#fort: stares into the void

[bird-inacage]

A Fortpeat Gifset | Waking Up a Sleepy Fort

The first clip of him is one of the cutest things I've ever seen. You can tell his brain is still rebooting 😂

[yuri-is-online]

Here's a short list of things that I think would affect yuu (not from an omegaverse world) being in twisted wonderland (omegaverse au)

The scent thing. In my mind, everyone has a scent, including betas, theirs are just weaker. So how would Yuu, who has no scent, be classified? Would ortho or idia want to study them and see what's different between twst folks and earth folks? Scent is usually just noted in smut scenes, but it does have a larger role in most a/b/o stories. Mainly, it's how people communicate emotions. If you're happy, it shows in your scent. If your distressed, it shows in your scent. If your scared, excited, horny, anxious, it shows in your scent. People probably focus on scent when it comes to emotions before they focus on your face or body language. So figuring out what Yuu is feeling is probably a lot harder. It's even worse if Yuu isn't that expressive in the first place. Although it does make me wonder about how people try to hide their scents when their trying to be aloof or stoic...

Noises. This also ties into emotions, the more extreme ones at least. A/b/o twst people purr when their happy or content and growl when they're feeling territorial. Yuu might be able to growl, not very well but whatever. But purring? Yeah no. Not happening. Bless Jades heart he's trying so hard to give Yuu gifts they like and listening for a purr and it just. Never comes. Also imagine being Yuu and you're just getting growled at on a daily basis that's just gotta suck lmoa

Warnings for menstruation and omega heats 🤩 (also jade thinks his partner got SAed so HUGE TW). I personally think that TWST doesn't have periods. Mostly because I read Period Drama series by twstfanblog and was like "Yeah sure I'll integrate that into my belief system". So Yuus under a lot of stress right? Especially those first few months and overblots, so I think it's safe to say that an AFAB Yuus cycle would probably skip over those few months or even a year until everything calms down. And then boom! Ovulation! Jade thinks it's a preheat or a heat and is trying SO HARD to be respectful because they did not talk about this before hand and he doesn't know if he's aloud to "help" them the way he's wants to. Doesn't exactly help that Yuus throwing themself at him every step of the way and asking shit like "Hey if we have kids what would you name them :D?". Yuu is killing him. All in all though, it's a pretty subdue heat, they're not confined to their nest (a messy pile of pillows, blankets, and cushions that they impulsively made in Ramshackle one day) or anything, they can go to class and move around just fine (he doesn't let them though. He doesn't need any perverts possibly getting off or fantasizing about something only he should be fantasizing about), and unfortunately, they're not keeping him in their nest and letting him breed them until they forget their own name, so it all worked out just fine. And then about a week later, he goes to Sam's first thing in the morning to buy more snacks and comes back to the strong scent of his loves blood, only to find out that blood was coming from "the void" and they're curled up in pain, and crying. Yeah that was the worst moment of Jades life, actually. 0/10. Would not recommend. He almost killed several people that day 👍

Nests. Yuu doesn't know what the hell a "nest" is or why Jade freaked out so hard with joy when they made their shitty little pillow fort but hey! At least he's happy! Look at him! Just vibrating with joy! While he's sitting just outside the fort and is just... staring at them..... Is he not gonna come in? So now their scooching over and awkwardly patting the spot next to them- and Jades eyes just dilated SO HARD ok

Ruts and knots. The Fun Shit. Jade asked (very flusteredly) if Yuu would be willing to help him through his upcoming rut and Yuus like 🧍👍🧎. And it's a lot more intense than they were expecting. Bro is looking a half step away from feral as he carries Yuu over to the "nest" and just let's go fully shortly after they start. And Yuu is throughly enjoying it but also- isn't this a little much?!It's just a week of a bad Coleen Hoover novel where all they do is have sex and sleep! They ain't built for this! Honestly, they're just a doll for him at this point because there is not a THOUGHT behind those eyes expect for Jade and his dick and they ain't even mad about it!

That last section wasn't a question I was just thirsty. Damn this ask got long as hell shit.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH bless you. My lifespan... my strength... it is returning 2 me.

I think a lot of this could be cleared up with some communication, but at the same time poor Yuu wouldn't know what they were supposed to be communicating.

If scents are reflective of emotion and how people communicate, I would think they reflect people's personalities in the same way facial expressions do? So a particularly stoic person (like say Silver) would have a much more muted scent when he's happy than someone who is much more expressive (like Kalim.) Of the people who would be most distressed by Yuu's lack of scent, I think it would actually be Riddle since I could see him thinking it is a medical issue they need to get checked out ASAP. It would certainly isolate them from their peers even more than not being a mage would, making them a real alien as far as most people in Twisted Wonderland would be concerned.

Now. Jade. My beloved. I think after he manages to successfully court Yuu he would be very smug about this because he would be maybe one of the only people in Twisted Wonderland able to pick up on Yuu's unique body language. But that's in the future, now he's struggling because on top of no scent there's no purrs D:< He's fantasized about what it would sound like sosososososo many times and he is worryingly close to realizing that he's not above begging. He just wants some praise from his chosen mate... please...

lmao about the growling I just would not be able to take that seriously and probably make some dumb comment that would get my ass beat. But if it was really loud that would stress me out.

... oh poor Jade. In my head I am thinking of Yuu maybe having been told by a (concerned) adeuce that Jade is attempting to court them so they start trying to reciprocate (which does not help anyone's concerns) but they haven't really talked about what exactly that means yet. So by the time Yuu starts ovulating they're still in what Yuu might consider to be a "talking" phase? Because Jade hasn't asked to make things official? Whereas Jade is simultaneously on cloud nine planning the wedding and in the depths of despair wondering how best to continue his courtship efforts because oh he wants to help you with your heat so badly :c he's in a permanent state of horny grip the entire week and so tense. Yuu wonders if it would be too much to offer to help him relax since they aren't all that close yet so they figure they'll ask him some questions to see how he reacts and all that and he is extremely receptive but he still doesn't make a move, even if he does insist on talking to them around the pillow fort a lot?

Speaking of the pillow fort... I'm just picturing Jade sitting so pretty and heavy breathing while Yuu is sat there very confused because he is buzzing with excitement but they can't tell what kind. Man relationships are real hard so is jade when you add in alien biology and customs to them please let him help you hope you aren't doing something wrong? you could never please please please just one chance Yuu one chaaaaance

The period stuff... I don't think my mind would jump to SA but certainly some sort of attack and Jade being Jade, he would not let that stand. Thankfully no one actually gets hurt since Jade asks Yuu for names and they have a very strange conversation about reproductive biology. Oh so you are bleeding because you aren't pregnant? Well that sounds like such an easy fix~ And is probably when you finally have that talk about how horny he was all last week because he asks, very earnestly asks to help you through your next "heat" so you don't have to endure this pain again.

Since you were being thirsty allow me to share some of my... thoughts (￣▽￣||)

I feel like Jade would want to take Yuu in his merform at some point if not first because he wants them to think about it. He wants to ruin them for anyone who is not very specifically him and he is not shy about it, but alas the omega decides where to build the nest and you chose "poorly." Yuu is getting their guts rearranged while Jade bullies them about their poor nest building skills. It's ok, he just finds you so cute maybe he'll walk you through it next time? Sure he's never had to build a nest, never felt the need but he's sure if you follow his instructions nice and slowly you'll do just fine.

You wind up in Ramshackle's tub more than once. Just don't complain about not being able to remember most of it because he'll just take that as you wanting a redo. Say less, he's been good for too long anyway *smack*

[maiko-san]

TADC x Robotic Jester! Reader (Part 2)

Part 1

Since part 1 doing so well, I'll be making part 2

ft. Jax, Gangle

You're not really sure how time really works in the digital circus, but who cares anyway? You just live your own life here without worrying about anything especially your human past.

You're at The Tent, practicing your skill on a tricycle while juggling lit torches in your hands and on a tightrope.

Ragatha had gone to her room to rest while Kinger is in his pillow fort, probably thinking about his insect collection.

You were too focus juggling the torches and not noticing a pair of scissors cutting the rope. The last thing you hear was a 'snap' and then you fall on the ground quite comically ( in cartoony way ) followed by a laughter. You let out a groan and shakes your head, you couldn't help but growl as turn your head to face the culprit.

It was the newcomer, Jax.

JAX

Number 1 pain the as#&! in the entire circus. You don't like him one bit ever since he first appeared.

He loves tormenting others and saying "I love to see something funny happen to people" follow that stupid grin of his.

"Hahahaha! Look how funny you look when you fall, you look so stupid!" he laughed. Your teeth clenched together. "It's not funny....rabbit" you said, standing up and dusting your clothes.

Sometimes you have the urge to throw him into the void but Caine somehow can hear your thoughts and tell you not to or he will confiscate all of your items and give you a timeout.

"It would be more funny if you were to set on fire— oh wait, you already are!" Jax grins, you stare at him in disbelief. You take a whiff and you swore you smell something burning, your tail kinda feels hot for some reason.

You turn your head to see that the tip of your tail is on fire.

Let's just say, Jax loves tormenting you the most. You remind him of those cartoon characters in tv shows!

Some of his pranks can be overboard and there are times it causes you to become malfunction all thanks to his pranks especially when he pours water into your joint circuits, causing your limbs to twist uncontrollably.

He doesn't care that he hurts someone (or even cares about their feelings). Knowing that Caine could fix/solves everything with a snap of his fingers.

Jax is straight up a bunny from hell.

None of the others like Jax including you.

You just don't know what his problem is but if he ever dares to hurt your friends with his silly pranks, you won't hesitate to throw him into the void.

You roll your eyes and sigh, with him around the area making you lose interest in training. So, you decide to leave and go back to your room or go to Ragatha's.

After a few days had passed, a new human had appeared in the circus.

Gangle

A ribbon with a mask? She's an odd one.

The very first moment she arrived, she was nervous and scared.

Caine was about to give her a name until Jax decided to name her himself.

"How about Gangle? They do move so 'graceful' " he said with a proud grin on his face, you look at him in disbelief. Seriously? That just mean! ( Gangle means moves ungracefully ). Before you could protest about the name, Caine just agreed with the suggestion he have given.

"Well! Gangle, welcome to your new home!" Caine smiles.

For the first few days, Gangle did really well actually. You notice that she has two masks with her, that is her comedy mask and tragedy mask.

Gangle is very light since she was made out of ribbons, if you run past her the poor girl gets knocked down by the wind and breaks her mask at the same time.

You did it once and you feel guilty for doing so.

So you remind yourself to always be careful whenever you're around her.

Gangle really appreciates how you are so careful and gentle around her, unlike Jax who pushes her on purpose whenever he feels like it.

Every time she breaks her comedy mask, you would offer to fix it for her but she softly declines.

"Wah!" again, Jax tripped her over when she walks past him. Her comedy mask falls off her tragic mask and smashes on the floor, "My...my comedy mask" Gangle sobs as she holds up a piece of her shattered mask.

She sighs to herself and picks up the mask piece by the piece, she stops when a hand hovers her.

She looks up to see Ragatha, Kinger and you. You couldn't help but let out a scoff, glaring at the rabbit "Seriously, Jax? Again." you glare at the purple rabbit. "Pfft. What? Not my fault that she doesn't see it coming~" he said, closing his eyes as he shrugs off what he has just done.

Gangle and Ragatha could see that you're on your last straw. Your limbs extend and wrap themselves around the rabbit, causing Jax to blink in surprise.

The next thing, Jax was thrown out of the tent. There was a Jax shaped hole left on the roof of the tent, indicating he was thrown high up.

Gangle didn't expect for you to do it, she was shocked. She appreciates that you stood up for her but at the same time, feeling that she's a burden.

You assure her that it wasn't a problem and tell her if Jax ever bothers her again with his silly pranks, don't be afraid to tell you :D.

A/N :

State in the wiki, Jax gets to choose his own name when he first arrive and he also chooses Gangle's name too.

If you're thinking that "Jax is too mean!' that's what he is, he's just a straight up a-hole and a sociopath(?).

[sunnydaze4ever]

Hiii, can you do a gn!reader x qiu (step 2) late night date, like, they sneak out and stargaze :3 (IM SORRY IF I BROKE ANY RULES OR ASKED 4 TOO MUCH 😭😭😭😭)

Qiu Lin x Reader

Stargaze

Romantic, Fluff, Step 2

————————————

Many things have changed over the past 4 years. But a few things haven’t, and those things led to nights like tonight. Ma probably wouldn’t want you up this late. It was a school night after all. But you couldn’t hold back a smile when, during another night where you were popping out for fresh air, you saw your neighbors legs draped over the floor of their fort.

You tip-toed over to their side of the grass framing the three houses in the cul-de-sac. You walked over to them before poking them in the side of their leg. The mass half hidden by the wood of hide out sat up before peering down at you. You stared up at them with a goofy smile. They couldn’t help snickering. They slid down, their feet missing any of the rocks stuck in the wall that were probably there for this purpose.

The second their feet hit the ground, you were off. Going further into the forest. It didn’t take long to find a nice area where the sky wasn’t obscured by the trees surrounding the two of you. You plopped onto the silky grass, your knees digging into the dirt below you.

“Hi.” You said, still with that goofy smile. You had said it to fill the silence that was surrounding the two of you. Qiu looked back at you, a smile on their face as well. Their smile had always been something you admired, even when you met 4 years ago.

