickling fear ebbed away at her heart: it wasn’t just Vi who wouldn’t know. It included Jayce, her mother and father, and Viktor. None of them even knew she was missing! The sudden realization that no one would look for her sent dread coursing through her veins and the truth through her mind. She was going to die here.

Caitlyn’s outburst only angered the blue-braided Zaunite, as Jinx struck out with a hand and backhanded Caitlyn across the cheek. It left a pain echoing against her skin as she reached up and grabbed Caitlyn’s hair and dragged her against the ground. “I should sow that mouth shut, I know how to,” Darken words left Caitlyn pulling on her wrist again. “Ah! OW!” cries of pain ripped through her lips as she kicked out her feet. Uselessly, she tried to lift her head up to Jinx’s hand as her hair was like a rope to drag Caitlyn across the ground. She easily wrangled the woman as rock and stone scraped and cut against Caitlyn’s backside, leaving little tiny knicks with barely a droplet of blood sprouting from the spots.

“What does my sister see in you anyway, you’re too soft and fleshy,” Jinx sounded as if she talked more to herself then to Caitlyn despite her presence being there as Jinx dropped her back down to the ground and a grunt left her lips. The pain of her thigh dulled enough as Jinx put her foot on Caitlyn’s hip and shoved her over to lie on her stomach. That caused Caitlyn’s arms to be pinned down against the ground as she kicked her feet like a flopping fish. She growled angrily, trying to push back as Jinx dropped unceremoniously on top of her back, causing her spine to crack a few times and knocked the air from her lungs. She crossed her legs and pressed a hand against her shoulder blades, forcing Caitlyn down further as she twisted her head to look over her shoulder. “Dammit Jinx! Get the fuck off of me!” Irrational anger gripped the former-enforcer, her adrenaline pumping faster causing a mass production of hormones that steamed all in her anger and covering up the fear she experienced. Fingers brushed over her shoulders, playing with the iridescent blue feathers. And then suddenly Jinx pulled on out. Caitlyn flinched, not out of pain but discomfort as the sensation coursed through the nerves. A giggle echoed and then another pluck came, and then soon one after another. Dread coursed through Caitlyn’s chest, burning against her shoulders as her feathers spread and fluff up, matching the fear and trying to look bigger than she was. Each pull of a feather made her twist and turn, as she tightened her eyes shut, trying not to think about what Jinx was doing; taking away the physical protection to herself but also destroying a part of herself. A hiss left her lips when claws gripped into the back of her neck and Jinx slammed her harder against the ground.

“Stop trying to sound like a Zaunite! You're not one, you fucking Piltie. You don’t even deserve these feathers. Trying to look like an animal, trying to mimic our ways. Liar.” The words dripped like poison, stinging at Caitlyn’s chest as she suddenly felt a flood of discomfort as Jinx’s hand wrapped around a bundle of feathers and ripped them out. Her nails scraped against sensitive flesh underneath the feathers as she kicked her feet. No one had not touched the burns in months; the feathers had done their job to protect her from any kind of sensation. Another giggle left Jinx’s lips as she leaned downward to whisper into Caitlyn’s ear. “Oh, did that hurt little birdie?” The question came as Caitlyn bared her teeth, her eyes flicking over her shoulder with no words. Nails still pressed against her neck, keeping her down against the ground as claws dragged against her burns and Caitlyn shuddered, a cry of anguish. “Well, first we have to clip the wings, and then…” Jinx’s voice went quiet as Caitlyn struggled when Jinx pressed a finger against her shoulder blade.

“What is this?” The vitriolic tone cracked as Caitlyn tried to shift her shoulder upward, refusing to answer. “ANSWER ME!” Jinx shoulder as she pulled Caitlyn up by the neck and slammed her head down against the ground. Spotted fluttered against her eyes, a slight abrasion against her temple as she growled before speaking. “A fucking tattoo,” Caitlyn demanded, as she could feel jinx’s nails tracing along the violet flowers, but it wasn’t a delighted sensation. The claws dragged over her skin, digging in harder before Jinx let out a yell and claws ripped through Caitlyn’s flesh around her tattoo. Caitlyn screamed, kicking at her feet as she heard the wild woman screaming.

“YOU MARK YOUR SKIN WITH MY SISTER’S NAME! YOU THINK YOU CAN CLAIM HER BY PUTTING A TATTOO ON YOUR BACK! WELL, I’LL SHOW YOU!” The sudden volatile wave of emotions slammed into Caitlyn’s chest. It burned, like fire and ice combined, charring at the edges of her chest, freezing her fingertips. She couldn’t properly block any emotions, and the sudden wave of madness and frenzy overtook her mental capacity as she shook her head. “IT’S NOT ABOUT VI!” Caitlyn shouted, because it was the truth. Her tattoo had been personal, involving the flowers of violets within her garden. A place of safety and comfort.

Now her tattoo enraged the shimmer monster on her back.

“LIAR!” Nails dug into Caitlyn’s tattoo, through her flesh and skin, as Jinx kept them there. “Shut up!” Jinx shouted, as Caitlyn looked confused at first, the way the woman shouted. Jinx wasn’t looking down at her, but this time in the corner. “I’m busy! No, No I’m not going to kill her! Not yet anyway! Would you shut it!” Her nails dug deeper into Caitlyn’s shoulder as she shuddered with a cry of torment. Blood seeped from the wound, scatter across her back like a branching stream of rivers, twisting as they slid down her skin.

The nails pulled from her shoulder and from her neck as the weight left her body. Freedom. Caitlyn turned past the spots of her eyes, seeing Jinx walking away muttering to herself. Immediately, Caitlyn twisted back around and wiggled like a worm, trying to move toward anything she could use to break free. Her bottom lip pressed between her teeth, biting down so hard she might draw blood. The movement of her body rolling left-to-right put pressure on her thigh and it burned like a fire. Still, she persisted, refusing to just lay here and expose her belly to let Jinx murder her. Even if Caitlyn felt the impending doom of death on her doorstep, she wouldn’t give up. The infinitesimal ability Caitlyn had to stop Jinx didn’t matter; she would make her work for this.

Shards of glass glistened against the light that filtered through from the candles that were lit. She could see a small glimmer of light near a doorway, the sunlight from outside. A hint of freedom that Caitlyn desperately yearned to reach. Each roll, each wiggle, yet still too far from the glass. She just needed to work a little harder, and…

“Where do you think you’re going?” Jinx laughed, as she reached down to grab Caitlyn’s ankles and whipped her around onto her back. “No no no, you sneaky little bitch,” Caitlyn yowled in anger as she kicked her feet against Jinx’s side and the Zaunite only seemed to revel in the antics of Caitlyn’s fight. The fear pulsated off of Caitlyn like perfume, and the loose cannon enjoyed every second of the struggle. “Get your spirit forsaken hands off of me NOW!” Each word constantly felt like the droning of a broken record. Caitlyn knew Jinx would not listen and yet she couldn’t do anything else but fight back with her words. Bloodshot eyes stared up in anger and fear at the woman who dragged her across the ground. Writhing like a worm on a hook, Caitlyn tried to resist, to pull away, but Jinx had the upper hand. A predator playing with her prey as she dropped Caitlyn’s legs.

Fingers grabbed Caitlyn’s shoulders and picked her up, her eyes round like a moon and unsure of what Jinx planned, when she twirled her around like a ballerina doll and shoved against a table. Her chest pressed down against the cold metal and Jinx’s body pressed flushed behind her. Hips against her rear, as Caitlyn shook her head. It was an invasion of her privacy, too close for comfort. Immediately Caitlyn tried to force herself up, to get away from the angle of the position, but Jinx grabbed her neck and shoved her back down against the table. “Please, keep fighting. It’ll only make the kill more delicious,” Jinx purred, leaning over as Caitlyn shuddered. “You fucking psychopath!!” Caitlyn snapped as she felt Jinx’s body pressed firmly against her clammy skin. Jinx’s teeth scraped against her ear, nipping roughly at it, and she heard a guttural purr. “I prefer... creative,” Jinx taunted, and then grabbed a leather strap. The weight disappeared for a moment, only to feel the pressure of a belt bound to her hips. The leather strap locked her hips into place, keeping her from moving off of the table. Her wrist pinned against her stomach left her helpless to reach the strap.

