#fuzzy-cloud-head-queen

[beloveds-embrace]

Fae 141 x human reader for @nightunite <33 reader gets another pet! masterlist

The first time it landed on the palace roof, the moon hid behind clouds, and Thrain stood at your side like a silent shadow, antlers gleaming red and wet with mist. He growled low in his throat, a sound that seemed more annoyed than alarmed, and you followed his eyes upward to the fluttering thing that drifted down like a wayward lantern.

It was enormous; that was the first thing you noticed.

Wings the size of shields shimmered in hues of cream and gold, like candlelight trapped in silk. Its body was thick and furred, round eyes glowing faintly like dew-lit pearls. It made no sound- only that occasional fwmp of wings as it settled, slowly, onto the stone courtyard outside your chambers.

You stepped forward, barefoot over the chilled flagstones, nightgown trailing behind you like fog. Thrain didn’t follow, but his growl deepened- until the moth turned, angled its head, and blinked at you with a very soft, very dumb expression.

Then it lit up.

Warm. Golden. Like sun through eyelids.

You let out a soft laugh- one of the few real ones in weeks, absolutely delighted. And Thrain, ever your grumpy guardian, gave a dramatic huff and turned his back, as though deeply offended.

You named it Glowy, of course. Because it did, indeed, glow very lovely and bright.

Glowy followed you the way shadows followed light- gentle, constant, oblivious to the fuss it caused. It adored Thrain, even though Thrain tolerated it with the weariness of an older sibling forced to share space with a chatty toddler. It waddled after you on fuzzy legs, or hovered beside your balcony, wings throwing warm light across your papers when you worked too late.

You loved it.

On the other hand, the court hated it.

Glowy’s light- soft and pleasant to you, like the sun taking form just for you- made fae eyes sting. It blurred their glamours, dulled their illusions and spells, made the more vain courtiers look like wilted versions of themselves. Nobles flinched as you passed, shielding their faces with jeweled sleeves. Glowy didn’t care. It only blinked and hummed and bumped its big, fluffy head against your shoulder like an affectionate sheep obsessed with its shepherd.

Even Queen Mother nearly stumbled into a column trying to dodge its path, and you swore you heard it let out a smug little trill, though you’d never dare say it outloud.

Truthfully, you thought the boys might command it gone- even if they haven’t even said anything about Thrain.

But that was not the case, you’d learn.

Johnny was the first to try and joke about it. “It’s like bein’ followed by a bloody fireplace,” he grumbled one night, shielding his eyes as Glow trotted in behind you during a late dinner. “M’gonna go blind, queenie. That what ye want?”

You only smiled and fed Glowy a slice of sugared fruit under the table. He glared but said nothing more.

Kyle muttered under his breath whenever it fluttered too close, ruffled his clothes, or knocked over his ink with a stray wing- but you noticed, once, how he draped a shawl over it when it curled up outside your door on a rainy evening. Even if he kept stumbling around a little because of Glowy’s light.

Simon didn’t speak of it at all. But he watched- closely. Especially when the court muttered too loudly or when Thrain and Glowy both flanked you in the halls, glowing and growling. One day, you caught him standing by the stables, watching Glowy preen its wings in the sun. He didn’t approach. But he didn’t walk away, either. And in the end, despite his own eyes squinting from Glowy’s glow, he offered it a big, freshy leaf.

John, then, watched you.

He saw how you smiled when you leaned against Glowy’s side during long meetings. How your fingers idly stroked its soft fur like a comfort you didn’t realize you sought. And when the light filled your room late into the night, pouring warm and golden through the windows, he stood at the threshold of your chamber, hand on the door- just watching.

Then, he sighed. Fuck.

Thrain still growls at them if they don’t soften their voice when speaking to you. It haunts them if they take up too much of your time, and stomps its hooves into the rotting earth underneath him whenever and stares into every nook and cranny of their souls when you are sad.

Now, there is another creature whose approval they need to get?