“Hey.” They said in return. They settled onto the ground with you. You were both lucky that the sky was clear that night. Stars were covering the area, illuminating the spot like the entire world was watching the two of you. And in your minds, it might as well be.

You laid back, head hitting the soft grass. Small raindrops littered the area from a previous shower, but it wasn’t unpleasant. Qiu’s gaze was directed up at the sky, you didn’t see it but you knew. And you couldn’t help tilting your head over to gaze at them.

You had a smile that could only be described by loving. Qiu’s gaze dropped to yours without even tilting their head. They seemed to be unable to hold back a smirk. Their eyes went back to the sky, as did yours. You couldn’t remember how many times you’d been in this forest.

Despite that, it felt different this time. I mean, what’s more romantic than hanging out with your crush while stargazing? You spotted some constellations dotting the dark blueish black void above you both. Orion, the Big Dipper, Cygnus.

You wondered how often the stars shifted. You wondered if it was as often as humans did. Qiu did, Tamarack did, you did too. But some still stuck together. They still came together to paint a picture for everyone’s enjoyment.

You glanced to Qiu again. They looked at you. It was as if you could communicate with a single gaze. One that said I’ll be here. Qiu stretched a bit, the charming smirk going back to their resting face.

They yawned and turned onto their side, the one facing you. “I’ll nudge you when we should head back.” You said. Qiu smiled again. You both knew you’d be there if they needed you.

Qiu closed their eyes. It was debatable if they were actually napping. You knew no matter what the stars looked like in the future, you’d sit under them once again with Qiu by your side.

————————————

Thank you for the request! You didn’t break any rules. I hope you enjoy this! I’m not great at writing step 2 yet 🥲 Sorry this took so long btw!

Have a great day!

[thescarletnargacuga]

Art: @iamespecter

CHAPTER TWO

Racing AU

After the excitement of the track wears off, Pomni's situation sinks in. She's trapped. The others try to make her feel welcome and introduce her to Kaufmo. What could go wrong?

WARNING: angst, abstraction, some violence

Ch1

The racers all filed into the garage as the NPC audience cheered their last. Caine joined them inside and snapped his fingers. All their karts teleported inside to their respective part of the open floor plan garage. There was a spiraling metal stair case to a second floor loft that lined the outer wall. Every upstairs door lead out to overlook the garage. To the far right was a lounge with comfortable looking couches and chairs and recreational activities; such as pool and table tennis.

Pomni wiped the last of the confetti off her shoulder as she looked around. "Is this...all there is?"

"Of course not!" Caine chimed in before anyone else could answer. "In between races you have full use of the practice track! Take a look!" He opened the blinds and the outside looked different. The start line was the same but the stands where empty. The track no longer led underground but instead continued to curve around the garage and looped back to the start in a perfect oval. "And inside, you can play mini games with your new friends!" Pomni stared at the others with uncertainty. "Also!" Caine pulled Pomni by the hand to an empty kart area of the garage. "You can customize your kart! Everything from the engine and tires to the body and paint! The only limit is your imagination!"

"And the game's source engine." Jax added. "I've already tested that. He won't let you add more that five accessories to the kart or you end up clipping into the void."

"The...void?" Pomni paled.

"Now, Jax. We needn't bring THAT up. It's nothing to concern yourself with, my dear. There are many safety features in place to prevent that from happening. I can assure you, as host, I've never lost anyone in the void. I know all your positions at all times thanks to my wacky watch!" Caine proudly showed the small purple TV on his wrist. Six blips appeared on screen.

Caine tapped his watch. "Huh...Welp, I gotta get going! The tracks don't generate themselves! I've got to prepare for tomorrow's race! Speak to one of our Bubble assistants if you have any more questions!" Then with a pop, he was gone.

Pomni took a step back and rubbed her arms as she looked at everyone still staring at her. "Look, uh... The race was fun, but...how do I...leave?"

The others looked down or away from her. None of them wanting to be the one to tell her.

Jax groaned incredulously. "You can't. None of us can."

"Jax!" Ragatha scolded. "Why do have to be so tactless!?"

"Because there is no tact when it comes to telling someone they're stuck in digital purgatory for all of eternity, Ragatha!" He got nose to nose with her and they glared at each other.

"Please, don't fight." Gangle whimpered.

"Seriously. Will you two get a grip?" Zooble rolled their eyes and looked at Pomni. "He's right though. Welcome to your new home." Zooble then went to the pinball machine in the lounge.

"What? Why can't we leave? I don't understand. Isn't this just a game?" Pomni felt he face again for the headset she barely remembered she had on before appearing here.

"It was supposed to be just a game..." A quiet voice came from the lounge. Kinger had turned the couch cushions and pillows into a fort and was securely inside it. "People were never meant to be stuck here. Something went wrong."

Pomni got closer to the fort. "What went wrong?"

Kinger popped his head out. "What went where?"

"You'll have to excuse him." Ragatha sighed. "He's been here the longest."

"That's why he's crazy!" Laughed Jax. "That's all our fates, Pomni. Giving into the madness or being broken by it."

Ragatha grabbed a pillow and chucked it at Jax. "Go be a nuisance somewhere else!"

"My impenetrable fortress!" Cried Kinger as the missing pillow left a hole in his carefully made fort.

"Fine. I've got better things to do anyway. Like eat. Hey, Bubble chef!" Jax walked off to a table set for dining and a Bubble appeared to assist him.

Gangle got the pillow Ragatha threw and fixed Kinger's fort.

"Thank you." Kinger sighed with relief and disappeared inside.

Ragatha put a gentle hand on Pomni's shoulder. "Look...being here isn't so bad. Caine keeps us busy and we have each other." She glared at Jax. "For better or worse. There's one person you haven't met yet, he wasn't at the race today. Would you like to come with me to check on him?"

Pomni had been out of it as she really processed her situation. No way to leave. Stuck in digital purgatory. Forever. She could never go back to the life she had. Everything and everyone she had known didn't matter anymore. She vomited.

Ragatha jumped back to keep from stepping in it, but kept her hand on Pomni. She gently steered Pomni to the stairs. "Come on, Kaufmo will cheer you up. He's very good at it. Clean up!" She called out and a Bubble appeared.

"I'm on it!" The Bubble proceeded to lick up the mess. Gangle was nearly sick herself witnessing it.

Ragatha and Pomni went upstairs and walked along the long loft towards Kaufmo's room.

"Ragatha...I'm confused. Why participate in the races at all? Why not search for a way out? Are we really sure we can't leave?" Pomni said quietly.

"You aren't the first person to search for the exit, many have tried. None have succeeded." They walked past door after door. Many blank but a few had faces. Unknown faces with red Xs painted over them. "We all looked for a way out at some point or another, but we've come to accept our place here because ...well, constantly pursuing an unobtainable goal will drive you to mind breaking insanity. And when you've reached that point...there's no return."

"[@#$& !¥π∆]" Pomni muttered, the cartoonish sound effects not phasing her this time.

"...I know." Ragatha frowned and knocked on the door to Kaufmo's room. No answer. "Kaufmo? Hey, you in there? We got a new racer today! Wanna meet her?" No answer. "Huh, maybe he's not in his room?"

BOOM!

Something large and heavy hit the wall in front of them. It shook the building and got the attentions of those still downstairs.

BOOM!!

The wall around Kaufmo's door started to crack. The door itself buckling from impact.

BOOM!!!

The door flew off the wall, Ragatha and Pomni dove out of the way, missing it by inches. The door hit the railing and fell end over end to the ground floor with a loud crash. The girls looked up at the emerging creature from the broken doorframe. A beast of indeterminate dimensions snarled as it's many eyes look wildly around in their sockets.

"What is that!?"

"Remember that whole 'point of no return'? This is it! Run, Pomni!" Ragatha took off down her section of the railing. Pomni turned on her heel and ran the opposite direction. The beast tried swiping at them both, causing it to flop on the railing in front of it, crushing it. The beast roared and randomly chose to go after Pomni. Those on the ground could only watch as Pomni circle the building trying to get to the stairs.

"What's happening!?" Gangle screamed, hiding behind Zooble.

Zooble looked up in horror as they connected the dots. "Kaufmo...no."

Jax sat under the dinner table with the stack of pancakes he ordered. He sighed and took a bite. "Here we go again."

Pomni made it to the stairs before Ragatha and slid down the railing. She fumbled the landing but kept running to the door that led outside. The beast caught Ragatha at the stairs and smashed her against the wall. The janked nature of the beast made Ragatha glitch. She screamed as she was thrown around again and again, eventually being tossed over the side and landing hard on the garage floor.

The beast jumped with the intent to crush Ragatha, but Gangle's ribbon grabbed her leg and pulled her free of the impact zone. The beast came down hard and broke the floor, textures started glitching in and out.

"In here! Quick!" Kinger opened his fortress and beckoned Zooble, Ragatha and Gangle inside. They hunkered down and held each other as they heard the beast get up from its fall. It roared and started smashing at an outside wall.

"Pomni is still out there!" Ragatha was barely understandable through her glitched speech pattern. "We have to help her!"

"No! Stay out of sight. Safe." Kinger stuttered out. The bashing and crashing of the abstracted Kaufmo brought back too many memories. He curled himself in the fetal position and stared at nothing.

Zooble pulled off one of their eyes and used it to discreetly peak out. The beast was trying to break though the wall where the entrance door was. They looked around and saw Jax still under the dining table, just finishing his pancakes. "He's right. Caine's never gone for too long. We have to wait this out. ...like last time."

"And the time before that and the time before that and the time before that-" Kinger repeated.

Gangle held Zooble's hand. Despite her best brave face, she was shaking. "It's Kaufmo, isn't it?"

Zooble nodded.

Gangle started to cry. "I didn't think it'd be him next. He was always so...so..."

"Happy? Yeah, hate to break it to you, but if someone is happy all the time...they're not." Zooble put their eye back and held Ragatha's glitching hand. It made their own arm glitch but they bared the pain to be of some comfort to Ragatha.

BOOM!!

The building shook as the beast made it outside. It saw Pomni making a break for the stands and charged. Pomni ran as fast as her new little legs could go. She could see an entryway inside the stands, maybe she could hide there. Over her shoulder, she could see the beast gaining. Not looking ahead, she ran into the door and fell on her ass.

She scrambled for the door handle. The beast was nearly upon her and WHAM! She made it though the frame just in time. She got to her feet and ran in any direction away from the door. She saw some stairs with a sign that read "Announcer Booth" and she bolted up them. The higher she went the more the textures around her started to de-load.

"For [✓√@&#] sake, how tall is this tower??" She huffed. She took a moment to catch her breath when she finally made it to the top and took a look around. She wasn't in any kind of tower, in fact, it looked like she wasn't anywhere at all. Blank gridded walls and ceilings went as far as the eye could see. Unused textures and assets sparsely dotted the landscape. Peices of half built track hovered unsupported. Obstacles still in the process of being designed.

"Pomni? What are you doing here??"

Pomni screamed at the top of her lungs and swung around to see Caine hovering just feet from where she stood. Tie loose, cane, top hat, and coat missing, he looked as though he'd been very busy and she interrupted him.

"I realize you're new around here, so you didn't know, but I don't like people seeing my unfinished work. It's...well, a bit embarrassing." He cleared his non-existent throat. "You'll get a front row view of my latest creation tomorrow, I promise! I'll just send you back now."

"WAIT!"

Caine paused mid-snap.

"There's a thing outside! It attacked us!"

"Attacked? No enemies should be in bounds this late in the day."

"No, No! It was the guy! The UHHH-" Pomni struggled to remember the name in panic.

Caine gave her a look. "The 'guy'? Really now, if you just wanted an excuse to stay up here, you could have just said so. I do have a few mostly completed projects I suppose I could show you-"

"NO! THE GUY! THE CLOWN! THE- THE- KAUFMO! That's his name! Kaufmo turned into some beast and is breaking everything! He hurt Ragatha!"

"Kaufmo abstracted!? Why didn't you say so!" He grabbed Pomni's hand and teleported with her to the starting line. There they saw the beast still bashing it's head(?) against the door to the stands. He snapped his fingers and the monster started to levitate.

"Into the cellar you go." A pit opened as Caine lowered the beast down.

Pomni was floating with Caine and the pit opening made her grab his arm tightly. She watched the beast that was Kaufmo fall down into the darkness, his roar sounding like a pitiful wail as the pit closed.

"Well...that's that." Caine's usual boisterous voice came out somber as he looked down where the pit had been.

"How many times has this happened?" Pomni asked, her voice raspy from screaming.

"Too many times." Caine left it at that as he snapped his fingers again and the damage to the buildings repaired. He teleported inside with Pomni to check his charges.

"Caine! About [@#$&!] time!" Zooble grunted as they fought to keep their own composer, helping Ragatha out of the pillow fort.

"Oop-" Caine snapped his fingers and they were normal again. He then floated down to let Pomni touch solid ground again. "Sorry about that, everyone. I was looking for Kaufmo initially, his signature wasn't coming up on my wacky watch, but then I...you know, got distracted. So much work and only so much me to handle it all." He laughed nervously. "Speaking of which, I really need to get back to it. Big race tomorrow! Rest up, my little superstars!" He poofed away.

A heavy silence fell over everyone. They looked at each other, shaken over when just happened. The building was completely repaired, even Kaufmo's room. No signs that someone abstracted. Like it never happened...or mattered.