“What are you doing!?” Caitlyn questioned immediately, fear dripping from her tongue as she had no form of defense and no ability to stop Jinx at this moment. Another strap came up, this time pressing up against her neck and pulled tight, barely just enough to breathe without choking. “I’m working! Can’t have my masterpiece moving and ruin the artwork,” Jinx muttered as she pressed a hand against Caitlyn’s spine.

A scream echoed from Caitlyn’s lips as suddenly the blade bit into Caitlyn’s skin, pressing firmly as it sliced through her skin like butter. Her feet tried to kick, flailing underneath her with no luck to hinder the demonic woman as she began her process. “JINX!! DAMMIT!” Caitlyn screamed, shaking her chest, pulling at her hips, unable to get away from her trapped position on the table. All the while, she listened to Jinx humming as she worked. The way the blade moved caused spots to fill her eyes, sparkled dust like little floating firelights in her eyes. Tears continued to stream down her cheeks, with screams of anguish at the blade didn’t stop. Worse of all was the etching turn of the blade, the framing of the monkey face against her shoulder blade as realization dawned on Caitlyn. “NO! NO!” she howled, kicking her feet harder as she shook her head. The rush of adrenaline twisted in Caitlyn’s stomach, feeling nauseous as the pain continued to rip against her skin, tearing up her ivory skin back. “Dammit, you moved! Stop moving or you’ll mess this up,” Jinx muttered in annoyance as Caitlyn nearly roared like a tiger.

“I WILL NOT!” Seconds blended into minutes, and minutes into an hour. The blade continued to slice across her skin, each twist cutting something new. Caitlyn had lost a sense of reality. Tremors echoed against Caitlyn’s body, unable to stop the natural reflexes against the physical assault on her back. Each time the blade cut in, a shuddering cry of pain echoed her lip, but her throat grew sore from the screaming that it turned into sudden shrieks or shrills that died down into sobs. Sweat drenched her skin, as the warmth of blood pooled over her back, dripping down the sides of her waist and off her neck. She intimately could feel the contrast of warm vitality against her shivering, cold skin. Her vision clouded, hyperventilating breaths making it hard to catch her breath. Caitlyn wasn’t sure what Jinx wrote, but she had finished with her shoulder and had gone to write a series of words against her entire back. The spine had been the worse of the event. It felt like a constant burning fire that didn’t dull.

Tears stained her cheeks as she laid there weakly, unable to pass out. Spirits preserved, she wanted to pass out, Jinx could continue to mark up her back, but at least she would not be awake to feel it. Her eyes flicked up, noticing a brief glimmer in the distance. A hint of red, soft. Her eyes watched the way it twisted, forming the broad shoulders and the magenta hair that shined against the sun. The body twisted like a smoke before slowly showing a visage. Vi.

No, Caitlyn knew it wasn’t her, and yet, all she could do was a hesitant smile before collapsing into a puddle of tears again. “I can’t...” she whispered, as the brush of a callous hand touched her cheek. “Come on, Cupcake, don’t give up. You didn’t give up before, you can’t do so now,” Tender words, a person who believed in her, even when everyone else didn’t. “You aren’t here,” If Jinx heard her talking, she didn’t seem to care, only focused on her work at hand as Caitlyn shuddered and cried out again. “I’m here, right here,” Spirits, how Caitlyn wanted to believe that. She latched onto it, despite knowing she wasn’t truly there; it was the only strand of hope she had at the moment to keep from begging Jinx to stop. She didn’t want to give her that satisfaction, and she knew that Jinx wouldn’t stop, anyway. A soft whimsical song rang in her ears as Vi brushed her hand against Caitlyn’s cheek again, and she laid there on the table, unable to do much else but try to stay alive. Jinx’s bristled tongue once more dragged over her body. This time, Caitlyn shuddered from the exposed wound and pain as it dragged up her neck and up against her face. Her saliva clung to her skin, coated it and her hair clung to it. “Mhmm… Vi is right. You do taste sweet like a cupcake. Maybe a little bite..hmm not yet, not yet,” Jinx tormented and Caitlyn thought her heart nearly beat right out of her chest. If Jinx wanted to, she literally could take a bite right out of her and there was nothing she could do! The malicious demon of a woman sent shards of fear throughout her body, losing every hint of autonomy she had. Jinx controlled her movement, her placement. She tried to fight, but it was little more than a fight of a mouse against a cat.

Something soft brushed against her back, when she noticed Jinx laying her head down against the table, a smooth, pristine smile over her lips, shimmer infused eyes gleaming, almost glowing in the darker room. A shudder coursed over her back when she realized it was a feather over her back. Jinx pulled it down over her shoulder, using the blood like paint and using her body like a canvas. Caitlyn was too weak to resist. She wanted to fall asleep, but the atmosphere could not let her rest. Her nerves screamed with fury as Jinx played with her food. Jinx mutilated her back and now ridiculed her with playful glee. Blue hair clung to Caitlyn’s face, obscured her vision with only the smokey visual of Vi sitting on the table trying to block the view of Jinx.

What time was it? How many minutes had passed? Or perhaps hours? Her mind dissociated with her body, fighting to preserve her mind past the excruciating anguish she suffered. Continuous shakes throbbed through her muscles and the unpleasant brush of the feather made her flinch each time. No physical fight came from Caitlyn and instead exhaustion burned her muscles. Eyes fluttered shut when the sting of a slap hit her cheek. “Don’t go to sleep yet, Kiramman. We haven’t even gotten to the best part!” Jinx chuckled as she bounced up, her revelry contrasting Caitlyn’s defeat. The sound of the buckles ripped off and Caitlyn’s body slid off the table and hit the floor. Jinx didn’t even try to catch her, instead watched with intense delight. The more Caitlyn suffered, the more she noticed Jinx’s elated behavior growing. A grunt of pain left her lips, unable to even scream out anymore as she laid down on the floor. Fight! Her mind whispered as Vi crouched down and reached over to grab her hand. “Fight, Cupcake,” Vi echoed the same words of her mind, as if working in tandem with her thoughts.

How?

“Vi,” Caitlyn’s voice cracked as Jinx hauled Caitlyn up and threw her over her shoulder. “Janna, I’m going to put a muzzle on you, shut that mouth up from saying her name,” Jinx hissed, her nails digging into Caitlyn’s legs as she weakly tried to pull away. “Fuck off,” her words spat, the tiny fight left as a little echoing voice encouraged her. “That’s it, Cupcake. Fight!” Her body convulsed as she was unceremoniously dropped into a wheelchair, as she cried in pain as her back pressed up against the metal. “I’m so tired of your words, and besides, you don’t look like an enforcer enough,” Jinx said, as she reached over to the table as Caitlyn turned her head to look over. Against it was clothing. An enforcer dress, her gloves and books, and just as Jinx declared, a muzzle.

“No, No!” Caitlyn tried to turn her head, to pull on her bloody wrist that was now raw from struggling the last few hours, but Jinx gave her no choice. A giddy laughter left the loose cannon as the muzzle pressed against her face as Caitlyn shook her head. “Muzzled like the mutt you are. That’s all enforcers are - mad dogs who need to be put down.” The strap went around her head, as Jinx pulled it tight, so tightly that it bit into her skin as she shook her head like a wild animal. “MFFH!” Caitlyn cried with tears she didn’t think she had left seeped from her eyes, staining her cheeks. The wild woman sat on Caitlyn’s bare lap as she grabbed her face and turned it left and right.

“You’re missing something…” She hummed as Caitlyn stared transfixed on the demon, her shimmer eyes glowing with excitement. Caitlyn noticed Jinx’s lips were still painted red from her own blood, and it dribbled down her chin from when she licked and tasted her pooled blood on her back as she picked up a marker and twisted it in her hand. She grabbed Caitlyn’s chin as she quivered, while the woman dragged the marker over the muzzle, pressing the paint up against her cheeks. She didn’t have to see the makeshift smile painted over her lips, like some twisted mannequin enjoying this behavior. Jinx threw the marker over her shoulder as she twisted Caitlyn’s head left and right. “I really don’t see what my sister sees in you. Ugh,” Jinx rolled her head, throwing Caitlyn’s head to the side as she climbed off of her and Caitlyn struggled. “Effh offh,” Caitlyn muttered, but her voice had been silence. She pulled on her wrist, the pressure of the muzzle more acute to her skin as her fingers flexed out, trying to claw at the mask. “Oh well, my sister will always choose me in the end. I know her. She won’t choose an enforcer. Why would she?” Jinx chatted to herself as she reached for the knife and Caitlyn panicked with what little energy she had left, but then Jinx put it back down.