[bunnis-monsters]

you're probably tired of bee asks, but i have to know: how fuzzy are they? the babies are understandably very fluffy, but what about the guards, drones, and attendants? does fuzziness depend on what their purpose is and how coarse/fine it is? like the attendants have silkier fluff to look more appealing to the queen and the guards have coarser, thicker fluff to help protect themselves while defending the hive?

You’ve hit the nail on the head!

The queen’s attendants are incredibly soft and fluffy, her boy toys ESPECIALLY! Some of her attendants are her sons, and their softness depends on their father’s fluff.

Bees that leave the hive often have thicker/rougher fuzz to protect themselves from the harsh outside world.

Scientist bees have fuzz that is protective against dangerous chemicals!! It’s a gene that has been purposefully bred for many years. Bee hybrids are actually quite sensitive to harmful chemicals(like most insects are), but the scientists can take a whole lot more punishment!

They’re trying to breed this into drones as well, by selecting drones that carry the queen to breed with the queen more often.

Speaking of drones, they breed with the queen a lot and also serve as the military force. They’re strong, and have course fuzz. Fun fact though, it softens up to a bearable texture when it’s time to mate with the queen!

Bees that stay inside the hive most of their lives have no need for protective fuzz and are so fluffy and soft that they feel like being hugged by a cloud!

And ofc baby bees are just fluffy little fuzz balls!

[drsantosgf]

Forever Love

General Audiences | Words: 3,753 | TW: Sexual Harassment

-

Buck misses Tommy. He always misses Tommy. He misses him when he’s in the bathroom, when he’s at work, when he’s sat across the table and their feet aren’t touching. Buck is self-aware enough to know that he has a problem. But this time, it’s serious.

He’s drunk. And Tommy isn’t here.

And they’re fighting.

He’s just a little past tipsy in a gay bar where the music is too loud and the floor is too sticky but the rainbow flags in the window give him this fuzzy feeling in his chest. It’s nice, knowing he has a community, having a sense of belonging. Having something he didn’t know he was missing, being with people who are like him. It’s queerness and tacky rainbow tank tops and seeing color for the first time and breathing in and out without the weight of something missing sitting on his chest.

“Dude, this place is great!”

Oh, Eddie’s here too.

They started the night at Eddie’s house. Buck ran to Eddie the minute he slammed the front door of his and Tommy’s new house and jumped in his Jeep.

He doesn’t remember what the fight was about, not just because the alcohol was kind of making it hard to remember details, but because it was really about nothing in particular. Or maybe it was about everything. All the little things like Tommy leaving his shoes in the doorway and Buck forgetting to load the dishwasher. One bad shift, a few small jabs, and then suddenly they were screaming at each other. And then Buck ran.

They had moved in together three weeks ago. The first two weeks were bliss, but now a heavy storm cloud has settled over their home. Buck thinks about the honeymoon phase everyone was warning him about and he aches to go back to it. He remembers when he used to think Tommy had never done anything wrong and if he had, there were perfectly reasonable explanations for it. But now he’s seeing him in more varied colors than just rose-tinted ones. And he’s realizing Tommy is having the same revelation. They're more themselves, more adult, messier and complicated. And Buck’s terrified.

But he’s also pissed.

“Can you fucking believe he yelled at me for something so petty?” Buck had said, pacing around Eddie’s living room, “It’s like he wasn’t even listening to me.”

“Well, didn’t you also yell at him?”

“Who’s side are you on?”

A small, petty part of him was smug about getting to Eddie before Tommy did. The last few fights they had, Tommy had been the one to storm out and seek solace in the Diaz home. This time, Buck ran before Tommy had the chance. He had been happy to share his side of the story and Eddie was a kind enough friend to realize Buck needed to vent his very biased account of things, nodding along and giving support where it was needed.

Then came the beers. Then the bars. Then Buck spotted those rainbow flags in the window while stumbling along the sidewalk and told Eddie that if he was a good ally, he would follow him in and let him blow off some steam.