Jax stretched as he stood up from the floor. "Uuuuugh! Finally. I was tired of sitting under there."

Ragatha saw red. She stormed over to Jax and smacked him hard enough to echoe through the garage. "What the [@#$!] is wrong with you!? Kaufmo just- he- how can you take this so lightly!?" Tears burned her unbuttoned eye.

Jax rubbed his face but otherwise didn't flinch from Ragatha. "How can you take this so seriously? It's not like it's the first time it's happened. And it won't be the last." He looked down at her. "I'm going to bed, unless anyone else wants to smack the [@#$&] out of me?" No one looked at him so he pocketed his hands and went upstairs.

Ragatha broke down into sobs. Gangle tried to comfort her. Zooble couldn't handle any more and left to their room. Kinger was politely putting all of the pillows back to her original places. Pomni went to him.

"Hey, uh...Kinger, right?"

"AH! Oh, hello, didn't see you there." He yeeted the pillow he was holding when he got startled so he clasped his hands together in front of him.

"The... Kaufmo thing-"

"Abstraction." Kinger said flatly.

"Uh, yeah...how many times has it happened?"

"So many times. So many friends. So many-"

"Give me a number. Please." Pomni tried to disguise her frustration with a smile.

"Eight people started the race. Then there were seven. Then six. Then seven. Then six. Then four. Then five. Then eight. Then seven. Then six. Then five. Then six. Then five. Then six. Then seven. Then six." Kinger started to shake in place, his eyes bloodshot.

Pomni took a step back. "Yeesh, maybe you are just crazy." She looked to Ragatha and Gangle having a cry over Kaufmo. She felt awkward possibly interrupting so she went upstairs.

She followed the doors. So many Xs. So many "abstractions". Was this really their fate? To play some game forever or risk falling apart? Her mind raced as she finally saw a door with her face on it. It's big, pleading eyes staring back at her.