Tightness wheeled in her chest, as she leaned her head forward, her hair cascading around her face to hide the fear as she silently sobbed. Jinx had ripped her autonomy from her grasp and she felt like an object at Jinx’s hand. Part of a twisted plan against Vi, and she didn’t even know what it was. And now she couldn’t even talk. The muzzle left her jaw clamped together, with only muffled tones like a whimpering animal. “It won’t be much longer,” Jinx grinned as she grabbed Caitlyn’s face, forcing her bloodshot eyes to look up at her. “Just know you will make a delicious feast for me and my sister. At least you’ll have some use. Can’t let good meat go to waste,” Jinx taunted, as Caitlyn’s eyes went wide at the flash of fangs as Jinx licked at her lips and her teeth. “Efhf!” Caitlyn tried to say something back, but she couldn’t, which left her terror the only thing to hang onto now. No words of defiance, no way to fight back. Sheer horror held Caitlyn now and Jinx reveled in this ultimate position.

Hands suddenly wrapped around Caitlyn’s throat as Caitlyn’s muffled scream echoed through the halls. “Why use gas when I can knock you out this way?” Jinx laughed maniacally as her fingers tightened around her throat, nails digging against her skin and pricking at her throat. Little droplets of blood seeped from her skin, but Caitlyn didn’t acknowledge that. Instead, it was the air that was choked from her throat. She pulled on her wrist, flexing her hands as she couldn’t breathe. The more she tried to, the tighter Jinx’s grip became. “I need to dress you and as much as I enjoy the fight, I have other party guests to invite!” The feline kept her bite tight with her hands, as Caitlyn’s eyes were wide in terror. No air went to her lungs as she saw sparkling spots again, filtering through her vision as she kicked her feet. The woman pushed down harder against her throat. A high-pitched giggle emitted through Jinx’s teeth. Caitlyn’s visions muddied as she grappled to get oxygen to her lungs. From the physical exhaustion of the torture to her mental capacity, it only took less than a minute to fall unconscious from the loss of oxygen and being choked by the she-wolf.

The last thing she remembered was her shimmer eyes, a demonic glint of satisfaction over the control she held, and the giggling laughter of a maniac that held her life in the balance.

[shieldbcund]

𝘓𝘢𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘦𝘭𝘥

“Our armor can be very heavy,” Elouan says, looking over as snow sprinkles over the Coerthan stone. White meets grey meets black as snow covers stone and metal alike, wordlessly erasing more and more of the landscape. In the Ishgardian dawn, two figures stand at the snow’s silent shores. More flakes fall and scatter atop malms upon malms of snow, yet their contribution remains undetectable. Sollerets crunch then click, then click then crunch as they sink into snow or push against cobblestone. Despite the sun hiding behind the overcast sky, its warm light still casts on his shield.

Feathers dance against his armor and shards of light craft cerulean, turquoise cuts that claim metal and fabric alike. His sword feels like nothing, just his hand in a fist while his shield a buffer for the Coerthan wind on his shoulder. But, his armor? The bands of white and gold covering his past and present in layers of well-forged metals? They feel as if Eitherys herself rests between his shoulder blades. He wouldn’t trade it for anything else. 

“It has hopes, dreams, and lives on them, nay? Not just the people you protect, but your very own,” he adds on, nearing the figure in dark blue armor. Chainmail clinks together, a near-silent heartbeat of oaths and wars, that all but ceases when he stops a fulm from him. Marcelloix. Elouan brings his shield forward, presenting the paired doves on its front. They stare at Marcelloix with their observing gaze while his blade slips into its sheath. The dark knight’s sword is drawn, a vivid black shadow hovering over the snow. While he sees darkness, he sees light. While he sees his past, he sees his future.

Another step, another clink of chainmail, then the clang of metal echoes over the snowy landscape. Sparks bring a splash of color to the monochrome land and he sucks in a breath. The fulm of space separating them gives way to the interloping of greatsword to shield, its blade nestled between one of the shield’s many scalloped edges. Weapons meet, eyes meet, and in that moment Elouan’s shoulders are burdened with yet another weight: his fears. 

“But it doesn’t always have to be heavy. Or always worn wherever you are.” The greatsword groans as Elouan dislodges it from his shield with a swift roll of the arm. Marcel’s blade hovers in the air, gripped with white-knuckled strength. Yet underneath the leather gloves protecting those hands, the slightest quiver is undeniable. Elouan spares him a smile and takes a step closer. He rests a gauntlet-clad hand on the blade’s fierce tip, index and middle guiding it down. 

“We all need someone to protect us. To be there when we’re there for others. You can take your armor off with me, Marcel, aye? You don’t need to...to always be on guard when I can protect you, too.” 

The greatsword plummets into the snow with a muffled crunch. Its ornately-designed surface shines like the ice surrounding the Dreaming Dragon. Elou sidesteps the greatsword and wraps an arm around his waist. He lifts his shield up as Marcel’s head presses into his shoulder, sending puffs of hot air against both skin and armor alike. Snow gives way to flowers and overcast to sun. Warm rays thaw them of the finite, absolute nature of Coerthan overcast. “Lay down your blade and I will give you my shield. No matter where you are, my blade will always be yours. I can take the weight for you, Marcel. I have you here, and I’ll keep standing, no matter what.” 

And his shoulders grow heavier with burden, taking on the weight of his lover and his life. Each weight adds on, making it harder to breath and harder, still, to keep standing. He’s pledged himself to help in love and in kindness, in loyalty and justice. His shield is Marcel’s and his blade is, too. Whatever is to come, one thing is certain: he can always set his armor aside with Elouan, to be protected as the phenomenal man he is. 

[guardsbian]

🗡

Guardian Horn

A dull gray horn from a Guardian, unevenly broken an inch or two up from its base. Every other band bears old, flaking paint in a soft cerulean, and the very tip is worn and chipped. It was once used as a conduit for a clairvoyant, who claimed that they could identify the "Charge" of any breed. Though they fervently denied the criticisms levied against them and their beliefs, the clairvoyant would come to abandon the horn and their other tools, quickly leaving their old life behind for horizons unknown.

The horn seems no different from any other severed horn, though years of handling and exposure have rendered it a petrified relic, hardly able to hold or conduct any magic. But, curiously, when placed on a flat surface, it always gently pivots so its tip points east...

[ferinehuntressmoved]

PREPPING THE SPECIAL TEA PARTY GUEST

Trigger Warnings: This is written with implied notes of cannibalism that something Jinx would do, as well as references of indirect visualizations of sexual harassment and invasion of privacy. Ultimately, this is a VERY DARK AND HORROR INDUCED THEME and twisted scene before the tea party, where Jinx takes out her anger on the person she believes is stealing her sister. It has graphic written displays of violence and mutilation as well as hallucinations and bodily autonomy stripped away.

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED! Jinx is inspired and written based on @shimmerbeasts Jinx.

Caitlyn’s eyes struggled to open past the ache of irritation of the impact on her head. Disorientation blinded her vision as she shook her head to reset her mindset. Slowly, she lifted her head and pressed it against the back of the wall. The entire area felt humid and damp as she focused on piecing together what had happened and where she currently sat. Cerulean eyes opened up as she forced herself to push past the strain and catch her bearing. The sooner she could accomplish her focus, the better off she would be. Rusted old rubble covered the entire zone. The insufficient sliver of light that filtered through showed flakes of age over metal and dirt, and cobwebs in the corners of spaces. Despite decrepit age, not a sound came from the abandoned warehouse, adding an ominous, eerie silence. It was then she could smell of stagnation and mustiness of the residue dirt. The rubble against her back sent a chill down her spine as she lifted away. Damp coldness chilled her bare skin, registering her nudity.

The only sight of color was the pinkish purple veins weaving and twisting around the rubble. Small veins reflected the moonlight that filtered through the abandoned warehouse. Like an old wound that still lived, pulsing with a slight purple flash from time to time, something that reminded her of the growth upon Husk’s head. Living, thriving in this worn space as if nothing could kill the virus within its roots.