Except now, he’s kind of running out of steam. He misses his boyfriend and the guilt of raising his voice is starting to dampen his mood. He feels regret souring on his tongue and it’s diluting all the endorphins that were released from doing shots with Drag Queens earlier in the night.

Eddie’s still going strong though. His hair is kind of messy, glitter decorating his pink cheeks, a goofy smile plastered across his face. He lost the button up he started the night with so now he’s rocking a white tank top that shows off his arms nicely. Needless to say he’s getting a lot of attention- attention that he’s either ignoring or oblivious to.

“Dude, dude, why don’t we come here more often? Why do we go to the sad bar for straight people when we could come here instead? Everyone’s so nice!” Eddie is starting to shout in his ear a little bit.

“You can just come here on your own, you know,” Buck suggests.

Eddie shakes his head, “I don’t wanna… um-” he cuts off, snapping his fingers, “intrude! I don’t wanna intrude. Do you think if I ask Josh, he’d take me? He talks about feeling weird coming to bars alone all the time! OH!” Eddie gasps, like he’s had a great idea, “Should I text Josh? He could come down here, it’d be great!”

Eddie starts to take his phone out before Buck stops him, “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Eds.”

Eddie waves him off before the song changes and suddenly he’s disappearing back into the crowd of swaying bodies. Buck should probably try to keep an eye on him but he’s busy silently mourning the quiet night in with his boyfriend he was going to have. Then he starts to mourn the night he wanted to spend distracting himself from his own grievances with said boyfriend, trying to drown out the voice telling him how badly he fucked things up. Now, he’s playing babysitter to giddy-drunk Eddie.

“Don’t you look lonely.” Suddenly there’s a body pushing against his side and alcohol-ridden breath wafting over his ear.

He reels back, cringing at the close proximity. He huffs and takes another sip of his beer.

“Oh, what, you’re gonna give me the cold shoulder?” The guy moves closer again. “Come on, what’s got you so down?”

He ignores him again, trying to turn his body away. The guy slides a hand against his side and fingers the hem of his shirt. Buck shoves him off.

“Fuck off,” Buck growls, and then for good measure, “I’ve got a boyfriend.” Who he misses. God, he wishes Tommy was here.

“Well, I don’t see him anywhere. Must not be a very good boyfriend, then.”

Buck starts to get defensive, opening his mouth to speak, before the words jumble in his throat. It’s a little hard to think coherently, but what comes to mind are images of Tommy making him dinner after a long shift, scrubbing his hands through his soapy hair in the shower, kissing his birthmark before bed every night. He’s not sure how to articulate it, all the feelings rising in his throat at the claim that Tommy isn’t a good boyfriend, a good partner, a good person.

“Buck! Buck, listen, man, you gotta try this drink- oh, who’s this?”

The guy scoffs as Eddie suddenly reappears from God knows where, “Really? This guy?” He points at Eddie.

Eddie looks behind him wildly, “Who?”

Buck thinks briefly about drowning himself in one of the bar toilets. Then decides he’d be getting out of this too easy, and this is probably karma for ruining the great thing he had going with Tommy.

“So you’re his boyfriend?” The guy is now directly talking to Eddie.

There are several looks that pass over Eddie’s face. He looks like he’s solving a puzzle for a second then there’s a little twinkle in his eye and then he straightens his back with determination and pride, “Yep!”

Buck chokes on his own spit, “What?”

“Hey, I’m Tommy, Buck- no, Evan’s boyfriend.” He looks immensely proud of himself, “So, bye. He’s taken. By me, Tommy, I’m a great pilot and subpar at Muay Thai. So leave us alone.”

The guy apparently has decided to double down on being an ass, though, “Really, you could do so much better.” He’s turned back to Buck now. “Why would you ever choose to be with a guy who can’t hold his beer and makes an idiot of himself in public?”

“He’s not an idiot!” Buck throws his hands in the air. He’s not sure if he’s defending Tommy or Eddie here, but they’re kind of blurring into one person right now.