"I'm getting out of here. Death would be a kinder fate than this." She took one last glance at the X'd doors and went inside her room.

~~~

Ch3

[s0ftb1tch12]

i may not be able to write out actual fanfic but i can put out ideas that scratch my brain and make me scream into the void

SO

being hazel callahan’s passenger princess and going on night drives when you both can’t sleep

going to zoos and aquariums where she rambles out fun facts on her favourite animals

staring at the chains around her neck so often she notices and buys you matching ones (same thing with rings, even better if they’re from brittany’s jewelry business)

movie marathon dates under a blanket fort complete with fairy lights, fluffy blankets, and snacks

fidgeting with each other’s hands while having long talks about whatever

i’m a FIRM believer in cocky!hazel after a few months of dating. once she knows you’ll stick with her for the long run, she’s not as nervous and acts more flirty (lingering touches, cheesier words, etc)

she may not be able to cook but she’ll surely try and learn your favorite foods (i think she’s more of a baker since baking is kinda like chemistry and we all know how she feels about explosive reactions)

on that note, i do believe she’s top of her class in chemistry or physics (thinking about her tutoring you in those subjects but those study dates eventually lead to makeout sessions)

that kiss scene towards the end of the movie and the fact that she wears rings really inspired me,,, y’all know where this is going probably (i NEED someone to write this desperately because i ain’t seen it anywhere and i’m down BAD)

literally any member of band!gf x loser!gf (i’m talking bassists, guitarists, drummers, lead singers)

those fics with cheerleader gf x loser gf !!! smth i haven’t seen with this trope yet is cheerleader gf surprising her with her strength, carrying her princess style

goth!gf x nerd!gf: her letting you do her eyeliner like yours, sitting in her lap as she lies down (like this 😩)

bimbo!gf x loser!gf: your average oblivious hyperfem with her awkward masc relationship, even better if bimbo!gf wears heels often so she’s taller than hazel who is at perfect height for forehead kisses (usually leaving lipstick marks that she doesn’t notice until pj basically screams and points at it)

hazel carrying a bunch of chapstick or hair ties in her backpack in case her gf forgets hers

thrifting dates because slow fashion is important

as a sanrio girlie, i think hazel would love pompompurin and his little hat

hazel acts kinda like a little golden retriever so she would definitely get along will with dogs but i like to think she’s a cat person, cats fucking LOVE her and she is always feeding the strays on her block

hazel is a tea girlie and yes she does have fun facts about them (chamomile became v important after her parents divorce)

hazel likes simulation games like stardew valley and role playing games like baldur’s gate (she spends hours making her character) (yes this is self indulgent because i love bg3)

she loves handmade gifts; make this baby a mug, crochet her a sweater, paint her a picture and she will melt

soooooo many trinkets on her shelves (god i wish we saw her room in the movie)

she def has a less common pet (reptiles, bugs, rodents [like ferrets])

a bird would be nice for hazel if i’m being honest, she talks to it everyday but especially after a bad day (like when pj dismisses whatever cool thing she wants to talk about at lunch and changes the topic by talking over her)

idk what else to say rn but best believe that my brain will rot again because the gay shit will not be going away any time soon

[dreaming-medium]

Animals Without Direction

Chapter Thirty-Six: Drums

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Masterlist

Drums.

The marching sounds like drums. 

It reverberates through your body like a second heartbeat. Each and every beat sends a shock wave of fear and anxiety right through you.

Just as the sky was brightening, you started to hear it. The drums of evil. The drums of death .

You and Hyunjin were the first to pick up on it, your Elven ears piqued immediately on the first thud. 

The two of you have not left each other’s side since the gate closed. The stone walls surrounding you somehow don’t make you feel as safe as the hand firmly clasped in yours does. 

Hyunjin’s presence is keeping you sane. Every instinct in your body is screaming to leave. Every iota of your being is begging for you to turn tail and run. 

Both of you are standing in the center of the fort, both eyes facing forward, away from the gate. You know they’re coming from the south and the west. Jeongin and Changbin lie behind the hill to the North. 

Louder and louder the drums begin to sound. They sound more like footsteps the closer they get. You begin to hear their armor clinking, their swords bashing against their shields to intimidate you.

Hyunjin squeezes your hand tighter. He’s trembling. Same as you.

Every hair on your body feels like it's standing up. There’s a permanent lump in your throat. 

“I have seen many battles in my day,” Hyunjin whispers for your ears only. “Never have I felt like this before.”

You only hold his hand tighter.

Any moment now, you’ll need to let go and grab a hold of the sword that feels so heavy on your hip. The sword attached to the belt that Jeongin secured to your body with such care. 

The ghost of his kiss sits on your lips.

The archers on the top of the stone walls shift around. They’re all sitting against the wall to conceal themselves from view. The six other foot soldiers stand in the center of the fort with you and Hyunjin.

Louder. Louder. Louder .

You can’t hear your heartbeat anymore. You can only feel it. 

Tighter. Tighter. Tighter .

You’re grateful for each second you get to hold his hand. 

One of the archers makes eye contact with you. His bow is held in front of him with a nocked arrow not yet pulled back to be fired.

The two of you stare at one another before his eyes move behind you. They widen. He gulps. 

What did he see? 

You fight every instinct to not turn your head. 

Do not stare directly into the eyes of the Void, Y/N.

Louder. Louder. Louder.

Do not stare death in the face. 

Tighter. Tighter. Tighter.

Swallow your doom and let it sit in your stomach with your last meal.

Louder. Louder. Louder–

It stops.

It’s silent. 

It was silent before your parents saw the Mercy Division through the window, too.

Your eyes drift up to the sky. It's not quite blue yet. It’s painted orange and pink.

Not a single cloud to be seen. 

How beautiful. 

But, yesterday’s sunset was probably prettier…

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

Every single archer stands up, pulls back their bowstring, and looses their arrows at the same time.

Twelve arrows soar through the air. You have no idea if any of them hit their targets. The yelling starts immediately following the whizzing noises that came from the attack.  

It’s a roar. 

It rips right through you like a lightning bolt.

“By The Six,” you murmur. How many of them are there? 

Hyunjin squeezes your hand one last time, pulling your attention to him.

Your eyes meet. 

“For Miroh,” he says to you.

“For Elves ,” you respond.

He stares at you for a second, grabbing your face with two warm hands and pressing a long kiss to your forehead. His hands feel so warm on your cheeks. He somehow fights off the December chill. 

“Thank you, Y/N,” he hisses against your skin. 

He lets you go just as quickly.

The two of you part and your hand reaches for your sword like second nature.

A wave of arrows comes over the top of the wall, blindy coming down into the center of the fort. None of them are near your body, but still, you flinch. 

The shield of absorption comes off your back and you hold it securely on your arm.

Every archer knocks back another arrow and lets them fly. Over and over again, they reach into their quivers and pull arrows out, not even giving themselves time to think before they’re fired into the hoard.

It’s only a few seconds before another barrage of arrows comes over the top of the fort walls. These arrows are much closer to your body, you lift your shield up over your head.

One bounces off the metal and the shield begins to purr.

There’s a sharp yelp to your right. You turn your head just in time to see one of your archers fall to the ground from atop the wall with an arrow in his chest. 

Hyunjin moves from your side and sprints towards one of the turrets.

“Hyunjin!” you yell after him. He turns and yells back.

“I can shoot my flames from above into their army. Stay alive, mercenary!” He doesn’t say anymore, he turns and runs into the stone leaving you with the six other foot soldiers on the ground.

Another barrage of arrows comes down and you duck under the shield. Three hit the steel. 

Things are happening so fast, you almost forgot how quickly everything happens during battle. It’s one thing after the next within 3 seconds of each other. 

There’s a loud clang to your left against the gate. It chills your bones. It’s immediately followed by more clanging and yelling.

It bangs over and over and over again. The bellows of angry soldiers overlap the hits.

Slowly, you turn and look directly into the eyes of hatred. So many sets of gleaming, evil eyes are pushed against the metal gates of Fort Mire, waiting to be let in. Waiting to tear the flesh from your bones.

These soldiers are uglier, meaner, nastier than any Erban soldier you’ve seen before. 

Their muscles are bigger, their swords sharper, and their hatred stronger. It’s been so long since you’ve seen a Mercy Division soldier.

The fear rips right through your body.

All of these soldiers have one purpose. And it’s to kill you.

And you can feel it in their glares. In the way their screams and words are slung at you.

Suddenly, you’re a small girl again, pulling your cloak over your ears as you run through the woods. You’re hiding from their lingering stares in the streets of Erbus’ capital.

Everything about their aura sends you back.

Your chin dips down as you stare back. You will not allow them to intimidate you more than they already do.

No matter how loud fear is screaming in the back of your mind, you will not let them get to you. Not anymore. 

The rest of your body turns and you face the gate completely. 

Other soldiers around you stand motionless as they also stare at their doom.

“Six protect us,” one of them whimpers under his breath.

Your hand tightens around your sword. You lift your shield up to protect yourself from another barrage of arrows. 

Four this time.

Mercy Division soldiers continue to pound at the gate with their weapons. Dust and tiny bits of debris fall from the stone surrounding the gate with each hit. All of a sudden, you have no faith in the fort’s construction. 

That gate is the only thing protecting you from death.

The archers continue to fire more arrows into the horde. Gods, you hope they’re hitting their marks. 

All around you the air takes a deep breath, The little heat that was in the December air is sucked away.

A loud swoosh sucks up the atmosphere and then there’s a loud roar of screams from the army outside the walls.

Your eyes flick up to the wall just in time to see Hyunjin dance around before launching a large ball of flames down into the enemy horde. The screams get even louder.

“ ELF! ” A soldier screams from outside the gate.

Your blood runs cold as you stare at Hyunjin. He doesn’t even flinch. His lithe body spins around, fingers moving in a dance just as elegant as his body while he draws heat and energy from the world around him.

The world inhales once more and another ball of flames begins to grow in his palm. His other hand comes in front of his body and produces a blue shimmery ward.

A barrage of arrows are shot at him and each arrow deflects off the ward. 

It’s like he has a giant target on his head now. 

He ducks, spins, and launches the fireball into the crowd. More screams and more arrows are fired at him.

“Ladders!” An archer screams from atop the wall.

Oh, shit .

Your feet take off before you can think further. Next thing you know, you’re sprinting into the same turret that Hyunjin entered previously. 

You’re leaping up three stairs at a time up the spiral structure.

The closer you get to the top, the louder the screaming gets.

By the time you run outside along the wall, Hyunjin hurls another fireball into the army. Your eyes follow it all the way down.

Down.

Down…

Down…

To the… hundreds of soldiers surrounding the Fort. 

It’s just … a sea of enemies. They’re everywhere.

Your knees wobble as the fear finally grips your heart. There’s just… so many .

Where’s the grass? You can’t even see the ground between them! They’re all screaming, banging their swords against their shields.

Ladders are being brought to the front of the army towards the wall.

You can see the three flaming craters in the ground from Hyunjin’s attacks. There’s sizable holes in the army where his attack landed. But it’s like taking one brick out of a wall. 

The front line of archers pull back their bowstrings and let them fly.

You bring your shield up just in time to deflect at least ten arrows off of them.

A loud clang comes from your right and you whip your head around to see the ladder resting against the wall. Any second now, a soldier will pop up and try to get to the gate’s lever. 

Once that gate is open, Miroh’s interior legion is done for.

You’re all too familiar with that battle plan. 

Swallowing your fear, you look down at your fellow foot soldiers on the ground.

“ Get your asses up here! ”

Without any further hesitation, your instincts push your body into the passenger seat and you spin around and bash your shield into the Erban soldier that was charging you after he got off the ladder. 

Because of the array of arrows that the shield took the hit of, when you bash the soldier, a loud pop sounds through the air and his body is thrown off the wall.

Behind you, you hear Hyunjin launch another fireball into the enemies below. 

You take two steps closer to where the ladder is leaning against the wall.

A soldier vaults over the stone wall and is immediately met with your sword coming upwards and slicing up under his chin. He doesn’t even have a moment to register what happened before his body is falling backwards off the wall.

Grabbing the wall with your one free hand, you turn and kick the ladder down backwards and down into the army. There’s a loud roar of screams as it comes down with several soldiers still climbing it.

Again, no time to watch. 

You see another ladder being placed against the wall ahead of you, much closer to Hyunjin. 

The mage is looking the other way, his elegant moves never pause once. He’s launching fireball after fireball down into the Mercy Division.

His cape billows around his soldiers. Embers swirl around him like fireflies. His eyebrows are fiercely furrowed in concentration. 

You’re running towards the ladder. 

One, two, three soldiers make it over the top by the time you make it over there.

Two of them turn their attention to you while the third focuses on an archer along the wall.

The first soldier raises his sword and brings it down to you, you raise your shield and block the blow– you feel the metal purr on your arm. 

Pushing his sword away with the shield, you swing your sword upwards at his head, he leans backwards to evade your swipe.

The second soldier swings his battleax at your body, you drop down to the ground underneath it. At the same time, your leg comes out and sweeps underneath the first soldier, knocking his own feet out from under him.

Your momentum spins you around more and you pop back up to block another hit from the battleax with your shield. More and more your shield vibrates. 

Bringing your boot up, you kick the second soldier in the chest, when he stumbles backwards, you shield bash him once more. The energy stored within the shield launching him off the wall. 

The first soldier is just about to get up when you swing your sword down and right across his neck. 

Blood spurts out of the open wound and sprays all over your freshly polished armor. 

Grimacing, you turn and see the archer had already taken care of the third soldier and managed to push the ladder off the wall at the same time. 

There’s a growl behind you.

You turn just in time to get hit right in the jaw with a strong right hook. It blurs your vision and rocks your entire world for a moment. 

Copper floods your mouth and you stumble back a step.

Shaking your head, you raise your shield out of instinct and weakly block another blow from a sword. It knocks you back a few steps.

When you regain your footing, you steel your hold on your shield to absorb several more blows as the soldier relentlessly swings at you.

Hit after hit after hit abuses your shield. 

They’re one after the other, the shockwave from the hit goes up your arms into your shoulders each time. 

You grit your teeth and push back to meet an attack and a deafening crack splits the air. 

The soldier lets out a blood curdling, gurgle-type scream and another gruesome spray of blood washes over your body not concealed by the shield. 

By The Six.

A strong ache blossoms through your jaw from his punch, your vision still feels a bit fuzzy from the blow. 

When you take the shield away from your vision, you see blood everywhere . The damage the shield had done to him was insurmountable. You feel your stomach flip when you see his arm had been ripped clean off. The rest of his corpse was bleeding out against the wall.

“Gods…” you murmur, swallowing the bile in your throat.

There was no time to dwell on that. 

More and more soldiers are climbing up the walls like insects. 

The archers are doing what they can to take them down, but it’s starting to become too much.

You turn and scan the wall.