A groan left Caitlyn’s lips, still trying to gather her bearing, when the memory flashed through her mind. Purple eyes; demeaned and twisted a glimmer of white as fangs flashed in the mirror. She lunged for her door to get her weapon (placed in her bedroom) but then it filled with gas. Pungent and strong, bitter against her nose as she tried to cover it. Nothing kept the fumes from filling her senses and it caused her to stumble and pass out. The memory flashed through her memory and caused Caitlyn’s eyes to widen.

“Dammit,” Caitlyn whispered, as she tried to move her wrist to the side to get up. Moving her head from the wall, she looked down to see her wrist bound with rope. She hissed in displeasure and twisted her wrist, only to rub against the harsh, unyielding hemp rope. Another set coiled over her arms and around her waist, tight enough that she couldn’t pull them up, and any movement caused the thick rope to scrap against bare arms. Any means of escape required a tool as Caitlyn scanned her surroundings. “Shit,” she whispered as she noted the same wrap encircled her ankles, but enough that she wouldn’t be running soon. It took all her willpower to muster down the alarm as she tried to access a way to get free. She examined her surroundings, pulling her legs back, and looked to her side to find a jagged piece of metal. A glint of one caught her eye, and she leaned down to grab it with her hand. Careful movements allowed her to twist it around and cut through the thick rope.

Rapid eye movement continued to scan the room, sharp eagle vision trying to find the one who did this. Her hands worked as quickly as she could, though with her position it was hard to handle the metal against the rope. It didn’t stop her though, as she just steadily worked at trying to get out of the restrictive position. Despite the humidity, chills nipped at Caitlyn’s naked flesh, as she jerked at a sound. Her eyes focused on the distance. Stone bounced on the ground but it was the flash of purple that made her suddenly look up. The eerie tone echoed in the room, bouncing off the walls like an echo. Rumbling guttural echoes caused a rush of terror, like a piece of meat being stalked by whatever demon lurked in the shadows. The vocalizations caused a whimper to leave Caitlyn’s lips involuntarily as she tried to cut faster and deeper into the rope. A sudden flash of blue and ripped the metal shard from her hand and thrown to the side. “Like I let you go that easy, enforcer,” the dark tone left the lips of the woman before her. “Jinx!” Caitlyn nearly shrieked, as she tried to push herself up against the way as sharp nails gripped at her jaw before slamming her into the ground. “We’ve barely even begun to have any fun,” The words echoed through Caitlyn’s ears though her head throbbed from the impact to the ground. The voice was distant at first, but then a steel toe boot met contact with her abdomen.

It caused all the air to rush out of her lungs and nausea hit her as quickly as her steel-toed boot did. Adrenaline flooded her system and cut off her ability to process or think. She curled into a fetal position, gasping for air as the effects stunned her for the second. The bitter taste of bile flooded her mouth as she continued to struggle to breathe. Pain erupted through her body now that she could recognize it after being blinded by the impact. Gasps of breath turned into a cough as tears pricked at the corner of her eyes from the anguish of pain. “Shit,” she finally sputtered out, pulling the air into her lungs as she fought against the ropes.

Fingers threaded through her blue hair, streaks of silver pulled alongside as she forced her to look up at her captor and glared through her glassy eyes. “What do you want?” Caitlyn tried to show defiantly, but it came out choked through her pained abdomen.

“You, dead.” Bitter words left her lips as Jinx pulled harder. The follicles at the base of her skull stung as Caitlyn gritted her teeth together, trying not to cry out in pain. “Then get on with it!” Caitlyn demanded, because she knew if Jinx wanted her dead, she would have already been dead when she broke into her house. There was something more here, something worse. A part of Caitlyn didn’t want to know as she tried this shift closer toward Jinx’s hand that pulled roughly against her hair. The predator’s other hand grabbed her jaw, forcing Caitlyn to stare at her. Shimmer infused eyes, eyes Caitlyn had never seen on Jinx before till now, bore into her with deadly intent. “And make it easy on you? No… you suffer first,” Nail-like claws bit against Caitlyn’s jaw, digging into her flesh and threatening to cut through. “I would cut up that face of yours, but I need Vi to see it. I need her to know who you are, so for now, you get to keep it; because I say so,” Jinx sneered, before letting go of Caitlyn’s hair and face as the she-wolf straddled Caitlyn’s stomach and her hand wrapped around her throat. Caitlyn’s eyes were full of fear now, as she shook her head to move away from the hands latching around her throat like a maw of teeth. Her feet kicked out as Jinx flipped a knife in her hand.

An earth shattering scream ripped through Caitlyn’s lips as the blade hit the wound on her left thigh. It cut through flesh and muscle and tissue, making the wound worse than it already had been from the bridge incident weeks ago. Tears streamed down her face as a fog passed over her eyes again, struggling desperately to pull on her hands to push Jinx away. Yet past the fog, she could see Jinx with a demented fanged grin staring down at her. Her body leaned closer, too close for Caitlyn’s liking as she tried to pull away from her. A bristled tongue brushed against her jaw and up her cheek to lick at her tears that fell from her eyes. Delight played in the loose cannon’s eyes, which caused Caitlyn to fight once more. “GET OFF!” she shouted, screaming past the pain as Jinx twisted the bloody blade in her hand. “I wonder what you taste like, hmm, Cupcake?”

The word instantly caused Caitlyn to freeze, as her breathing became rapid against her chest. Like a rapid river rushing through the ravine, all she could do was try to process what she just said. “How…” Jinx’s hands tightened around Caitlyn’s throat to silence her and cut off her air supply. “Like I didn’t know the infection you bled into my sister! She can only give nicknames to me!” The threat of no oxygen thumped against her might when Jinx let her throat go and she gasped back air once more. “But I’ll show Vi. I’ll show her just what kind of infection you are. You play the Zaunite, try to look like a Zaunite, but you’re nothing more than a Piltie, invading everything you touch. No, I’ll show her,” Jinx grinned, as she stood up and stared down at Caitlyn, eyes flicking over her entire body like a piece of meat. Caitlyn tried to cover herself up, feeling exposed and humiliated in her position as she struggled with the rope that now rubbed at her flesh and turned her ivory skin red from all the movements.

“Leave Vi out of this! This is between you and me!” Caitlyn shouted, her defiance kicking in. Instinct took over to protect Vi. It’s not like she knew she was here. Vi had left her on the steps of the council hall. The echoing memory still pained her; she knew Vi didn’t mean what she said. Everything pointed to Vi closing up, pushing Caitlyn away. It wasn’t the first time it had happened. She had done it several times before, and the draw of the hood was a protective measure. Whatever Vi was feeling, it twisted and turned and caused Vi to push everyone away. Bearing this weight on her own. Still, Caitlyn didn’t blame her; she had plans to go after her this morning if not for Jinx’s interference. But then the prickling fear ebbed away at her heart: it wasn’t just Vi who wouldn’t know. It included Jayce, her mother and father, and Viktor. None of them even knew she was missing! The sudden realization that no one would look for her sent dread coursing through her veins and the truth through her mind. She was going to die here.

Caitlyn’s outburst only angered the blue-braided Zaunite, as Jinx struck out with a hand and backhanded Caitlyn across the cheek. It left a pain echoing against her skin as she reached up and grabbed Caitlyn’s hair and dragged her against the ground. “I should sow that mouth shut, I know how to,” Darken words left Caitlyn pulling on her wrist again. “Ah! OW!” cries of pain ripped through her lips as she kicked out her feet. Uselessly, she tried to lift her head up to Jinx’s hand as her hair was like a rope to drag Caitlyn across the ground. She easily wrangled the woman as rock and stone scraped and cut against Caitlyn’s backside, leaving little tiny knicks with barely a droplet of blood sprouting from the spots.