“What do you have going for you anyways, bro? I’m a pilot!” Eddie decides to puff his chest out a little now, shoving his hands in his front pockets. Buck realizes he’s trying to mimic Tommy’s mannerisms, much to his own horror. Now is probably not a good time to mention that this guy doesn’t actually know what Tommy looks like, therefore he doesn’t actually need to pretend to be Tommy. But his heart clenches at how hard Eddie’s trying anyways. “A firefighter-pilot!” Eddie continues, “Those are like two of the hottest professions you can have. I also do Muay Thai, although not as good as my amazing friend, Eddie, but still very good.”

“Wow, self-obsessed much?” The guy tries to touch Buck’s arm, “Come on, don’t you wanna ditch him? Do you really think this guy is gonna give you what you need?”

“What do you know about what he needs? I’ll have you know that we live together, actually!” Eddie is starting to shout again, “It’s going great. Or well, it is, isn’t it?” He turns to Buck.

“What?”

“It is going great, right? Like we’re still happy, aren’t we?”

Buck thinks of Tommy at home right now, sitting on the sofa in his stupid, sexy reading glasses. He’s probably still fuming from the fight. Buck pictures him biting his nails, a habit he’s tried to kick. He whines a little in the back of his throat at the thought of being his point of stress. His bones ache to curl up in bed, head tucked into Tommy’s shoulder, feeling Tommy’s arm gently graze over his spine. He thinks about moving around the kitchen with him, seamlessly in tune with his every move. He thinks about coming up behind him and pulling Tommy back’s flush against his chest and kissing his hairline.

“Yeah, of course, we’re still happy.”

“Do you really have to ask?” The guy asks smugly, quirking an eyebrow.

Eddie’s still looking at him though, eyes searching, “I worry about that sometimes, you know? Like,” he breathes and makes a decision, “sometimes I’ll talk to our friend, Eddie. And I’ll tell him how much I love you, but how scared I am that I don’t make you happy enough. And it doesn’t matter how many times I-or Eddie tells me that you’re the happiest you’ve ever been, I’m scared you’re gonna wake up and realize there’s something else out there for you. At least, that’s what I tell Eddie. And I swore him to secrecy too, I made him promise not to mention that to you because I don't want you to think I’m a burden or anything. And because Eddie is such a good friend, he promised he wouldn’t say anything but I think now Eddie is getting tired of watching us both think the other one could do better. That’s how Eddie feels. Cause we’re both great, you know. Best friends he’s ever had.”

“Is that how uh- you really feel?” Buck asks, “You think I’m gonna find something better?”

Eddie nods, lips pursed, “Well, it's not like- I don't think you're gonna just walk out with some fuck-face you meet at a bar,” he gestures to the guy still standing there confused, “but I think I’m more worried you’re going to realize I’m not what you want. That it's too hard, I guess. And we've been fighting more and more recently and it's really getting to me, man.”

“I just feel like you keep shutting me out, though. It's not the little things that get to me, it's the fact that every time I try to talk to you about it, you just shut down.”

“Okay, I get that. But I think if I had to say why I do that, it's because I’m scared that if we really start to talk about it, you’ll come to the conclusion that you won't want to put up with me.”

“Tommy, I’m trying to build a life together, I’m in this, all the way. And don't you think I’m scared, too? It's like you’re not listening to what I’m telling you.”

“You talk about how you don't feel listened to, but it’s never really clear what you’re saying,” Eddie throws his hands up and clears his throat awkwardly, “I think.”

Buck stops to consider that. He’s tried to tell Tommy how he feels, how scared he is he’s gonna fuck it up. He still feels like he’s a guest in Tommy’s home, not because of anything Tommy’s done per say. He thinks maybe he’s still trying to walk on eggshells, not make too many waves. So he beats around the bush. He points out Tommy’s shoes in the doorway when he’s made a point to put his own in the closet, clearing his throat when he picks them up and puts them away. Tommy glances at him and hums, looking away.