Hyunjin catches your eye once more. He’s a whirlwind of heat and flames. The very air around him bends to his will as he hurls attack after attack into the enemy. 

There are ladders on either side of him. 

Immediately after he throws fire on one side, he spins around and launches one to the other. Back and forth, back and forth. One after the other. There’s no hesitation between any of his attacks. 

He’s already three steps ahead of the soldiers crawling up the walls.

But you can tell he’s becoming overwhelmed. 

Archers are so focused on the perimeter of the wall, they cannot turn their attention on him even for a moment. The foot soldiers are no longer down below in the fort, like you, they’ve come up to the top of the wall to protect it with everything they have.

The screams of battle are so loud and consistent, they’ve almost become white noise. 

Swords clash. Metal scrapes against metal. 

Curses are thrown as arrows are fired.

Begs for mercy and medical attention hit your ears– but they’re not voices you recognize.

Miroh’s interior legion was not going down without a fight. 

Another ladder comes up and sets into place on Hyunjin’s left.

You take off in his direction.

Other Erban soldiers try to get in your way but they’re quickly introduced to either your sword or your shield. Left and right you cut them down. Some fall to the stone under your feet, others fall from the top of the wall down to the dirt below.

One by one, four Erban soldiers come over the ladder to the left of Hyunjin, three on the right.

Your aching legs push faster, you completely bowl over two more soldiers off the wall. Their screeches barely even reach your ears. 

The closer you get to Hyunjin, the colder the air is around you– he’s taking all the heat from the world around him in order to hurl the flames down into the enemy.

You see his eyes flick over towards you when you’re about ten feet away.

The world moves in slow motion.

His sharp eyes move from you, to the enemies around him. Your boots hit the stone with heavy thuds.

Hyunjin spins and launches a fireball past your body, taking out the soldiers directly to your five o’clock. You feel the heat shoot past your head– it will be a miracle if none of your hair singed off in the crossfire.

You continue running as fast as your legs will allow.

He finishes his spin and bends over, making his back as flat as possible. 

Oh, you clever mage.

An enemy soldier raises his sword above his head directly next to Hyunjin, ready to bring it down onto the mage’s neck.

You shoot forward, your body using its momentum to spin and create even more force. 

Rolling to the side and raising your sword up at the same time, your entire body rolls over the back of Hyunjin's, your shoulder blades meeting for a split second.

Your body glides around and you roll over Hyunjin’s back.

With your sword gripped tightly in your hand, you bring it down to slash across the soldier before he could bring his own down on Hyunjin’s neck. 

As soon as your boots hit the stone once more, your body twists and you bash your shield into another soldier. The metal of his helmet clangs with the metal of the shield and he recoils.

Your arm comes back and you smack the shield forward at him again before he can recover, launching his body over the wall. 

Time resumes at its normal pace.

Behind you, you can feel Hyunjin’s body moving fluidly once more.

The two of you become a sight to see. 

If you go low to take out the legs of the soldier approaching you, Hyunjin goes high and attacks the one after him. You’re fighting back to back, taking on every single Erban soldier that makes it over the wall.

The lever to open the gate rests directly between your battling bodies. 

Anyone that gets close is immediately cut down. 

Both of you look like you’re in a well rehearsed dance with how well your attacks are timed out. You’re defending the lever that opens the gate as if your life depends on it.

Because it does .

Soldier after soldier meets your sword and shield, all of their bodies adding to a morbid pile on the ground below you. Arrows continue to whizz past your head and into any Erban soldiers you or Hyunjin cannot get to.

Over, under, up, down, slash, bash, jump, dodge, stab, left, right. Your two bodies look so graceful in their movements.

Just a pair of battle trained Elves ready to fight until their last breath.

Your vision is so locked into the battle; every muscle is moving on its own. The sword you wield is no longer just a weapon, it’s an extension of your own body. Blood covers your armor, painting a gruesome war painting all along the steel. 

The air around you is so cold, not only from the December air, but from Hyunjin drawing every single ounce of warmth from it in order to wield his blessed fire. 

Your eyes snap to the ladders just a few feet away from you. Soldier after soldier comes up, one after the other. Just a never ending stream of evil.

You need to knock those ladders over. No, you need to eliminate them completely.

How are you going to destroy those ladders? Even if you knock it down, they’ll just put it back up.

Slashing at another enemy soldier, his blood sprays all over your body before he falls to the ground in a heap. 

“Y/N!” Hyunjin yells. You whip around to him. “Shield!”

You raise the shield up in front of your body.

A whistle pierces your ears before you feel a fireball shatter upon impact when it hits you.

The metal on your arm vibrates. You grunt loudly with the impact. 

You smirk.

Just like old times, eh, Hyunjin? Camus is rolling over in his grave.

You spin around, gaining momentum, before you hurl the shield at the soldiers like a discus. 

“ WARD! ” Hyunjin screams. 

Shit.

The shield careens through the air and when it hits one of the soldiers at the top of the ladder, a loud explosion rings out.

Your hand comes up in front of you. 

A loud drumbeat sounds in your ears, it’s so loud, as if the sound was coming directly from within your chest. Every single drum pounds in a strong rhythm. 

That same shimmering magic pours out of your hands before the blast of the impact can affect you. You can vaguely feel the heat against your palm from the other side of your magical shield. 

Wooden pieces of the ladder fly out around you, some of the tinier pieces shooting through your ward and clinking against your armor. 

As soon as the initial blast dies down, you drop your ward and swing your sword around to behead an Erban soldier who was more preoccupied with the explosion than you. 

Then, with no warning, there’s a respite. 

You look around and see no Erban soldiers climbing over the wall on your side. 

Frantically, your eyes look around for your shield. It had to have gone somewhere close by. Where? Where did it go?

Hyunjin runs up behind you, you can feel his pants on the back of your neck. You turn around to look up at him.

His sharp, crimson eyes scan over every part of your face, then down your body, looking for any injuries. Ash and soot spots blotch his otherwise flawless skin.

“Are you hurt?” he pants.

“Nay, you?”

“Nay.”

“Good.”

You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. You’ve been fighting non-stop now for who knows how long. The roof of your mouth is so dry, your tongue sticks to it as you try to produce saliva.

Turning, you look over the wall and see Erban soldiers piling up against the wall below, most of them trying to get through the gate. Arrows are being fired up towards the two of you and flying past your head. 

A deep cough comes from your chest and you look around on the ground, still trying to find your shield.

Hyunjin grabs your upper arm and points downward towards the dirt within the walls of Fort Mire.

“Thank The Six,” you breathe out. The metal glints in the sunlight. 

Once more, your eyes lift and you look all along the wall. 

Your heart sinks.

Only three archers remain.

Only two foot soldiers are standing.

The walls of Fort Mire are littered with bodies. Some of them are still whining and begging for mercy or medical attention. But they’re all beyond help at this point.

Blood pools over the stone. The entire wall is painted a deep crimson from the sheer amount of gore splattered all along it.

Your armor is no better— you look like a corpse that rose from the dead. 

“Get the ladders to the front!” an Erban commander screams from down below.

More ladders.

When you wipe the sweat off your brow, you end up smearing blood across your face. It turns your stomach but you swallow the bile rising up. 

By the Six, how were you supposed to hold off any longer?

Your legion is a shell of its former self. How much longer until your body becomes one of the numerous lying dead at your feet? 

Hyunjin takes a deep breath behind you. “Here they come…” he whispers under his breath.

Your head whips around to look to the north. A sharp horn pierces the air in a long, low, deep blast. It rattles your very bones.

But not with fear, no. With hope . 

Hundreds of horses pour over the hills. 

The roar of Miroh’s soldier’s battle cries sound like one constant note at this point. It’s just a low, even hum that lifts your spirits.

Even with how far away he is, you can clearly make out Changbin leading the charge down the hill, his sword held tightly in one hand and his horse’s reins in the other. 

You feel your motivation coming back into your body. You just need to last.

Protect the gate. Protect the fort.

Survive.

[liminalpebble]

If you’re up for something fluffy and/or lighthearted fun - like a month ago I gave another writer I’m following this idea but she‘s been gone since then and I would still love it 🥺

I was in the mood for a Lokitty Fic because it’s been a while and for whatever reason I’min the mood:D If it’s gonna be more fluffy, funny or even angsty is up to you 🫶

Basic idea was Loki disguised as a cat 🐈‍⬛ has been hiding from something/someone in our home. Without him realizing until he’s already in too deep, he starts to fall for us and the way we care for him. Not part of his plan. He hadn’t intended to reveal his identity and surely couldn’t do it now after basically misleading us the whole time.

But what’s been escaping him since as well - we absolutely know. 🤭

A/N: Hey friend! Thanks for this very sweet and fluffy prompt. I accidentally seemed to have made it a multiparter and I have no idea where this is going except definitely to fluff town, and the comfort district. I guess stay tuned? WTF am I even doing??

Much love,

Peb

--

Stray: Part 1

Masterlist link

The rain was tumbling down in heavy sheets as you made your way from the train to your apartment. By now you'd just about memorized how many steps were left from the soaked platform to your door.

The thought depressed you a little, realizing how long you've felt stuck in this life; just another shop girl in the city, a uniform and an apron with a tired person behind it. As the cold water continued to hit you, you were glad to realize the number of steps to the lobby door was finally reaching single digits and picked up your pace in one last jolt of momentum.

Then you heard it; an almost imperceptible mewling under the incessant drumming of the storm. You turned, following the faint noise until you reached the alley and the giant dumpsters housed there. The stench was awful. You held your soaked apron over your nose as you peaked into the crevice. Two of the biggest, most beautiful, aquamarine eyes stared back at you from a void of soaked black fur. It was a cat, and it was absolutely screaming now, realizing it had someone's attention.

It's not like you'd never seen an alley cat before. There were swarms of them around, but there was just something about this one, something so desperately in need of love. The little guy seemed almost confused to be in this position whereas the other strays seemed to resign themselves to their shitty fate.

You braced yourself; tried to talk yourself out of what you knew you were about to do and had never ever done before. It would be incredibly stupid. You weren't even allowed to have pets. You didn't even know if he was sick and you would never have the money to take him to the vet. Regardless, you sighed and scooped the pathetic little creature up, swaddling him in your apron, as you hurried toward the front door. Huffing, you warned him, “Okay buddy, but I swear to god, you better not have rabies.”

-----

Loki was glad to finally be out of the rain and stench, even if it was in a less than ideal form. Several hours earlier he had landed with a crash, cushioned by the heaps of debris. He scoffed realizing his neat black suit and tie and the crisp white shirt were now utterly ruined. His sunglasses were nowhere to be found. The money; all that money that came with him as he dove out of the plane was now safely magicked away, at least.

He groaned pitifully. A fall like that coupled with a mid-air tussle with Thor was enough to floor the younger god, though he hated to admit it. And who was Thor to come after him anyway? This whole D.B. Cooper heist was his fault...all because of that idiotic bet. Loki probably would have laid there feeling very sorry for himself a good deal longer, but he heard the lonely patter of someone running toward him through the downpour. He had to admit he needed help, and it was time for some quick scheming to get it. Good thing this was always his forte.

He had barely accustomed himself to his new feline form and begun mewling loudly when he heard your footfalls slow and watched your shadow move down the alley.

Come on. He thought, imbuing it with the hint of an enchantment. Come find me, mortal.

Loki was incredibly pleased with himself and, frankly, a bit surprised that his ploy worked so easily. Such dull creatures, mortals...such soft hearts., he mused as he dozed in your arms. He was already barely conscious when he heard you quip, “Okay buddy, but I swear to god, you better not have rabies.”

Hey! Rude, he thought, attempting to give a menacing, insulted glare, but it only came out as a grimacing twitch of his whiskers and whining, grumpy, growl.

The human smiled a reluctant little grin and tussled his fur saying, “It's a good thing you're adorable.”

I'm not adorable! I am a god, you dull creature! , he screamed in his mind, but it only left his mouth as another pathetically cute whine.

---

In your bathroom you clipped your wet hair up one-handed and kept the little creature bundled against your chest. Once your hand was free you tested temperature of the bath with a wiggle of your fingers.

Satisfied, you said, “Alright friend,” holding the cat under his armpits and meeting his eyes, as if you could appeal to his sense of logic. “You stink. I have to give you a bath. You can either except your fate with dignity or you can be a little shit and claw my eyes out. I beg you to accept your fate.”

He thought to himself, Why wouldn't I want a bath? I love baths, you idiot. Now clean me, mortal. I tire of....

“Mrewwoooow!” he screamed as soon as his paw hit the warm water. He surprised you and himself as you both flinched violently. Apparently Loki was unable to resist his new feline aversion to water. Okay...okay...this is new. He mused.

“Okay....Christ! Listen here, you little shit! You can either deal with this while I scrub you down with some Herbal Essences, or you can smell like dumpster juice.”

“Meow”

“Yeah. I know...I know it's not the right thing for cats. I know I should take you to the vet first. I know this is not fucking ideal. I'm...I'm doing my best,” you said, with an unexpected hitch in your throat and slightly-welling eyes, as suddenly you both realized you weren't just talking about the bath anymore.

Loki felt an emotion he couldn't quite categorize; one he seldom felt, one others might call sympathy. So he fought his instinct with all his might and remained quiet and while you carefully washed and rinsed his fur. You smiled as your careful hands cleaned every last patch. “Thank you,” you said softly.

My pleasure, he thought, and meant it. It actually did feel very nice to be clean, and if felt even better when you dried him, and wrapped him in a warm towel in front of the space heater, with one bowl of water, and one of tuna. By the time you had showered and settled next to him on the floor in your pajamas, he already had a full belly and was drifting off again in the pleasant warmth. You sipped your tea and stroked his now very glossy and soft black fur.

“See! You're such a handsome boy now that you don't look and smell like wet trash bag. That wasn't so bad, was it?”

From where his head rested on his delicately crossed paws he lazily opened one stunning eye to glare at you menacingly, but it only made you chuckle.

As you laughed and smiled down at him, stroking his fur, he felt something else he couldn't quite name; gratitude, certainly, but also something else...something like wanting desperately to see you smile as much as possible...something like hoping that sorrow he saw a glimpse of before wouldn't eat you alive...something like just wanting you to be okay regardless of the benefit to himself.

The next time he half-awoke in the night, you were gone and the lights were out, though you had left the space-heater on for him. With his now-amplified hearing, he listened for you, anxious to know you were still there. Only once he heard the gentle undulation of your sleeping breath could he relax into dreams again and wonder what tomorrow would bring.

@mischief2sarawr @ladyofthestayingpower @acidcasualties @unlucky-number-13 @goblingirlsarah @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokihiddleston @lokischambermaid @lokisgoodgirl @marcotheflychair @smolvenger @alexakeyloveloki @littlespaceyelf @loopsisloops @joyful-enchantress @eleniblue @loz-3 @the-haven-of-fiction @sweetsigyn @muddyorbs @icytrickster17 @holdmytesseract @thenerdyoldersister @thedistractedagglomeration @sailorholly @peachyjinx @coldnique @sarahscribbles @peaches1958 @infinitystoner @mischiefmaker615 @coldnique @jennyggggrrr @tripleyeeet @itsybitchylittlewitchy @mochie85