“What does my sister see in you anyway, you’re too soft and fleshy,” Jinx sounded as if she talked more to herself then to Caitlyn despite her presence being there as Jinx dropped her back down to the ground and a grunt left her lips. The pain of her thigh dulled enough as Jinx put her foot on Caitlyn’s hip and shoved her over to lie on her stomach. That caused Caitlyn’s arms to be pinned down against the ground as she kicked her feet like a flopping fish. She growled angrily, trying to push back as Jinx dropped unceremoniously on top of her back, causing her spine to crack a few times and knocked the air from her lungs. She crossed her legs and pressed a hand against her shoulder blades, forcing Caitlyn down further as she twisted her head to look over her shoulder. “Dammit Jinx! Get the fuck off of me!” Irrational anger gripped the former-enforcer, her adrenaline pumping faster causing a mass production of hormones that steamed all in her anger and covering up the fear she experienced. Fingers brushed over her shoulders, playing with the iridescent blue feathers. And then suddenly Jinx pulled on out. Caitlyn flinched, not out of pain but discomfort as the sensation coursed through the nerves. A giggle echoed and then another pluck came, and then soon one after another. Dread coursed through Caitlyn’s chest, burning against her shoulders as her feathers spread and fluff up, matching the fear and trying to look bigger than she was. Each pull of a feather made her twist and turn, as she tightened her eyes shut, trying not to think about what Jinx was doing; taking away the physical protection to herself but also destroying a part of herself. A hiss left her lips when claws gripped into the back of her neck and Jinx slammed her harder against the ground.

“Stop trying to sound like a Zaunite! You're not one, you fucking Piltie. You don’t even deserve these feathers. Trying to look like an animal, trying to mimic our ways. Liar.” The words dripped like poison, stinging at Caitlyn’s chest as she suddenly felt a flood of discomfort as Jinx’s hand wrapped around a bundle of feathers and ripped them out. Her nails scraped against sensitive flesh underneath the feathers as she kicked her feet. No one had not touched the burns in months; the feathers had done their job to protect her from any kind of sensation. Another giggle left Jinx’s lips as she leaned downward to whisper into Caitlyn’s ear. “Oh, did that hurt little birdie?” The question came as Caitlyn bared her teeth, her eyes flicking over her shoulder with no words. Nails still pressed against her neck, keeping her down against the ground as claws dragged against her burns and Caitlyn shuddered, a cry of anguish. “Well, first we have to clip the wings, and then…” Jinx’s voice went quiet as Caitlyn struggled when Jinx pressed a finger against her shoulder blade.

“What is this?” The vitriolic tone cracked as Caitlyn tried to shift her shoulder upward, refusing to answer. “ANSWER ME!” Jinx shoulder as she pulled Caitlyn up by the neck and slammed her head down against the ground. Spotted fluttered against her eyes, a slight abrasion against her temple as she growled before speaking. “A fucking tattoo,” Caitlyn demanded, as she could feel jinx’s nails tracing along the violet flowers, but it wasn’t a delighted sensation. The claws dragged over her skin, digging in harder before Jinx let out a yell and claws ripped through Caitlyn’s flesh around her tattoo. Caitlyn screamed, kicking at her feet as she heard the wild woman screaming.

“YOU MARK YOUR SKIN WITH MY SISTER’S NAME! YOU THINK YOU CAN CLAIM HER BY PUTTING A TATTOO ON YOUR BACK! WELL, I’LL SHOW YOU!” The sudden volatile wave of emotions slammed into Caitlyn’s chest. It burned, like fire and ice combined, charring at the edges of her chest, freezing her fingertips. She couldn’t properly block any emotions, and the sudden wave of madness and frenzy overtook her mental capacity as she shook her head. “IT’S NOT ABOUT VI!” Caitlyn shouted, because it was the truth. Her tattoo had been personal, involving the flowers of violets within her garden. A place of safety and comfort.

Now her tattoo enraged the shimmer monster on her back.

“LIAR!” Nails dug into Caitlyn’s tattoo, through her flesh and skin, as Jinx kept them there. “Shut up!” Jinx shouted, as Caitlyn looked confused at first, the way the woman shouted. Jinx wasn’t looking down at her, but this time in the corner. “I’m busy! No, No I’m not going to kill her! Not yet anyway! Would you shut it!” Her nails dug deeper into Caitlyn’s shoulder as she shuddered with a cry of torment. Blood seeped from the wound, scatter across her back like a branching stream of rivers, twisting as they slid down her skin.

The nails pulled from her shoulder and from her neck as the weight left her body. Freedom. Caitlyn turned past the spots of her eyes, seeing Jinx walking away muttering to herself. Immediately, Caitlyn twisted back around and wiggled like a worm, trying to move toward anything she could use to break free. Her bottom lip pressed between her teeth, biting down so hard she might draw blood. The movement of her body rolling left-to-right put pressure on her thigh and it burned like a fire. Still, she persisted, refusing to just lay here and expose her belly to let Jinx murder her. Even if Caitlyn felt the impending doom of death on her doorstep, she wouldn’t give up. The infinitesimal ability Caitlyn had to stop Jinx didn’t matter; she would make her work for this.

Shards of glass glistened against the light that filtered through from the candles that were lit. She could see a small glimmer of light near a doorway, the sunlight from outside. A hint of freedom that Caitlyn desperately yearned to reach. Each roll, each wiggle, yet still too far from the glass. She just needed to work a little harder, and…

“Where do you think you’re going?” Jinx laughed, as she reached down to grab Caitlyn’s ankles and whipped her around onto her back. “No no no, you sneaky little bitch,” Caitlyn yowled in anger as she kicked her feet against Jinx’s side and the Zaunite only seemed to revel in the antics of Caitlyn’s fight. The fear pulsated off of Caitlyn like perfume, and the loose cannon enjoyed every second of the struggle. “Get your spirit forsaken hands off of me NOW!” Each word constantly felt like the droning of a broken record. Caitlyn knew Jinx would not listen and yet she couldn’t do anything else but fight back with her words. Bloodshot eyes stared up in anger and fear at the woman who dragged her across the ground. Writhing like a worm on a hook, Caitlyn tried to resist, to pull away, but Jinx had the upper hand. A predator playing with her prey as she dropped Caitlyn’s legs.

Fingers grabbed Caitlyn’s shoulders and picked her up, her eyes round like a moon and unsure of what Jinx planned, when she twirled her around like a ballerina doll and shoved against a table. Her chest pressed down against the cold metal and Jinx’s body pressed flushed behind her. Hips against her rear, as Caitlyn shook her head. It was an invasion of her privacy, too close for comfort. Immediately Caitlyn tried to force herself up, to get away from the angle of the position, but Jinx grabbed her neck and shoved her back down against the table. “Please, keep fighting. It’ll only make the kill more delicious,” Jinx purred, leaning over as Caitlyn shuddered. “You fucking psychopath!!” Caitlyn snapped as she felt Jinx’s body pressed firmly against her clammy skin. Jinx’s teeth scraped against her ear, nipping roughly at it, and she heard a guttural purr. “I prefer... creative,” Jinx taunted, and then grabbed a leather strap. The weight disappeared for a moment, only to feel the pressure of a belt bound to her hips. The leather strap locked her hips into place, keeping her from moving off of the table. Her wrist pinned against her stomach left her helpless to reach the strap.

“What are you doing!?” Caitlyn questioned immediately, fear dripping from her tongue as she had no form of defense and no ability to stop Jinx at this moment. Another strap came up, this time pressing up against her neck and pulled tight, barely just enough to breathe without choking. “I’m working! Can’t have my masterpiece moving and ruin the artwork,” Jinx muttered as she pressed a hand against Caitlyn’s spine.

A scream echoed from Caitlyn’s lips as suddenly the blade bit into Caitlyn’s skin, pressing firmly as it sliced through her skin like butter. Her feet tried to kick, flailing underneath her with no luck to hinder the demonic woman as she began her process. “JINX!! DAMMIT!” Caitlyn screamed, shaking her chest, pulling at her hips, unable to get away from her trapped position on the table. All the while, she listened to Jinx humming as she worked. The way the blade moved caused spots to fill her eyes, sparkled dust like little floating firelights in her eyes. Tears continued to stream down her cheeks, with screams of anguish at the blade didn’t stop. Worse of all was the etching turn of the blade, the framing of the monkey face against her shoulder blade as realization dawned on Caitlyn. “NO! NO!” she howled, kicking her feet harder as she shook her head. The rush of adrenaline twisted in Caitlyn’s stomach, feeling nauseous as the pain continued to rip against her skin, tearing up her ivory skin back. “Dammit, you moved! Stop moving or you’ll mess this up,” Jinx muttered in annoyance as Caitlyn nearly roared like a tiger.