It always made Buck feel like Tommy’s just tolerating him- putting up with his “clipboard” tendencies.

“Okay, I guess you have a point. I’m not actually that mad that you leave your shoes wherever you take them off, or how you leave dirty clothes on the bathroom floor, or that you always make the bed too tight. Like, I don't care about those things. I just- fuck, I don't know. It feels like it's still your house, and I’m still living out of a few drawers and an overnight bag.”

Eddie furrows his eyebrows, “Do I make you feel that way?”

Buck sighs, “Not on purpose, I don't think. I think it's just a lot of other bad experiences with living with people I’ve dated and yeah, maybe, it feels like you keep erasing the mark I’m trying to leave. I keep trying to get you to put your shoes in the closet, and you just won't.”

“I thought you said you weren't really mad about that.” Eddie seems like he’s having a hard time following their relationship lore.

“It's not that. It's more that all of the little things I’m trying to do to make it feel like ours, you’re just not having.”

“Have you ever told me that? Like in those words? Cause from where I’m standing, I think I’m just trying to give you your space and stay close to mine.”

“I don't just want my space and then your space, I want our space. I want to have things we do together, systems we can agree on. Not just because it annoys me when you don't follow my rules, Tommy. I don't want you to feel trapped with me.”

“Well, I don't want you to feel suffocated. That's what I told Eddie.”

Buck breathes in a small sob. He’s always been an emotional drunk.

“I love you, all of you. Even your messiness. I just want to feel like you're in this too. I’ve had a lot of shitty relationships where I'm the only one putting anything into it. And you’ve always felt different. Like I could actually get attached to you. And it feels like you're pulling back.” Buck sinks in on himself, heart breaking at the idea that Tommy’s falling farther away.

Eddie looks pained, but enlightened, “I think I’m pulling back because I don't want to pressure you. I think I’m really, really into you, dude. And it's scary to put so much of yourself on the line. I think I’m afraid I was putting too much of myself into this, and you're gonna get exhausted.”

“Exhausted with what?”

“With how much I love you. With how amazing I think you are. With how I think I’ve decided I wanna spend the rest of my life with you.” Eddie finishes.

“Okay, what the fuck does all that mean?” The guy is still just standing beside them.

“Bro, go away.”

“Like why are you even still here?”

The guy walks away, muttering something about them being exhausting and a waste of his time.

“He’s said all to you?” Buck ducks his head, not wanting to look Eddie in the eye.

“Some of it, yeah,” Eddie nods, wrinkling his forehead, “The feeling like you're too much of a good thing, wanting to spend the rest of his life with you, generally feeling like shit whenever you fight, yeah, we talked about all that.” He hiccups, “Some of it I improvised. I know both of you pretty well by now, and I’m tired of constantly going back and forth between you whenever you fight. Especially when you're saying the same thing. Do you know how frustrating that is?”

Buck waits for him to elaborate. Eddie rolls his eyes. “You guys are committed. It's just that you're both being really, really stupid about it. And living with another person is hard, especially when you’re trying so hard to keep so much of yourself in. You’ve got to open up a little, man. And so does he, but I think the first thing you gotta do is talk.”

“Hm. I should probably go home.” His head is starting to hurt and he feels like throwing up or passing out or crying, and he doesn't want to do any of those things outside of the comfort of his own home.

His and Tommy’s own home.

Eddie's eyes light up again and Buck had the exact same thought at the exact same time, “Uber!”

Eddie falls dead asleep on the ride to Buck and Tommy’s house. When they arrive, Buck profusely apologizes to the Uber driver for all the snoring and retching.

Eddie leans against his shoulder as they walk up to the door. Buck notices a wreath that wasn't there before and remembers talking about decorating the house for the holidays early. Tommy hadn't been completely sold on the idea at the time but there it was, displayed on their front door. It felt like a peace offering in of itself.