[serial-killers-hope]

Could you do a thing for ronin with a partner that’s transmasc but dresses really fem and feels really insecure and like they aren’t an actual guy because of how they present?

(totally not projecting shhhhhhh)

Ah, well. I’ve been planning this for quite awhile actually… well, I suppose you wouldn’t mind some of my work again. ~ DP

CW / TW :

- Gender Dysphoria

- Running / Intrusive Thoughts

- Anxiety

SPOILERS FOR KILLER CHAT

Enjoy.

Petticoats and Blood.

You stared at the coord you had made yourself for the next day. The mannequin sported your petticoat and purse for the next day. Dressing pretty and very nice was your forte after all. Even if it did garner unwanted criticism from so-called “normal” people. It made you happy to dress in frilly skirts, ruffled blouses, cute bonnets. The works for your average sweet style that everyone either loved or criticized ( for whatever reason… )and it made you question whatever was going on through their minds as well.

You hesitate for a second, hanging up the dress and putting away the jewelry for the night. Until your phone pings with a notification and ultimately throws off your insecure thoughts for the moment.

You pick up the phone, eyes narrowed as you stared at the text that the man you who had fallen for ( which you questioned why Ronin had put his name as “ Thy Divine Devil “ ) spammed your phone.

goreboy : darlin’

goreboy : come On. im bored and I want to see Your Pretty mug :)

You frown a bit, the word pretty sticking out like a sore thumb. In all honesty, you never bothered to correct him so how would he even know? All he knew was your identity change and your identity struggles. He’d help with the process, buying you your binder was a plus you didn’t know you needed and a man who knew how to inject testosterone to satisfy your euphoric needs?

Double whammy.

Ronin kept spamming, your frown evident as you shot him a text with a exasperated sigh.

[ User ] : What’s up? :)

You watched as his username popped up and slowly typed. Your impatience grew as you planted yourself down onto your bed with a quiet tap of your foot. Nose scrunched as your dysphoria feuded with your mentality. Hands gripping your phone as his message came through.

goreboy : can’t I just try to See You?

goreboy : But nahhhh, i’ll keep you updated when I see You :)

goreboy : i love you darlin’. keep Your Head up.

Your heart clenched as your throat tightened with a gentle tug of your vocal cords. Your voice didn’t even want to leave as you opened your mouth to say something into the random void of your goddamn room.

“Damn…”

You muster up the word, immediately jumping up to get dressed into some random clothes you had strewn about. Eyes alert and teary as you shrugged on some hoodie that Ronin had gave you some time ago. It’s material plush and gentle on the body. Black in color with a skull on its front.

It honestly screamed Ronin.

Your hand traced the pattern, sighing as you slipped on your shoes and grabbed your keys.

You usually dressed up, even for something simple as this ( meeting Ronin at his usual alleyway ) and even doing a minimal amount of makeup. But you shrugged off the heavy feeling, the dysphoria practically screaming as you got into the car that Ronin had fixed a few months prior to your ‘accidental’ meeting.

You parked a few blocks away from the spot, scrambling out and locking the car before jogging to the alleyway. Your eyes darted around slightly as you made your way down the pathway. Eyes drifting to a specific brick wall that the two of you had met at.

“… huh?”

Ronin slumped against the wall, grinning as he noticed your steps.

“Hey darlin’… how are-“

He cuts himself off, his eyes drifting over your body with a furrowed brow and a small frown which was immediately replaced with a smile.

“Lazy day?”

“You can say that.”

Ronin obviously wasn’t satisfied with the answer, arms crossing as he approached and looked you dead in the eye. Noticing the redness, the puffy texture around them, and the fake smile you usually pulled on bad dysphoria days with a subtle grunt.

“What’s wrong?”

You shift a bit, rocking on the heels of your feet as you shrugged slightly and looked away. Your brows furrowed a bit as he leaned to meet your facial level.

“Nothing… just a bad dysphoria day.”

Immediately, he scowled. His arms suddenly wrapping around you in a comforting hug as he whispered nothing but affirmations to you. It made all the pent up emotions in your body spill out onto the floor. Soft sobs and quiet chokes escaping as you reciprocated the hug and sobbed into his chest.

“I’m not normal, why can’t I be normal…”

Ronin sighs, pressing a gentle kiss against the top of your head. His warmth, inviting and comforting as he whispered into your ear.

“Were we ever normal?”

[the-whatcherof-89]

Xisumavoid Aka Ih-Soo-Mah Shaahwambam

CR 20 C XP 307,200 (if used as npc for encounter)Aasimar(Angelkin) Bloodrager12(Celestial Bloodline) Draconic Disciple(Void)8 NG Medium humanoid (Aasimar) Init +3; Senses darkvision 60 ft., low-light vision, Perception +36 AC 40 (+3 Dex, +5 deflection, +10 natural, +11 armor, +1 Intuition) Touch 19 Flat-footed 37 HP 210 (20d12+120) Fort +24, Ref +15, Will +24 Speed 30 ft

Melee Adamantine keen brilliant energy falchion+34 2D4+16 Critical 17-20x2, Spells. Ranged Returning javelins+22 1D6+12, Spells

Racial Celestial resistances 5(Acid, Cold, Electric), Darkvision 60ft, +2 on Knowledge Planes and Heal. Traits: Ear for music, Foul brand.

Class features Greater blood rage (+4 Str Con +2 Will saves), Blood sanctuary, Bloodcasting, Improved uncanny dodge, Damage reduction 2/-, Fast movement, Eschew materials, Dragon bite 1D6 Piercing+1D6 cold, Blood of dragons, Natural armor increase +5, Ability boot(STR+4 CON+2 INT+2), Breath weapon 3/day(Con of cold 30ft 8D6 DC23), Blindsense 30ft, Dragon form 1/day.

Bloodline powers Bonus feats (Dodge, Improved initiative, Iron will, Cleave, Blind fight, Power attack) Bonus spells: Bless, Resist energy.

Spellcasting CL 18th, DC19

4th (4/day)-dragon’s breath, telekinetic charge, stoneskin, monstrous physique II, Ghost wolf.

3rd (4/day)-haste, heroism, draconic reservoir, Force punch, chain of perdition, resinous skin.

2nd (5/day)-mirror image, molten orb, see invisibility, glitterdust, blood armor, ablative barrier. 1st (7/day)-jump, mount, shield, thunder stomp, magic missile, burning hands.

Str 32, Dex 16, Con 24, Int 12, Wis 16, Cha 28

Base Atk +18; CMB +28; CMD 32

Feats Strong personality, Craft wondrous magic items, Improved sunder, Spell penetration, Greater spell penetration, Improved critical, Weapon focus(Falchion), Raging vitality, Angelic blood, Quicken spell-like ability(Dragon form).

Skills Acrobatics+12, Climb+15, Craft(Stone and metal)+24, Escape artist+13, Diplomacy+13, Fly+11, Intimidate +13, Knowledge (Arcana)+10, (Geography)+24 (The planes)+10 (Nature)+5, Perception +26, Perform(Cord)+13, Profession(Composer)+11, Spellcraft +20, Survival +11, Swim +15.

Languages Common, Celestial, Draconic.

Combat gear Mithral spell storing banded mail of greater cold resistance+4, Ring of protection+5, Amulet of natural armor+5, Ioun stones(Deep red sphere, Dusty rose prism), Adamantine keen brilliant energy falchion+5, 2 Returning javelins+1, Belt of physical might+6(STR, CON), Cloak of resistance+5, Headband of mental Prowess+6(WIS CHA Geography), Sandals of quick reaction, Bag of holding type I, Potions:(4) Cure serious wounds (4)Haste, Wands(Blink, Enlarge person), Tome of leadership and influence+2(Used), Manual of bodily health+2, Manual of gainful exercise+5(used), Masterwork guitar, Bloodrager kit, 508GP.

Xisumaviod Aka Ik-soo-mah the Ender caller.

CR 20 XP 307,200 (if used as npc for encounter)Aasimar(Ember-kin, Fallen one) Oracle(Void)20

CE Medium humanoid Init +5; Senses Perception +38

AC 33, touch 17, flat-footed 32 (+1Dex, +5Deflection, +5 natural, +11armor, +1intuition) HP 141 (20d8+48)

Fort +17, Ref +12, Will +28

Speed 30 ft. Melee Adamantine keen brilliant energy scythe+26 1D10+11. Ranged Distance light crossbow+18 1d8+2 +1D8 Cold.

Racial Celestial resistances 5(Acid, Cold, Fire), Darkvision 60ft, +2 on Knowledge Planes and Spellcraft, Lost promise. Traits: Ear for music, Foul brand.

Class features Curse: Tongues, Mystery: Void, Revelations: Absence of body, DR15/force, Armor fo the void 20 hours/day, Body of the void 20 minutes/day, Commune with the void, Creature of the void, Summon the void, Stare into the abyss,Touch of the void, Visions of the void, Wisdom of the void), Final revelation, Bonus spells: Chill heart, Darkness, Ray of exhaustion, Curse of magic negation, Passwall, Gateway, Banishment, Maze, Overwhelming presence.

Spellcasting CL20 DC21 Spells per day 9/9/9/8/8/8/8/7/7 Spells known: 9-Miracle, Portal, Implosion. 8-Earthquake, Cloak of chaos, Greater planar ally. 7-Scrying(greater), Resurrection, Blasphemy.

6-Word of recall, Heal, Blade barrier. 5-Planar shift, Break enchantment, Flame strike, True seeing. 4-Summon master IV, Freedom of movement, Divine power, Inflict critical wounds. 3-Water breathing, Cure serious wounds, Protection from energy, Dispel magic. 2-Restoration(lesser), Cure moderate wounds, Find traps, Sonic blast, Hold person.

1-Cure light wounds, Shield of faith, Bless water, Sanctuary, Divine favor. 0-Detect magic, Create water, Read magic, Purify food and drink, Mending, Light, Detect poison, Virtue, Guidance.

Str 22, Dex 12, Con 22, Int 12, Wis 20, Cha 32

Base Atk +15; CMB +21; CMD +22

Feats Craft wondrous items, Improved initiative, Divine interference, Extra revelations(4), Weapon proficiency(Scythe), Strong personality, Quicken metamagic.

Skills Craft(Stone and metal)+24, Intimidate +13, Heal+10, Knowledge (Arcana)+24, (History)+5 (The planes)+24 (Religion)+5, Disable device+24, Perception +28, Perform(Cord)+15, Profession(Composer)+10, Sense motive+10, Spellcraft +20, Survival +11, Swim +15, Use magic device +24.

Languages Common, Celestial, Abyssal, Draconic, Aklo.

Combat gear Mithral spell storing banded mail of greater electric resistance+4, Ring of protection+5, Amulet of natural armor+5, Ioun stones(Deep red sphere, Dusty rose prism), Adamantine keen brilliant energy scythe+5, Distance light crossbow+1, 50+1 Frost bolts, Belt of physical might+6(STR, CON), Cloak of resistance+5, Headband of mental Prowess+6(WIS CHA Planes), Slippers of cloudwalking, Glyphbane gloves, Bag of holding type I, Potions:(4) Cure serious wounds (4)Gaseous form, Tome of leadership and influence+2(Used), Manual of bodily health+2, Manual of gainful exercise+5(used), Scrolls(Cloak of chaos, Reverse gravity, Orb of  the void, Blood mist), Masterwork guitar, Oracle kit, 87GP. 

Background: Xisuma lives in a faraway land famous for the various buildings that defies possibility and his hermits that build them. While it is true that he is one of them, Xisuma is not only a music composer but also an admin/steward figure of the place, ensuring both the stability and functioning logistics of the land between the various hermits. Xisuma however, has a secret: for some reason he has a connection with the Void hence, his full name Xisumavoid. Although people do not bring up his full name often, Xisuma always feels the strange call and stares at the vast sky of the Overworld or the endless depth of the End. While there was no exchange of words, he always felt something or someone calling for him, pulling, inching forward from the dark depths but he could never reply or understand, until one day he was overseeing the land from a vantage point and saw some kind of light on the horizon engulfing the world. The land was disappearing. Xisuma panicked for a moment, but then he heard a call: “My chosen. To stop this advent embrace me. I shall give you the power to save the land. Look upon me.” Xisuma looked around but saw no one, until he looked up and saw IT. His two eyes reflected his being into two and cast the now divided Xisuma in two beings in another land. Separated, the two heard again the voice: “Upon you i now bestow my powers and a prophecy:”

Swift as the wind the ground rumbles

Burn the bubble when they stumbles

With blazing storms forward they dash

Cold hearts engraved in ash

One light and secrets will be hushed

Four shadows always clashed

Ring the bell falls the hammer

Sparks dance under the burnt banner

Clad in white we slowly fade

For in twilight’s hour we were remade

“When the prophecy is resolved, come find me. And you will return to your land untainted.” The two Xisuma were separated, one in the Overworld, the other in the End but they both knew what had to be done and no one would stand in their way.

(Image made with Heroforge.)

[two-white-butterflies]

coaxed you into paradise - c. 15

Description: The life of Saera Targaryen told in four acts. She was her father's forgotten daughter, cast aside as she looked nothing like her mother. Her younger days were spent beside her uncle. Years following her marriage with Ser Harwin Strong, she catches him in an affair with her older sister. She returns to seek solace in the arms of her uncle, that she's loved all her life.

(Coaxed You Into Paradise and High Infidelity Rewrite.)

masterlist for this series

Chapter Fifteen: Children of Valyria

When the news of Rhaenyra’s labor reached the ears of the Strongs, they both bolted out of their rooms for different reasons. Saera loved her sister - and couldn’t bear the thought of her alone in the birthing bed, while Harwin was excited to meet his child. They halted in front of the Princess’ chambers - freezing at the sound of her screams. 

“Is she alright?” Saera asks, while settling on the bench outside of the door. “Yes,” Alicent replies - sitting beside her daughter. 

Harwin Strong was pale - nervous for the safety of his beloved. “She’ll be fine,” Laenor touches the man’s shoulder before bolting inside the room. He was the father, but they didn’t know that. 

“How long has she been in labor?” the Princess inquires, watching the Queen peel the skin back at her fingers. “Ten hours, she started at dawn.” the woman confirmed, trying not to show her fear. Rhaenyra and Alicent were no longer friends - but the affection was still there. 

“Gods,” Harwin mumbled, finding his place beside his wife. 

—

Saera bites back a gasp, exchanging confused glances with Queen Alicent. “He is a handsome young boy.” Viserys smiles, holding his grandson with tenderness and love. Even a blind man could see that the child wasn’t a Velaryon. Prince Jacaerys had brown hair and brown eyes - Saera has spent two-years with Harwin to know that the babe had his nose and his smile. 

Harwin grins from behind his wife, both at them staring at the Prince’s face. He was adorable and charming - Saera couldn’t find herself hating him. “He is delightful,” she cooed, smiling at the sight of the little boy. 

“Thank you,” Rhaenyra breathed a sigh of relief, exchanging a knowing stare with her lover. “Would you like to hold him?” she offers, but it comes across as teasing. 

Saera’s lips settled into a thin line. 

It wasn’t an insult but it sounded like an insult. 

“No thank you,” she declined, gathering her gown and excusing herself from the room.

—

Harwin enters Saera’s separate chamber, he could sense that there was something wrong. His heart jumped out of his chest at the sight of her, arms crossed and with a frown. He was in trouble. 

“Good morrow,” she greeted, slowly filling her cup with wine. He had the broad shoulders of the Andals, and he was the perfect husband for Viserys’ second daughter - but she did not need his protection. Matter of fact, he should protect himself from her. 

Rhaenyra was fire and avarice, but her sister was calm as spring. It unnerved him - as he could do anything but it would never anger her. At least not in the way that Rhaenyra would be angered.

“It’s a shame that my nephew inherited his grandmother’s Baratheon blood,” she hummed, looking at his face and seeing it drop with every word that escaped her tongue. “ - his face is void of Valyrian blood.” she added. 

“He is still a dragon,” he defended and she raised an eyebrow. “Of course,” she looked at the side, taking a sip of her wine. 

Saera figures that it was the alcohol that had her speaking of things that she couldn’t understand. She takes another sip, sitting on top of her vanity. “I’ve heard rumors,” she began - already regretting her capriciousness. 

“Rumors about?” he acted clueless, but that seemed to feed more into her desire for the truth. “Her son looks like you,” she pipes - leaving out the fact that she had concrete evidence of his betrayal. 

She glances up from her cup to his face. 

If he were to admit the affair - then she’d bring forth an agreement. She could have Daemon and he could have Rhaenyra. 

“They are efforts to besmirch the crown’s reputation. Do not believe them, my wife.” he shuts her down, the grip on her goblet tightened - she bites the insides of her cheeks. She knew in that very moment - all of her trust diminished with her husband - even the mere possibility of friendship was impossible. That he would lie to get what he wanted. 

“I won't be mad,” she gives him a chance to redeem himself, but he begins walking in her direction - wrapping her around his arms. “You are the only woman that I love.” he pressed a reluctant kiss on the top of her head. “ - that is a promise.” he vowed - sealing his fate. 

—

Daemon and Saera impatiently walk inside the Maester’s chambers. He was never a big fan of Maesters, they were stupid and incompetent. He’d rather fly to Essos and Pentos to get a proper diagnosis. He places a protective arm around her shoulder - twisting the doorknob without knocking. He’d have more decorum if the Maester wasn’t the one that killed his sister, Aemma. 