“I WILL NOT!” Seconds blended into minutes, and minutes into an hour. The blade continued to slice across her skin, each twist cutting something new. Caitlyn had lost a sense of reality. Tremors echoed against Caitlyn’s body, unable to stop the natural reflexes against the physical assault on her back. Each time the blade cut in, a shuddering cry of pain echoed her lip, but her throat grew sore from the screaming that it turned into sudden shrieks or shrills that died down into sobs. Sweat drenched her skin, as the warmth of blood pooled over her back, dripping down the sides of her waist and off her neck. She intimately could feel the contrast of warm vitality against her shivering, cold skin. Her vision clouded, hyperventilating breaths making it hard to catch her breath. Caitlyn wasn’t sure what Jinx wrote, but she had finished with her shoulder and had gone to write a series of words against her entire back. The spine had been the worse of the event. It felt like a constant burning fire that didn’t dull.

Tears stained her cheeks as she laid there weakly, unable to pass out. Spirits preserved, she wanted to pass out, Jinx could continue to mark up her back, but at least she would not be awake to feel it. Her eyes flicked up, noticing a brief glimmer in the distance. A hint of red, soft. Her eyes watched the way it twisted, forming the broad shoulders and the magenta hair that shined against the sun. The body twisted like a smoke before slowly showing a visage. Vi.

No, Caitlyn knew it wasn’t her, and yet, all she could do was a hesitant smile before collapsing into a puddle of tears again. “I can’t...” she whispered, as the brush of a callous hand touched her cheek. “Come on, Cupcake, don’t give up. You didn’t give up before, you can’t do so now,” Tender words, a person who believed in her, even when everyone else didn’t. “You aren’t here,” If Jinx heard her talking, she didn’t seem to care, only focused on her work at hand as Caitlyn shuddered and cried out again. “I’m here, right here,” Spirits, how Caitlyn wanted to believe that. She latched onto it, despite knowing she wasn’t truly there; it was the only strand of hope she had at the moment to keep from begging Jinx to stop. She didn’t want to give her that satisfaction, and she knew that Jinx wouldn’t stop, anyway. A soft whimsical song rang in her ears as Vi brushed her hand against Caitlyn’s cheek again, and she laid there on the table, unable to do much else but try to stay alive. Jinx’s bristled tongue once more dragged over her body. This time, Caitlyn shuddered from the exposed wound and pain as it dragged up her neck and up against her face. Her saliva clung to her skin, coated it and her hair clung to it. “Mhmm… Vi is right. You do taste sweet like a cupcake. Maybe a little bite..hmm not yet, not yet,” Jinx tormented and Caitlyn thought her heart nearly beat right out of her chest. If Jinx wanted to, she literally could take a bite right out of her and there was nothing she could do! The malicious demon of a woman sent shards of fear throughout her body, losing every hint of autonomy she had. Jinx controlled her movement, her placement. She tried to fight, but it was little more than a fight of a mouse against a cat.

Something soft brushed against her back, when she noticed Jinx laying her head down against the table, a smooth, pristine smile over her lips, shimmer infused eyes gleaming, almost glowing in the darker room. A shudder coursed over her back when she realized it was a feather over her back. Jinx pulled it down over her shoulder, using the blood like paint and using her body like a canvas. Caitlyn was too weak to resist. She wanted to fall asleep, but the atmosphere could not let her rest. Her nerves screamed with fury as Jinx played with her food. Jinx mutilated her back and now ridiculed her with playful glee. Blue hair clung to Caitlyn’s face, obscured her vision with only the smokey visual of Vi sitting on the table trying to block the view of Jinx.

“Now, let’s flip you over,” Jinx muttered, more to herself, as she reached over to pull off a strap around Caitlyn’s waist and the same with her head, but held her up and flipped her body. The sudden impact of her mutilated back hitting the table left out a rip of a roar from Caitlyn’s mouth, as she tried to arch her back only for the strap the press down hard against her hips. What else could she have planned? Caitlyn’s eyes struggled to focus, the pain harrowing that she saw shades of blurs between her eyelashes. But then Jinx shoved her head back down, and the strap wrapped over her neck again. “You sit here, don’t move now,” the giddiness lifted from her lips, as she jumped over the table and left the room. There was little more to do than wait as she tried to pull her head up, but her throat choked back a cough as she nearly cut off her air supply pushing against it. Spots filtered over her eyes as she leaned her head back, twisting it to the side.

Her head fell to the side, feeling the warmth of blood that was spilled on the table now, giving her hair an ombre look between blue and now a purplish red hue at the tips. Her bones cracked as she shifted just slightly, painful yet silent cries echoed her lips. Vi’s brilliant green eyes met hers again, as it was the only thing keeping her grounded and not completely dissociating from her body. “Vi, where did she go?” Caitlyn questioned, as the soft brush of Vi’s finger tickled her cheek. A flash back to the bridge, when that soft brush touched her face and the bittersweet memory of memorizing her touch. “I don’t know, but she is going to come back. I know it hurts, Cupcake; I know,” How Caitlyn needed Vi to be real; perhaps that’s why she could feel her touch, see her face. It was the only thing in pure focus around the blurred scenery of the cannery. “Focus on me, okay? Focus on your mind. Whatever happens, do not lose that. You have to keep fighting,” Caitlyn closed her eyes, just letting her drown in the gentle touch when the jump on the table caused Caitlyn to startled and jerk in the restraints. Jinx twisted around to straddle Caitlyn’s chest, sitting on top of her and twirling a circular metal object around her finger.

The pink hair hallucination was still there. Caitlyn could see her out of the corner of her eye. Her mind trying to get her to focus on anything other than the massive amount of pain her body was experiencing. “Open wide!” Jinx grinned, leaning down to force Caitlyn’s mouth open. She fruitlessly tried to turn her head, but Jinx’s fingers invasively slipped past her lips, stretching open her jaw and her teeth with inhuman strength. And that’s when the ring pressed into her mouth and behind her teeth. What twisted joke was this, Caitlyn thought. Already, tears were slipping down her cheeks as she tried to use her tongue to push it out of her mouth, but Jinx strapped it tightly around her mouth to force it open. Jinx put both of her hands down on either side of Caitlyn’s face, staring directly into her as she bared her teeth with a vicious smile. Her fingers reached over to some medieval looking device, as Caitlyn flicked her eyes to it and trying to figure out what she was planning. All her deductive skills knew enough; something she didn’t want to admit.

A second wind of fight crept over her body as she kicked her feet. That did nothing, as the metal device moved in and Caitlyn couldn’t close her mouth to stop it. The hand pressed up against her forehead as Jinx clamped it down roughly, but waited for a moment. Caitlyn’s wild, wide eyes stared at the demon, trying to prepare herself. Jinx didn’t do it quickly. She took her time. A slow, agonizing pull as Caitlyn wailed, struggling underneath the weight of the shimmer beast. The device twisted and turned, pulling the tooth with devious intent. And then... pop, the tooth snapped from its socket. Fog covered Caitlyn’s eyes. Tears dotted over her eyelashes as she struggled to focus on Jinx, who was twisting the device around to look at the bloody tooth. “Not as sharp as mine, but too sharp for a Piltie,” Jinx put it between her fingers and she popped the tooth into her mouth. Caitlyn visibly grimaced, unable to look away from the disaster before her. She struggled to contain the hyperventilation chest that causing her breathing to shallow. Worse was the taste of metallic blood that stained her tongue and dribbled down her own throat. “This is better than the hard candy! Janna, be damned, I could eat you up; teeth and all, lick your bones clean,” Jinx twisted the device in her hand, and moved in for the next tooth.

The screams echoed off of the walls, her voice imprinting against them as she fought hard to keep some kind of focus. She didn’t know how much longer she could keep fighting like this; something was bound to break. Caitlyn found between her shrieks was a hard beat tone of singing. The monster sang to her heart’s content, bouncing slightly on Caitlyn’s chest as she worked to pull each canine from her mouth. Blood coated her tongue full now, with her four canine teeth missing and dropped on the table. Caitlyn loses sense of time, as her headache throbbed against her skull. She could see Jinx’s lips moving, but Caitlyn couldn’t process what she said. Her eyes rolled back slightly against her head as she leaned her head to the side and gave way to nearly falling unconscious. She barely hung on, as the soft touch of hands stirred her dull blue eyes. “Come on, Caitlyn, come on. Focus on me right here. Cupcake!” The hallucination of Vi returned, though Caitlyn couldn’t move or speak. The blood dribbled down the corner of her mouth, as she involuntarily swallowed down the blood and saliva in her mouth again. “They need you, I need you. Okay? You know my stubborn ass, I get into any mess possible, and your parents need you. They need you, so please, do not give up? Janna preserved, I’ll even say thank you if you do so.” A pop sound came as Jinx ripped the ring from her mouth and she let out a shuddered whimper of pain, but relieved to shut her mouth again.