He fumbled with his key and accidently locked the already unlocked door, which Eddie laughed at for the full minute it took him to realize and then unlock the door again.

“Shhh. He’s probably asleep.”

“Evan?”

“Oh shit.” Then Eddie falls on the floor somehow. Buck isn’t really paying attention to whatever Eddie’s issues with gravity are. The moment he sees Tommy standing in the hallway in his sleeveless red top and sweats, he bolts and throws his arms around his neck.

“I’m sorry.” Buck mumbles into his neck.

Tommy sighs and hugs back, “I know, baby. I’m sorry, too.”

Eddie stands back up, celebrates quietly to himself for a second, and then redirects his attention to Buck and Tommy, “Hey, Tommy.” He waves politely.

“Hey, Eddie.”

“I don’t wanna be Buck’s boyfriend anymore. You can have him back. You’re both so complicated. Josh wouldn’t be so complicated.” Eddie starts mumbling to himself, swaying back and forth on his feet while fiddling with the leaves on the plant they have in their entrance.

Tommy seems to take a second process of what he just said and is doing mental gymnastics to decipher it, “What?”

“There was this guy, right? And he was kind of an asshole about it. So I pretended to be you, so he would leave Buck alone.”

Buck feels Tommy’s chest rise with jealousy, “A guy was messing with you?” Buck is man enough to admit that the heat in his voice does something for him.

“Mostly just being annoying.” Buck shrugs, arms still tied around Tommy’s neck.

“Hey, don’t worry. I defended his honor.” Eddie pounds a fist to his chest and then stumbles over to the couch.

Tommy worms his way out of Buck’s grip so he can close and lock the door and then turns back, “So, we’re good, then?”

Buck smiles, shoulder’s rising to his ears, laughing a little. He’s back to feeling giddy, a rush of love flooding through his chest, “Yeah, we’re gonna be great, Tommy, I promise.”

Tommy smiles and gravitates back to him, slipping an arm around his waist and kissing his collar bone.

“No funny business while I’m still here.” Eddie turns over on his side, tugging the throw blanket off the back of the couch.

“We gotta talk, though.” Buck traces a finger down Tommy’s chin, parking it in the little divot that used to taunt him. He has a cleft, Buck giggles again.

“About what?” Tommy goes still. His arm freezes up and the soft, gooey feeling in Buck’s chest gets a little chillier.

“I know about your annoying habits and you know about mine. We need to talk about ‘em to move past ‘em”

“And what if when we talk about it, we can’t find a way to move past it.” Tommy says quietly. For a second, Buck feels like he’s looking at himself. The facade of confidence cracks and suddenly there’s a lonely boy in a cold, empty house that starts to leak through. Buck’s chest hurts thinking about little Tommy. He was lonely and afraid. Buck remembers that feeling like a ghost whispering up his spine and he hates it. He hates that he ever thought this wasn’t something he could have. He hates that Tommy thought he’d be lonely and afraid forever. He hates that they both did.

He hates that Tommy feels like that right, standing in their home, in each other’s arms, where it should be safe from old wounds and lingering ghosts.

“Hey,” Buck’s finger on Tommy’s chin tightens and he brings his thumb up to force eye contact, “Don’t do that, please.”

Tommy shudders.

“Tommy, I’m gonna spend the rest of my life with you and you,” Buck grabs Tommy’s face with both hands, “Tommy, you are my forever love, okay? Your bad habits are not going to get in the way of that. You’re not getting rid of me any time soon.”

“Forever love, huh?” Tommy muses.

“If you let me, I wanna be your forever,” Buck places his index finger on Tommy’s lip, swiping. He wants to reach forward and never let go.

“Gladly,” Tommy leans over to bridge the gap, connecting their lips. They kiss for what feels like an eternity, with Eddie's snores as background music. Tommy slides an arm around Buck's waist and gently guides him to their bed.

Tommy kisses his birthmark and covers him with their warm cotton sheets they had picked out together. The bed is still too tight but he’ll tell him in the morning. They’ll talk, fight a little more, cry, and make up. They’ll fight for it, even when things get hard.