“Prince Daemon,” the man stands up and he points at his niece. “Princess Saera,” the man bows, walking to help them. “I think I’m with a child.” she announces bluntly, and the man nods. 

Daemon points at a chair and she sits on it. 

The Maester hands her a small bowl, “You must pee in it.” the man reports, and she pales slightly. “Do I have to?” she stares up at her uncle.“How will we know, my princess?” The Maester replies, returning to his paperwork. 

Daemon turns to glare at the man, “Do not be curt with the Princess.” he gritted his teeth, eyes softening once his gaze returns to Saera. “Kessa, iksan zūgagon sīr. (Yes, I’m afraid so.)” he hums, combing through her hair. 

“Skorkydoso kessa gaoman bona? Kessa ao ūndegon ziry? (How will I do that? Will you catch it?)” she joked while rising to her feet. She was happy at the thought of having a child, but the process to know if she was going to - was quite embarrassing. 

“Disgusting,” he chuckled. 

Saera turned to look at the Maester. “We’ll be back in an hour,” she announces, walking out of the door. “Īlē jāre naejot emagon nyke ūndegon ziry? (You were going to have me catch it)” a faint whisper of Daemon’s voice echoed through the halls as they exited the room. 

“Bona iksin iā joke, uēpa vala. (That was a joke, old man.)” she huffed, running to the direction of her room.

“Careful, konir sagon ñuha riña iemnȳ hen ao. (that’s my child inside of you.)” he warned with a cheeky smirk, knowing that none around him were capable of listening in to their conversation.

—

Saera holds her breath, staring at the bowl and watching the Maester inspect her pee. The man raises his glass, a small formal smile on his lips. “You are with a child, princess - I extend my congratulations to you and Lord Strong.” he announces, and her grip on Daemon’s hand tightens. 

“Thank the seven,” she breathes - a smile spreading onto her lips. 

next chapter>>

taglist. @sweetybuzz25 @newtsniffles @loveandlewis-reads @lovecleastrange @julkaamazing @schniiipsel @mirandastuckinthe80s @areaderinlove @i-yam-awesome @ladystardvsts @gracielikegrapes @sweethoneyblossom1 @issybee0611 @tato0od @daemonskelitsos @delaynew @thisbihreadstoomuch @plutoscosmos

(comment to be tagged)

[themadlu]

A Star's Purpose

Part of the Spelljammer challenge by @spacebarbarianweird!

Astarion is happy, truly happy, in the safety of his lover's affection. The troubles of the Underdark have no sway on his mood as he relishes simply existing with his Zélie.

Until a call for help takes them to the depths of the Astral Sea on a Spelljammer vessel, and he'll be damned if he lets his maddening hero face the dangers of interplanar space on her own.

TW: None, I think. Maybe a smidge of self-worth issues? And end-of-game spoilers.

Not beta read and minimal editing, sorry for any mistakes!

This is mostly non-canon to Zélie and Astarion's story (I think).

@amywritesthings, in case you wanna check it out!

A year and a half has passed since the Netherbrain’s defeat. Zélie stayed in Faerun with Astarion, who’s now confined in the shadows due to his vampiric nature. They have settled in the Underdark, after concluding it was their duty to guide the 7,000 spawns towards a semi-functional society and a second chance at life. The lovers live in the magic tower near the sussur tree and have made it their own haven. A home, Zélie would say, but she is home to Astarion, and where they are matters not. 

He just wants to keep falling into reverie with her warm body tangled in his, keeping his demons at bay, and welcome the day with her wild, owlbear-esque hair all over his face. To live in the comfort of each other’s embrace, as nauseatingly cliche as it sounds. Not that she would allow it on most days, his precious, maddening woman. They have responsibilities, she says. Obligations. To the hells with them, he thinks, as he walks with her towards whatever bothersome issue they need to attend to next.  

So what happens when a message comes from a dear friend asking for their assistance in the cold void of the Outer Planes? Astarion knows. His steadfast hero will do what heroes are expected to do: run to the rescue, even if she’d rather not risk their lives again so soon after…well, everything. “You don’t have to come, Astarion, really. Actually, I think it more appropriate for you to stay here, now that we are making progress with your siblings.” As if. Aurelia and Leon can make themselves useful for once and hold the fort on their own. The pale elf is no hero and never will be, but his heart beats in her chest and her soul is his own, so he’d be damned if he doesn’t follow her into this new, gigantic mess. She (“We, Astarion”) already slayed a Netherbrain; what’s a lich queen in comparison. 

______________________________________________________________

Well, that’s impressive.

Astarion examines the raiding ship that Lae’zel somehow managed to secure. The very thing that is going to sail them into the cold, deep astral sea. The technology is clearly Illithid—since he woke up inside that fleshy pod, he’s become familiar enough with their tentacled technology to recognise it when he sees it. But the Githianki’s influence is evident: the large, fan-shaped sails stand proud against the moonlit sky like a dragon’s wings, ready to take their riders towards their next conquest. The front of the ship has what he can only describe as teeth; fanged protrusions, not unlike his own, ready to swallow whole whatever unfortunate creatures they’ll meet. A silent but unavoidable promise of war echoes off the vessel. It makes Astarion antsy. 

He has no issue with violence–he still revels in it at times, the need to own, to consume and not be consumed, so typical of his kind, exasperated by the horrors he suffered. But his bouts of spite and aggression have been fading since her. 

He turns to look at Zélie only to find her staring at the ship with eyes so wide they mirror the moon perfectly. Her mouth is the slightest bit agape in wonder, the closer her stern face can get to a surprised expression. Perfect thing. Gods, over a year together (A year, five tendays and eight days.), barely leaving each other’s side even in dreams, and his little hero still leaves him speechless with the smallest quirk.

(The way she smiles at him when she thinks he isn’t looking makes him want to scream, weep, beg her for forgiveness—for all he has to his name is a used body—and ravage her for days. At the same time.)

You’re a gift, my love. Let me keep you. 

Astarion isn’t worthy of her devotion and mercy, no angry huffs and puffs from her will convince him fully, but gods below he wants to be. He’ll do anything, become anything to keep her safe, happy, looking at him as if he were some miracle of the heavens. 

(Do it. I dare you, he thinks to the silent gods, Try to take her from me. See what happens next.)

“Seen something you like, darling?” He jests in an airy tone, both because he likes to prattle and because her attention scalds him kindly, completely, like the sun never could. Insufferable woman, making him feel so alive. 

Zélie flips her head towards him, frizzy curls bouncing wildly. “Oh Astarion, this ship! I know we’ve been on a mindflayer vessel before, but this is incredible!” She takes his hand in hers and he burns in the best way possible. 

Precious thing, so enamoured by technology, human or otherwise. He pulls her into his arms so he can feel whole one last time before he has to share her with their friends. Astarion kisses her softly, a grin on his lips at her inexorable embarrassment. She is not one for public displays of affection—most of the time.

(Part of the reason he prefers it when it’s just the two of them, so he can worship her properly in the temple of their home.) 

Fuck. 

He is getting hard just thinking about it. He needs to distract himself or else he’ll end up with a wet patch on his trousers that Lae’zel will ridicule until the end of days. 

Jealous prick. Green suits her.

The pale elf grips Zélie tighter, his familiar hardness pressing into her stomach, and her already wide eyes become impossibly larger, paler. (He so wishes he had a reflection in times like these.) 

“I stand by my point, my sweet. Size does matter, it seems.” Astarion winks at her and the woman’s flustered expression turns unamused. Oh, he so adores riling her up, his fierce hero. 

It seems he has underestimated the effect he’s had on her since they met—he can’t believe it’s almost as deep as the one she had on him—because suddenly she presses into him, burying a hand into one of her coat’s pockets so she can grab his length without being seen. Astarion hisses under his breath with poorly concealed pleasure. It’s his eyes that widen and darken now.

“You, cheeky, little pup,” he murmurs, rattles, heat spreading through him so that he would surely combust if he weren’t a cold corpse. 

“Mhm. I guess you do have a point, my dear,” Zélie says, face still unamused as she looks at him and gives him a gentle squeeze to emphasise her statement. 

(It takes all of his self-control not to buck his hips into her hand.)

“Although size doesn’t mean quality. Both are necessary. What good would such a huge ship do to us if it couldn’t sail properly, don’t you think?” She whispers the last few words in his sensitive ear and Astarion almost whines, the desire pooling in his underwear threatening to stain the fabric.

 If it were anyone else touching him like she does, Astarion would rip their throat and limbs out or die in the attempt. But it’s his Zélie and, gods and hells, he wants her, this, all of it, desperately. Her hands are so gentle to him, always, as if he would break should she press a little harder. He thought it was her relative inexperience at first, or worse, pity. The idea that she could be so tender with someone like him purely because she wanted to was unfathomable; now, he has no interest in living without it.

Only she can come to him unannounced. She can do anything she wants with him. 

(He trusts her more than he trusts himself.)

“T’chaki, you two never cease to be revolting,” a cutting voice calls out from behind them. Ah, right. Lae’zel is here. And a few dozen other Gith warriors loyal to Orpheus, all looking equally disgusted. 

Astarion scowls at them while his love-addled brain quickly sobers up at their most untimely appearance (Thank you very much, Lae’zel.) 

Only then, he notices the strangeness of his predicament: it’s his usually stony Zélie who’s all but moulding their bodies into one, it’s her smaller frame in his arms and her fingers caressing his still-hard length. 

Oh? You’re more worried about this journey than you let on, aren’t you, darling?

He recognises the signs from their last life-threatening adventure, her need to have him close to her so she could keep him safe. Impossible thing, always shielding him so fiercely, he is starting to consider his centuries of captivity as a due price for having her to himself. 

(A mortal human protecting a vampire should be laughable, but she saved him in every possible way already.)

Astarion snarls in warning at the burdensome company that ruined what could be the last moment of private intimacy with his person in a long while. “With all due respect, Lae’zel dear, go fuck off for a bit, would you?” 

Lae’zel’s warriors look just about ready to use him as a practice target (They can try.) when the woman in his embrace clears her throat, “It’s all right, Lae’zel. We’re revising last-minute arrangements for the journey. We’ll board in a moment, thank you.” 

The Gith does not look happy, but she and Zélie share a close friendship (And a stick up both their backsides, Astarion used to think.), so she listens to her and heads to the ship with her crew, cursing some pretty mild threats. Small mercies. 

“Oh,” Finally alone, Zélie realises she is still gripping Astarion’s length, colour draining from her face in mortification. “I’m so sorry Astarion, I got carried away,” she tries to move her hand away but he grabs her wrist, keeping her in place. 

“You don’t have to apologise, love. I know I’m simply irresistible!” His attempt to lighten her mood is met with a sceptic glance. Silly, precious thing, always caring for his well-being. Let me help you. “Truthfully, my sweet,” his next words are the truest ones he’s ever uttered, “you know I’m yours.” 

Zélie raises an eyebrow, “you are your own person, Astarion. We went through this, multiple times in fact.” 

He laughs, “To you, with you, darling, it doesn’t matter. As you can clearly see,” he squeezes her hand around his dripping cock.

His stubborn woman studies him carefully, searching for any of his masks and finding none. “Very well,” she concedes. She turns to her left as noises filter from the ship. “Last chance, Astarion. If you want to remain in the Underdark, you must tell me now. Lord knows how long this expedition will last, and I reckon your siblings would benefit greatly from you being there to—”

That’s what it is, then. She worries for him still; and it still unravels him. 

Let me care for you, idiot.  

“Hush, you,” Astarion places a finger on her lips to shush her, “I am where I belong.” 

(Something inside him tears at the thought of being separated from Zélie. Of her alone in the face of danger.)   

His hero’s stance softens, finally relaxed. Her relief makes her look so much younger. “Oh, well, in that case,” she leans into him and kisses him. Truly, fearlessly, savouring all of him. Astarion barely suppresses a noise of surprise before responding in kind, fangs grazing her lips, never hurting her (Never.), devouring her. 

Zélie quietly moans into him. Astounding, how she is still pleasured by such a simple act when they have been entangled into way more complex scenarios during the last year. (As if he were not close to coming already.) If the Gith are watching, he’ll gauge their eyes out.

A tremble of the earth signals that the ship is ready for departure. Zélie detaches from him and this time he does whine at her loss. She gives one last gentle squeeze to his length, making him narrow his eyes at her. The cool night air flows between them.

“The moment we are alone, I will bury myself into your perfect little body so deeply they will have to pry me from you, love.” 

(There’s no holier sight than her tender ecstasy as she shatters around him.)

He expects her embarrassment but not her smirk, “Careful. Promises must be kept, Astarion.” 

She pecks him on the lips again, fully extricating herself from him to climb the steps to the main deck. 

Cheeky, maddening pup.

Yes, Astarion decides, he will make her shout his name so loud Vlaakith herself will hear. 

______________________________________________________________

The Astral Sea is not what Astarion expected. Not that he expected much of anything since he didn’t really want to come here in the first place.

Zélie is leaning against the taffrail in front of him, a multitude of celestial bodies surrounding them. She is so eager to examine every part of the vessel that she stepped onto the outer deck the moment the ship slowed down to pick up some more crew members (As if they weren’t cramped enough already.)

“Don’t you find it uncanny, Astarion? This works very much like a regular ship, and yet it doesn’t. The Astral Sea functions like any material sea, until it doesn’t. And those strange helms—” 

“A pinnacle of technology, taken from the Ghaik and immensely improved by the Githianki so that our empire may conquer and prosper,” comments Lae’zel. Her queen’s betrayal hasn’t quelled the admiration for her own people; if anything, she seems more determined than ever to see a worthy leader at the helm of Gith society. “With a spelljamming brig such as this, you can travel anywhere, anytime. Time passes differently in the Astral Plane. Open a gate into one of many material planes to plunder and pillage to your heart’s content!” 

Gods, intense as always I see. Good. 

A formidable trait in war; fearsome in a foe, welcome in an ally. 

(So Lae’zel can protect Zélie on the battlefield while he keeps her safe from the shadows.)

Zélie’s attention shifts to the mechanism supporting the sails as she speaks, “The travelling part sounds delightful, Lae’zel. The plundering and pillaging less so, for my tastes.” 

The Gith begins a rant about the istik’s inherent weak nature. She even dares to say his Zélie should have chosen her as a partner, back when she proposed, so her martial skills would not have been dulled by the puny vampire. 

Excuse me?!

“I’ll let you know, Lae’zel, that I can keep our dear leader on her toes just fine,” the elf interjects. Astarion is about to add a snarky remark (He was chosen after all.), but Zélie speaks first, “Oh Lae’zel, I would have just been an impediment and you know it. I would have slowed down all the conquering and deadly fighting you enjoy so much. Besides,” she turns to Astarion, a playful glint in her eyes. If he weren’t so attuned to her, he’d miss it.

 (He wonders how many silent gestures he has missed at the start of their travels.)

“I am where I am meant to be,” she concluded. The tips of his ears definitely do not blush at those words. 

(She’ll be the end of him and he wouldn’t have it any other way.) 

Astarion shoots his darling a winning smile, which morphs into a cocky grin as he looks at Lae’zel. 

There. Don’t be sour, you heard what she said. 

Lae’zel is unimpressed. “T’chk. Suit yourself, Zel. Your loss.” 

She marches off towards the helm of the brig when Zélie interrupts her, “Wait. You mentioned that time here passes differently, but how so?”

The Gith sighs, “Ignorants. It’s not the time itself, but its effects. They come to an almost complete halt; no hunger, no ageing—you’ll see when you won’t recall the last time you ate.” 

“Oh”. Oh. 

No ageing is almost as good as—

Immortality. 