What time was it? How many minutes had passed? Or perhaps hours? Her mind dissociated with her body, fighting to preserve her mind past the excruciating anguish she suffered. Continuous shakes throbbed through her muscles and the unpleasant brush of the feather made her flinch each time. No physical fight came from Caitlyn and instead exhaustion burned her muscles. Eyes fluttered shut when the sting of a slap hit her cheek. “Don’t go to sleep yet, Kiramman. We haven’t even gotten to the best part!” Jinx chuckled as she bounced up, her revelry contrasting Caitlyn’s defeat. The sound of the buckles ripped off and Caitlyn’s body slid off the table and hit the floor. Jinx didn’t even try to catch her, instead watched with intense delight. The more Caitlyn suffered, the more she noticed Jinx’s elated behavior growing. A grunt of pain left her lips, unable to even scream out anymore as she laid down on the floor. Fight! Her mind whispered as Vi crouched down and reached over to grab her hand. “Fight, Cupcake,” Vi echoed the same words of her mind, as if working in tandem with her thoughts.

How?

“Oh!” Jinx gasped with delight, grabbing Caitlyn and shoving her into a chair. Caitlyn grunted as Jinx shoved the chair up against the table, forced to sit in front of the blood-stained table. “Now don’t try to run off now, I have something to deal with,” Jinx nearly bounced off, a playful cat delighting with the game as Caitlyn’s eyes turned to watch her leave. Her head slumped forward, hanging there as she stared at the ground. Her head rolled slightly to the side, the dazed fog filling her head again. “Hey, Cupcake, look at me,” the voice echoed as the soft touch of fingers brushed up against her cheek. Oh, she could feel that. It was so sweet, just like that brief moment on the bridge. She turned her head and pressed it up against her hand, so intricately feeling Vi’s hand as if she truly stood in front of her on the table.

“Don’t look at the tools, just look at me, Cupcake,” Vi’s voice wisps through the air. Her voice had a touch of warmth, like a tender, heated hearth warming her bedroom. Slowly, her eyes looked up, staring at Vi’s beautifully vivid green eyes, heavy painful breaths ripping through her lungs. “I’m so tired, Vi. I’m drained, and it’s so hard to fight. I don’t know if I have it in me anymore.” Caitlyn’s hoarse voice cracked as she leaned forward in the chair, laying her head down against Vi’s lap. Spirits, she was going insane. She truly lost her mind, feeling the warmth of Vi’s lap and the comfort swirl of arms around her shoulder. She could forget about the sheer pain on her spine, the blood tickling her skin while focusing on Vi. Whatever this was, this hallucination truly allowed her to dissociate from her pain.

“For now, rest, Cupcake. It’s just you and me, Jinx isn’t here,” Vi’s fingers brushed through her hair as Caitlyn sighed, turning her head as she smiled past her pain. Tear-stained cheeks, ombre blood-coated hair, but nothing could stop the little smile of feeling Vi’s hand brush through her hair. All logic pointed to this being just made up in her head, yet she couldn’t give a care in the world.

If this was how she was going to die, at least she could have this memory. “You know, I still remember the way you looked at me, back at the mansion. The way your hand brushed against my face, the comfort you extended. You didn’t have to,” the hallucination of Vi spoke, as Caitlyn spit out blood from her mouth, her gums aching horribly. “There is so much I didn’t get to tell you, Vi. I don’t know if I ever will get to,” Caitlyn whispered, taking slow breaths that stung her lungs. “Well, we have time now. So how about you tell me?” Vi offered, and Caitlyn hesitated in her thoughts.

“I know you aren’t my Vi,” she whispered and Vi let out a chuckle, lightly punching her shoulder,, which caused Caitlyn to chuckle. “Of course, I’m not, but I am the memory of your Vi. I am what you see, and you know me as I know you. That doesn’t make me any less Vi than the real one. You’re brilliant, Cupcake. Smart, resourceful, as clever as a fox and as free as a bird,” Caitlyn almost found it amusing that her hallucination was agreeing with her logic, that she wasn’t real. How weirdly comforting it felt, to know that her hallucination accepted this and yet still here.

A sigh left her lips as Caitlyn struggled with her arms and let out a little muddled cry. “Easy, Cupcake,” Vi whispered and placed a hand down to press against her hands. “I know you want free, but you need to conserve your energy. You aren’t going to break through those ropes, no matter how hard you try. We both know you just have to wait for the right opportunity. Don’t make the cuts worse than they are.” Why did her hallucination have to be right? Usually, Caitlyn tried to comfort Vi, make sure she didn’t react too harshly or let her impulsive nature get the best of her. Yet here, her hallucination took on her own natural thoughts in Vi’s voice.

Caitlyn struggled to maintain her emotions as she sniffled and the weight buried her underneath her fears. “I wish I could tell you how much I want to make your life better, how I want to see you smile. I just,” Caitlyn sobbed and lowered her head down onto her lap as Vi softened her voice with a little breath. “You know I didn’t mean what I said, I only wanted to protect you,” Fingers brushed through Caitlyn’s hair as she peered up at her.

“Don’t leave me?” Her voice barely a whisper as the sound of steps caught her ears. “I am going nowhere, Cupcake. You aren’t alone.” Vi’s hand brushed against her face as fear gripped Caitlyn’s chest again but stared at Vi when a hand pressed against her back and dragged down her skin. A bitter scream ripped from her lungs as the nails dug against flesh and blood. Her entire body shook as Jinx pulled her fingers into her lips, popping them in her mouth as she set the cupcake down on the table. That broke Caitlyn’s process of pain and her eyes went wide. Her mouth parted; unable to even say a word. “H.. h...” Jinx climbed onto the table, as she had a twisted smirk upon her lips. The cupcake crusted along the edges, slightly burnt but still a sweet aroma from it. Her nose scrunched up as she tried to lean back. Her eyes flicked over briefly to the hallucination of Vi sitting on the also in front of the cupcake, glancing between Jinx and Caitlyn and giving a nod toward Caitlyn before turning back to Jinx.

Her vision blurred slightly as Caitlyn shook her head, struggling to maintain her presence as her body rippled with tremors, and Jinx bit the bottom of her lip. Jinx played with Caitlyn, but this time not her body; but her mind. She picked up the cupcake with soaked blood dripping down and splashing into the puddle below. Then she took the blood and brushed it all around the cupcake, letting it soak into the baked flour. Pain ripped through Caitlyn’s back as she immediately pulled away from the table, desperate only to cause Jinx to smirk.

“Ya know, I never really cared for the sweets, it would be so easy to just... smash it,” Jinx taunted, her nails tip-toeing toward the cupcake, and with one finger, hit it so it tip over and rolled around in the blood. “But why smash it when... I could delight in the juicy flavor it has,” Caitlyn’s heart stammered in her chest. She won’t do it, not yet. She said she had a plan, right? But... Caitlyn’s internal thoughts became disheveled and messy, trying to process the logical points from the insanity. Jinx, on the other hand, had a bright grin watching how frantically Caitlyn’s eyes flicked between the matching cupcake. The cake appeared with a fine vanilla flavor, a color near matching her skin tone, and a light blue frosting speckled with purple flakes. Jinx reached out and grabbed the cupcake with her hand, rolling it between her fingers. Caitlyn lost her ability to speak as if a noose tied itself around her throat.

Jinx dragged her tongue up over the flour, licking blood and batter together, and hummed softly before a guttural rumble escaped her throat. “Delicious.” Words left Jinx’s lips, and all Caitlyn could do was feel her bottom lip quiver in fear. Out of nowhere, Jinx lunged forward, and her hand wrapped around her throat, nails digging against Ivory’s skin and forcing her back against the chair. Caitlyn let out a roar of panic, kicking her legs as she pulled on her arms instinctively and Jinx leaned in closer, til their lips were barely inches apart and she angled her head to the left, dragging her tongue along her chin and up toward her mouth. Blood coated Caitlyn’s face, after losing her teeth and making a mess. “No!! Stop!!” Caitlyn shouted as she shook her head, unable to pull back as Jinx laughed maniacally and then took a massive bite out of the cupcake.