They fall asleep wrapped gently in love. Forever love.

[theshiniestgemstone]

it starts with hello- fem!reader x gideon gemstone

warnings: nosy parents

word count: ~2k

The kitchen was warm and chaotic, filled with the clatter of Tupperware lids, the hiss of sealing tape, and the constant shuffle of hands moving aluminum trays of deviled eggs and macaroni through a well-rehearsed assembly line. The women’s voices surrounded you like a cloud of perfume and hairspray—hushed gossip and occasional bursts of laughter mixing with talk of church fundraisers, whose husband did what, and how the new café on Main was already going downhill within a year of their grand opening.

You did your best to tune it out. Head down, sleeves rolled up, you focused on the task at hand: stacking boxes and counting portions. You’d been assigned a corner of the counter where you could do your work without disrupting the rhythm of the real women in charge. Your mother was in her element, deep in conversation with Ms. Amber Gemstone, the queen bee of the kitchen, who hadn't so much as glanced at you since you'd walked in.

“Three dozen in that one,” Amber instructed someone over her shoulder, her voice smooth but firm. “Mark it. I’m not having us show up to the luncheon with one tray short like last year.”

You kept your head low, fingers moving automatically as you sealed another box. It wasn’t like you to spend your day off boxing meals for a church luncheon you had no intention of attending, but your mom had a way of guilting you into things before you could make a decent excuse.

“Don’t sneak that cookie, Gideon,” Amber snapped suddenly, her voice slicing through the chatter. You blinked and looked up just in time to see him freeze mid-reach, caught red-handed with a half-lifted sugar cookie.

“I wasn’t!” He started, grinning sheepishly, already pulling his hand back. “I was checking for quality.”

Amber rolled her eyes. “Check the boxes, not the snacks.”

He turned toward the counter where you were working, and for the first time, you really looked at him. Smiling, lean, with soft strands of hair pulled back from his face and a clean but not fussy look. He looked… normal. Not stuck-up or overly polished like the rest of the sons you’d met. Just a guy in jeans and a T-shirt that had a smudge of flour near the hem.

You reached for the same cookie tray without thinking, and your hand brushed his.

It was barely a touch—just the graze of your fingers against the back of his—but it was enough to break your focus. You both recoiled instinctively, as if burned, and then looked up at the same time.

“Hello,” he said politely, like the awkward contact hadn’t just happened. His voice was low, casual, but not indifferent.

“Hi,” you replied just as quietly, equally formal. “Take two if you’re going to sneak them. Keep it even.”

There was a pause—not heavy, not awkward, just long enough to acknowledge something had shifted in the room. Or maybe just in your head.

He stepped aside so you could reach the tray, and you both resumed your respective tasks, pretending that moment hadn’t happened. But the next time your hands moved toward the same container, you hesitated for a beat longer.

Your mother’s laugh cut through the air, pulling your attention back. She was talking about someone’s divorce like it was a plot twist in a soap opera. You rolled your eyes and turned back to your boxes.

Gideon stayed near you, helping with the packaging instead of drifting back to wherever he’d come from. He didn’t speak much. He just asked where things went, handed you rolls of tape, and leaned close once or twice to read the numbers you’d scrawled on top of the boxes.

When Amber gave him another scolding glare, he grinned and raised his hands in mock surrender. “Don’t worry, Mama, I’m just being helpful.”

“You’re being nosy,” she muttered, but there was no heat behind it.

The car ride home was unusually quiet. The only sounds were the low hum of the engine and the muffled static of the radio station your mother refused to change, no matter how fuzzy it got once you crossed county lines. You leaned your head against the window, watching familiar storefronts pass in a blur, thinking about how many boxes of macaroni you'd packed and how much your lower back ached.