Astarion has heard about the Astral plane before, but it seemed so out of his reach he never bothered to learn more. He pickpocketed a book or two about it from some of his liaisons, but they were confiscated immediately and he was handed to Godey for his insolence. It’s not as if Cazador ever had any interest in entertaining his spawn’s curiosity. 

Time is of no consequence to him, but to know that Zélie’s limited lifespan (Because of course the impossible woman had to be human, of all things.) could also be endlessly extended— 

Astarion faces her, her eyes already on him, lit up with the same realisation. He doesn’t dare to hope it’s going to be that simple, but gods, if anyone deserves eternal life is her. And he deserves some happiness without such a dreadfully finite time limit, he fucking does. 

He sees how Lae’zel looks at him, then Zélie, and sighs loudly. She stomps off, shouting, “Boarding is about to be complete. I suggest you two get inside soon enough, if you don’t want to end your dull lives swept away by the astral winds.” 

Astarion nods as she passes by him—her people-reading’s skills have improved enormously since they met. The moment she is out of earshot, he speaks, “Darling, did you—”

“I don’t know—” Zélie says, at the same time. 

The elf lets out a shrill, small laugh, “You first, my sweet.” 

She smiles, a “I don’t know what to think, Astarion. Being immune to the effects of time, it all seems so impossible, so…” He knows what she is thinking, that it’s unnatural, that it’s not how things, people, are supposed to be. When he thought ascending was the right choice for them, when he failed to convince her to embrace becoming his eternal bride, she recoiled, attached to her mortality. 

She doesn’t understand. 

He would outlive her even if he were not a vampire because he is an elf and she, holy as she is, is human. There is no facet of reality where she won’t leave him behind and go where he can’t follow—

“I think we should try,” Zélie stands taller, back straight, like a general making an important call, “After we help your siblings and all the others settle down. Who knows, maybe we can even get our own astral skiff. Do you think dogs will be fine here? I wouldn’t want to leave Scratch behind.”  

She talks faster, excited, and Astarion’s breath catches, head spinning even though he doesn’t need air. He darts forward to cage her between himself and the taffrail, causing her to let out the most adorable little breath. 

(Perfect.)

Zélie composes herself again, “And if we can travel between material planes, there may be a chance to find mine…to find my family. Even if just to tell them I’m well and to introduce you to them.”

Astarion feels like he’s falling, so he catches himself with centuries-old sarcasm. “To—what? Love, you can’t be serious. Introducing a vampire spawn to your oh-so-proper family is a moronic thing to do, even for an impossible woman such as yourself.” 

They would scorn you my sweet. 

She speaks of her family, her planet, sometimes. The image of stern faces, so similar to hers, twisted in fear—or worse, disgust—at the monster their precious Zélie is in love with leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. He isn’t fond of children, but even he wouldn’t want his daughter to have anything to do with something like him. 

Zélie exhales in offence, “Of course I want you to meet them, ridiculous elf. I have nothing to hide. I am proud of you, all of you, infinitely, and I know they would be too. You complete me, and for that they would welcome you with open arms.” She stares him down in challenge. 

Astarion studies her expression as he presses his forehead to hers. He seeks for unwillingness, for embellishments of the truth—because lying is a sin to her— and finds none. 

You mean this. Gods.

“Yes, love. We can bring the pest. We can even ask Halsin for the owlbear if you’d like. We will travel through every single material plane if we need to. Anything,” he kisses her parted lips, “Anything,” pecks her cheeks, “Anything,” her forehead, “Anything,” her nose, “Anything you want.” His grip on her tightens. 

She smiles at his onslaught, “All right, all right. We’ll find out how to make it work. For a while!” Zélie points her index finger at him in mock sternness, “I don’t think an unchanging eternity wandering the Astral Sea is something we should limit ourselves to, even if I want to. What purpose would it serve?”

“Purpose?” Astarion snarls the word as if it personally offended him, “We are purpose enough, stubborn woman.” He lifts her up and she clings to him on instinct. He strides inside the ship, ignoring the disapproving looks of the Giths. 

“Astarion! What are you doing?!” 

He whispers, fangs grazing her ear, “I’m finding a private space on this overcrowded thing, darling, so I can fully demonstrate how purposeful I can be.”

Zélie pales and flushes at the same time, and Astarion can feel himself basically purring at the thought of what he’s going to do to her—

“I’m glad you learnt to keep your promises, Astarion,” she murmurs, the outline of a smile into his neck.

Oh love, you have no idea.

[noxcorvorum]

The train arrives, and the mechanisms leave, perhaps getting cosmically irradiated in the process, unable to see the collapse of yggdrasil before the metal of their bodies peels the scourge from their systems and the rainbows from their eyes, before aurora gets out of range of the exploding oil slick in colors unseen and imperceivable covering every planet like a shroud and bringing snapping mouths and hungry teeth and rending claws ripping into the fabric of space as loki and sigyn join each other in death and the bodies of the occupants of the ratatosk express spill into physical space, frey's corpse flayed and frayed and split at the seams, freyja fused with the wall, bones and flesh merged with metal dripping with golden-red, heimdall's empty sockets gazing at nothing and everything, seeing to all the edges of the corruption, tyr and garm entwined, tyr's new hand gripped by garm's sharpened teeth and garm's heart clutched in tyr's ragged fingers, odin's serpentine form slumped on the floor of the observation deck, single eye wide and staring out into the abyss as her blood tinged with acid and deadly rainbow drips from thor's borrowed hammer and mingles with his own where he lies nine steps from her corpse, and the knot of cosmic horror spreads, and spreads, and spreads until it encompasses yggdrasil and all its nine planets, and still it creeps forth. No one goes near yggdrasil, anymore. Just like fort galfridian, abandoned during its fall and left to rust and rot and burn and plummet into avalon, the yggdrasil system is left alone and watched and monitored as the squamous things creep closer. They seem to slow, as they get further out, but it never stops, an oil slick spreading infection and mutation and horror over everything it touches, for the flutes have stopped, the doors have opened, and azathoth awakens. The sole survivor, an inspector second class of the midgardian transport police, must move often and quickly, as they drip corruption behind them like a cloak, like so much water on soaked earth, and it spreads and screams and rips and rends if they do not leave whatever planet they stop at before it puts down roots. Everyone they encounter can tell they have been fundamentally changed, by the swirling colors in their eyes and the slight echoed song in their voice and the chromatic smudges that leak from their fingertips onto everything they touch. The void does not let them die, knitting their flesh and sealing their bones back together on a tide of vivid color and nauseous patterns. They take to music and storytelling, narrating the fall of their planetary system as a way to commemorate its existence, and as a warning to any who would listen of the distortion and decay raging its way forth, for they are herald and harbinger for the squamous things, and it will never let them go.

[discotenny]

1:05 AM

Call Him?

⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩ tw: panic attacks

Loud ringing echoes through your blankets, a protective fort built above your head. Surrounded by pillows and mountains of fluff, you can’t help but feel cold.

When you press the video call button on your phone, your screen turns dark. For that small glimpse in time in the grand scheme of everything, you’re left to sit in the pure darkness of your room, under the blankets, inside your walls- you’re faced with the black pit reality that you were alone.

The ringing comes as a desperate plea for company. A desire for comfort, to know you weren’t the only one alive in the world at the hour.

The name on your screen and face in your mind spark small glimpses of hope inside that maybe, just maybe the night will shine a little bright.

Your mind chants his name in a summon. Each ring is accompanied by dwindling hope that he would answer. Each pause between sounds is emphasized by the pitch darkness of the space you exist in.

You can’t tell what’s worse. The noise or the pauses in between?

The question makes your tired mind race with questions you don’t even know the wonder of. The walls you can’t see seem ever expanding and ever imprisoning. Suddenly, the blankets that seem protective feel suffocating and hot.

It feels like an hour that your phone has been ringing and your screen has been dark. You try to end the call, justifying it through remorse or regret, and a tap of the screen causes your thoughts to accelerate.

You’re staring at the front facing camera. The emptiness of the void staring at you is you. The darkness and coldness of the world you find yourself alone is reflected in the one thing that shines through your screen- your own eyes. Your breathing quickens, your mind in hyperdrive as you try to think rationally- to get yourself out of the horrible dread and drear.

You try to end the call but just as you do the silence in between rings is interrupted with a new sound.

Static of a fan, a tired sigh, and background noise coming from a nighttime street unfamiliar to you. The darkness staring you back is different.

“Baby?” His voice wavers, fighting against yawns. Despite the tiredness present, a palpable sense of concern walks along it.

Your phone is held close to your face as you close your eyes for what seems like the first time in eons. You’re sure your shaky breath can be heard on his end but you can’t help but react to the idea with anything other than a smile.

“You alright?” The question spreads through the blankets, through the pillows and the fluff, through the ever expanding and contracting walls of your room.

The first yawn of the late night escapes your throat unwillingly. “Yeah-“ you manage to get out “-just missed you real lots.”

⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩

[Hypmic] Dice, ICHIRO, Kuko, Jiro, Sasara, [TokyoRev] Mitsuya, CHIFUYU, Draken, Baji, [P5] RYUJI, Ren, Mishima, [Any of your favorites]

⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩⋆｡°✩

[furaflictedhost]

Afton Family Stupidity

~Thunderstorm~

The drive home was not a long one. Winter called for the sun to set far earlier than usual, so by the time William was able to go home it was dark.

Rain pattered down on the windshield, sending sparks of light across the windshield with every passing streetlamp. It was quiet for the short drive, and he hummed softly to himself, not bothering with the radio. He complacently watched the cars around him, a sense of ease settling into him after a long day.

A low rumble like the sky startled him from his calm. He listened closely, and when it happened again, he intensely focused on the road. He had something to attend to.

The moment he was home, he made a mad dash for the front door, raindrops nipping at him every step of the way. Leaning heavily against the front door, William took a deep breath, and flopped down on the bench beside him.

“Hey, hon! How was work?”

Poking her head around the doorframe, Mrs Afton greeted her husband with her usual bright grin. He waved, wrestling with the knot in his shoelaces with his other hand. 

“It was alright. I narrowly dodged the downpour.”

Shucking off his shoes, William headed for the living room, and snagged the cushions off the couch. Clara watched her husband tear apart the couch set up, and tilted her head upwards to listen. Upon hearing the clash of thunder, she understood. 

Setting the cushions up carefully off to one side, William gathered as many pillows from around the room as possible, even borrowing from other rooms. After a quick but sturdy setup, he threw a quilt over the whole thing, and added chairs around the perimeter for support.

Sometimes being an engineer meant being able to construct a really awesome pillow fort. 

After ensuring his set up was sturdy, he headed up the stairs, and poked his head into his youngest’s room. Thunder was one of the things that Evan had no fear of. Regardless, He often joined them in the pillow fort. 

The room was devoid of life, but all of the plushies had been snagged from their spaces, and the quilt from the bed was mysteriously tucked under. Evan had likely escaped to his favored hiding place.

Kneeling, William lifted the edge of the blanket. He was met with a wide eyed stare, and Foxy staring at him, sitting as a guard at the end of the bed. Wordlessly, Evan crawled out from under the bed at the sight of his father, grabbing a few of his fluffy friends as he went. William smirked, amused by his son’s appearance from the void underneath his bed, and beckoned for him to follow.

“Come on, Let us go find your sister.”

When he poked his head in, Elizabeth was perched on her bed, eyes squeezed shut and hands clasped over her headphones as she tried to block out the noise. Approaching slowly, William sat down next to her, and gently put his hands over hers. Her green eyes snapped open, and she looked up at him, bottom lip quivering. She slowly took off her headphones, and took her father’s hand.

“Hi, Daddy…”

She spoke quietly, voice shaky from crying. He smiled reassuringly, and she latched onto him, pulling herself close to his chest. Gently, he patted her on the back of the head, smoothing back her hair. 

“Hello, little one. I have constructed a pillow fort. How about you and Evan head downstairs, and I’ll meet you there?”

Lizzy looked up at him, seeming hesitant. 

“Your mother is making hot chocolate.”

That seemed to give her enough incentive. She nodded, climbed off her bed, taking her brother’s hand. After they had headed downstairs, he looked down the hall at his eldest child’s room.

Michael had been terrified of thunder since he was little, running to hide at the first sign of a storm. The pillow fort had started with him, as the fluffy fortress seemed to distract him from the fear. He refused to come join them last time, declaring himself too old for his father’s attempts to soothe him. Perhaps if he extended the offer, he would come join them?

The door to his room was ajar, and he had his blanket wrapped tightly around his shoulders. He shook, staring at the window blankly, watching the raindrops slide down the glass. With every crash of thunder, he flinched, and gripped the blanket tighter.

A gentle tapping on the door frame brought his attention back to the moment. He looked over his shoulder to see his father silhouetted in the doorway. 

“Hey there, sport.”

Gripping the blanket tighter, Michael looked down, and then back to the window. He opened his mouth to respond, but a crash of thunder forced a squeak out of him in place of the words. William stepped forward, intent to comfort him, but stopped. Michael had asked him not to in the past. 

“We have built a pillow fort downstairs. You are welcome to join us if you would like.”

Michael looked like he wanted to respond, perhaps an angry retort, but the words never left him. His face screwed up, brows furrowing, but then fell to an apprehensive frown. 

“You do not have to if you do not want to.”

At the reassurance from his father, Michael’s face fell to a frightened stare. He desperately wanted to retain the image he’d cultivated, the bad boy who didn’t need his parents. However, at that moment he didn’t feel that confidence. He felt like a small child, listening to the roar of a monster outside. Rising to his feet shakily, Michael dragged the blanket with him, and walked over to his father. 

As they walked downstairs, Michael pulled the blanket tight around him, almost tripping his father with how close he was following behind. William ushered his son into the pillow fort, where Evan and Elizabeth were waiting with Clara. 

Michael settled down next to his mother, and Clara handed him a mug of hot chocolate, ruffling his hair affectionately. She adjusted the blanket around her son, so it wasn’t falling off his shoulders. William sat down next to them, and began fiddling with the lamp.

Evan scooted closer to his brother, a determined look on his face. After shuffling around in his stuffed animal pile, he firmly placed his Foxy plush on his brother’s lap. With a shaky smile, Mike adjusted the Foxy plush with his free hand. 

“Thanks Squirt.”

Evan nodded, and planted himself next to Michael, putting his head on his shoulder. Clara wrapped her arm around both of them, holding her sons close. Elizabeth quickly clambered over, and snuggled up to her mom.

At some point, William turned on the television, allowing the melody of Fredbear and Friends to dull the silence and distract from the fear. The thunder continued to crash outside, but Michael could barely hear it. He felt like a small kid again, and for the moment, he didn’t mind. 

[madcatdaderpydrawer-blog]

I’m thinking of night making a group chat for all the other lords of darkness he keeps meeting. So it’s just a chat full of other versions of himself. Mack is included even if he barely involves himself in the conversations.

One time he sent a ten minute long video of him staring at the camera from the darkness of his fort and void asked “is this a threat” and he didn’t respond