“Mhmm, disgustingly sweet, as you are,” Jinx muttered between chewing the food and then the other half of the cupcake. She smashed into the pool of blood. “Janna, I can’t get enough of your taste, it’s so spirit damn addicting,” She taunted, and leaned over, once more opening her mouth and biting down on Caitlyn’s neck as she kicked her feet, panic overwhelming her and the stench of fear filtering through the air. Jinx bit down just enough to leave holes against her neck, her fangs ripping through the flesh, and then she licked at the blood pooling from the holes. “Just one more hour, and then we can feast, and just like that cupcake...” Jinx angled her mouth up and whispered into Caitlyn’s ear.

“You will be the main course we eat off the ground,” Caitlyn tried to twist away, tears streaking her face, mixing against dirt and blood as she shook her head. “Fuck you!” Caitlyn choked back the words when Jinx’s hand swiped out and hit her cheek. It caused her to get dizzy and lose focus, slumping forward between consciousness again. Hands pressed against her shoulders, but not the infernal touch of the criminal before her. “Keep fighting, Caitlyn, Keep fighting,” Vi pleaded, as she Caitlyn barely registered a brush of Vi’s cheek up against the side of her face. Like a tiger spurring her to react and Caitlyn struggled; but her vision blurred and lost focus from the compressing grip closing off her airway.

Then Jinx let go. A gasp of oxygen rushed into Caitlyn’s lips, barely able to hear Vi anymore.

“Vi,” Caitlyn’s voice cracked as Jinx hauled Caitlyn up and threw her over her shoulder. “Janna, I’m going to put a muzzle on you, shut that mouth up from saying her name,” Jinx hissed, her nails digging into Caitlyn’s legs as she weakly tried to pull away. “Fuck off,” her words spat, the tiny fight left as a little echoing voice encouraged her. “That’s it, Cupcake. Fight!” Her body convulsed as she was unceremoniously dropped into a wheelchair, as she cried in pain as her back pressed up against the metal. “I’m so tired of your words, and besides, you don’t look like an enforcer enough,” Jinx said, as she reached over to the table as Caitlyn turned her head to look over. Against it was clothing. An enforcer dress, her gloves and books, and just as Jinx declared, a muzzle.

“No, No!” Caitlyn tried to turn her head, to pull on her bloody wrist that was now raw from struggling the last few hours, but Jinx gave her no choice. A giddy laughter left the loose cannon as the muzzle pressed against her face as Caitlyn shook her head. “Muzzled like the mutt you are. That’s all enforcers are - mad dogs who need to be put down.” The strap went around her head, as Jinx pulled it tight, so tightly that it bit into her skin as she shook her head like a wild animal. “MFFH!” Caitlyn cried with tears she didn’t think she had left seeped from her eyes, staining her cheeks. The wild woman sat on Caitlyn’s bare lap as she grabbed her face and turned it left and right.

“You’re missing something…” She hummed as Caitlyn stared transfixed on the demon, her shimmer eyes glowing with excitement. Caitlyn noticed Jinx’s lips were still painted red from her own blood, and it dribbled down her chin from when she licked and tasted her pooled blood on her back as she picked up a marker and twisted it in her hand. She grabbed Caitlyn’s chin as she quivered, while the woman dragged the marker over the muzzle, pressing the paint up against her cheeks. She didn’t have to see the makeshift smile painted over her lips, like some twisted mannequin enjoying this behavior. Jinx threw the marker over her shoulder as she twisted Caitlyn’s head left and right. “I really don’t see what my sister sees in you. Ugh,” Jinx rolled her head, throwing Caitlyn’s head to the side as she climbed off of her and Caitlyn struggled. “Effh offh,” Caitlyn muttered, but her voice had been silence. She pulled on her wrist, the pressure of the muzzle more acute to her skin as her fingers flexed out, trying to claw at the mask. “Oh well, my sister will always choose me in the end. I know her. She won’t choose an enforcer. Why would she?” Jinx chatted to herself as she reached for the knife and Caitlyn panicked with what little energy she had left, but then Jinx put it back down.

Tightness wheeled in her chest, as she leaned her head forward, her hair cascading around her face to hide the fear as she silently sobbed. Jinx had ripped her autonomy from her grasp and she felt like an object at Jinx’s hand. Part of a twisted plan against Vi, and she didn’t even know what it was. And now she couldn’t even talk. The muzzle left her jaw clamped together, with only muffled tones like a whimpering animal. “It won’t be much longer,” Jinx grinned as she grabbed Caitlyn’s face, forcing her bloodshot eyes to look up at her. “Just know you will make a delicious feast for me and my sister. At least you’ll have some use. Can’t let good meat go to waste,” Jinx taunted, as Caitlyn’s eyes went wide at the flash of fangs as Jinx licked at her lips and her teeth. “Efhf!” Caitlyn tried to say something back, but she couldn’t, which left her terror the only thing to hang onto now. No words of defiance, no way to fight back. Sheer horror held Caitlyn now and Jinx reveled in this ultimate position.

Hands suddenly wrapped around Caitlyn’s throat as Caitlyn’s muffled scream echoed through the halls. “Why use gas when I can knock you out this way?” Jinx laughed maniacally as her fingers tightened around her throat, nails digging against her skin and pricking at her throat. Little droplets of blood seeped from her skin, but Caitlyn didn’t acknowledge that. Instead, it was the air that was choked from her throat. She pulled on her wrist, flexing her hands as she couldn’t breathe. The more she tried to, the tighter Jinx’s grip became. “I need to dress you and as much as I enjoy the fight, I have other party guests to invite!” The feline kept her bite tight with her hands, as Caitlyn’s eyes were wide in terror. No air went to her lungs as she saw sparkling spots again, filtering through her vision as she kicked her feet. The woman pushed down harder against her throat. A high-pitched giggle emitted through Jinx’s teeth. Caitlyn’s visions muddied as she grappled to get oxygen to her lungs. From the physical exhaustion of the torture to her mental capacity, it only took less than a minute to fall unconscious from the loss of oxygen and being choked by the she-wolf.

The last thing she remembered was her shimmer eyes, a demonic glint of satisfaction over the control she held, and the giggling laughter of a maniac that held her life in the balance.

[arcanescionmoved]

⌜ @independentzaun ⌟ ―― Caitlyn & Jinx

The first thing Caitlyn remembered was the pain in the back of her head. The disorientation caused the pain to fog her eyes and she shook her head as if to shake away the pain. Slowly she lifted her head and pressed it against the back of the wall. The entire area felt humid and damp, as she focused on piecing together what had happened and where she currently sat. Cerulean eyes opened up, forcing herself to push past the pain and get her bearing. The sooner she did this, the sooner she could figure out how to get out. Rumble covered the entire space, old and rusted. The little bit of light that filtered through showed flakes of age over metal and dirt, and cobwebs in the corners of spaces. Despite the age, not a sound came from the abandoned warehouse which made it that more eerie, as if its weariness had come to a silent stop. It was then she could smell of stagnation and the mustiness of residue dirt. The rubble against her back sent a chill down her spine, as she could feel the damp coldness against her bare skin registering the fact that she was nude.

The only sight of color was the pinkish purple veins, weaving and twisting around the rubble, and would reflect against any moonlight that managed to filter through the abandoned warehouse.

"Dammit," Caitlyn whispered, as she moved tried to move her wrist to the side to get up. The didn't move the way she wanted, her mind still working against the dizziness of pain. Moving her head from the wall she looked down to see her wrist bound with rope. She growled and tried to twist her wrist as they rubbed against the harsh hemp rope. Another set seemed to have been wrapped over her arms around her waist, tight enough that she couldn't pull her arms up, and any movement caused the thick rope to scratch and rub against her bare arms. "Shit," She whispered as she noted the same wrap was haphazardly wrapped around her ankles, but enough that she wouldn't be running anytime soon. It took every inch of willpower to muster down the panic in her chest as she tried to access a way to get free. She started to examine her surroundings, shifting to pull her legs back, and looked to her side to try and find a jagged piece of metal. Leaning down she grabbed it with her hand and twisted it around, trying to cut through the thick rope that kept her bound.

Rapid eye movement came, looking around to make sure no one was about, trying to work quickly though with her position it was hard to handle the metal against the rope. It didn't stop her though, as she just steadily worked at trying to get out of the restrictive position.