Your mom had been quiet ever since you left the Gemstone property. Suspiciously quiet. Which meant one of two things: either someone said something that got under her skin, or she was deep in thought about something she planned to make your problem. You glanced at her, noticing the way she tapped the steering wheel with her thumb. Always a dead giveaway.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, already bracing yourself.

She hesitated, sighed through her nose like she wanted to ease into it, and then said, “Gideon’s a good boy. You’d look nice together.”

You groaned immediately, letting your head thunk against the window. “Mom. No. Don’t even start.”

“I’m just saying,” she replied, defensive already. “It always starts with a simple hello. Your daddy said that to me and look where we are now. Twenty years later with you.”

“Daddy told me the first thing he ever said to you was, ‘Damn, little lady. You have a nice ass.’”

She gasped like she’d been slapped, her mouth dropping open before she muttered a string of curses under her breath. “That man don’t know how to keep his mouth shut. But after that,” she added with emphasis, pointing a finger at you, “there was a hello.”

You stared at her, deadpan. “That doesn’t make it better.”

“He was nervous!” she defended, as if that explained everything. “It was a different time.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you, even as you shook your head. “There is nothing about that story that screams true love, Mom.”

She waved a hand, turning the wheel as she pulled onto your street. “You’ll see. These things sneak up on you. You’ll be minding your business, boxing up casseroles, and then bam—you’re brushing hands and looking at each other like—like—”

“Like what?” you challenged, eyebrow raised.

She didn’t answer right away. She parked the car in front of your house, took the keys out of the ignition, and turned to look at you fully. “Like you already know each other, but you’re just now catching up,” she said, softer now, almost wistful. “It happens fast when it’s the right one.”

You didn’t say anything, just reached for the door handle with a huff. You didn’t want to think about Gideon’s stupid smile, or how warm his hands were, or the way he lingered next to you just enough to notice. You were tired, hungry, and emotionally drained from being in a room full of casserole gossip and overcomplicated church politics.

Still… when you closed your bedroom door that night, you caught yourself thinking about his hand brushing yours. Just for a second.

Then you cursed your mother under your breath and climbed into bed.

+++

Three days had passed since the casserole assembly line incident, and your mom had been annoyingly smug about it ever since. Every little coincidence—every time the landline rang, every knock at the door—was met with a sly, “Maybe it’s Gideon!” followed by a wink and your immediate groan. She’d gone out for the evening to have dinner with some of the other church women, leaving you blissfully alone.

You made the most of it.

Hair slicked back with coconut oil and a grocery-store mask slathered thick across your face—a bright pink one that smelled like strawberries and had started to peel slightly around your mouth—you’d sunk into the couch in your ugliest pajama shorts and a faded old T-shirt. Your hands and feet, propped lazily on pillows, were coated in a pale lilac polish that had dried over an hour ago. But you were too cozy, too comfortable to bother getting up.

The only light came from the TV, where reruns of Glee played in a soft loop. You weren’t even watching at this point, just zoning out, humming lines under your breath. That is, until the knock at the front door.

You jumped so hard the remote fell between the cushions. You blinked, startled. Another knock followed, louder this time, and then the doorbell.

“Jesus,” you muttered, scrambling upright.

You half-jogged, half-hobbled to the kitchen, grabbing a nearby washcloth and frantically scrubbing your face as you crossed to the door. It didn’t really help—your skin was still flushed pink and slightly sticky, and your hair was still very much slicked back in an oily mess—but at least you weren’t full-blown gooey.

You cracked open the front door, expecting maybe a neighbor or a package drop-off.

Instead, standing there awkwardly on the porch, was Gideon Gemstone. He wore a dark coat over a white knit sweater that looked expensive and soft, like something straight out of a catalog. His hands were stuffed into the sleeves, clutching a folded item of clothing.

“I just came to drop this off,” he said quickly, voice low and a little too rehearsed. “My mom said your mom left it the other day.”

You blinked. “Seems a little late.” You glanced toward the wall clock behind you. 7:21pm. “But thank you."

Gideon’s ears turned red immediately, and his cheeks weren’t far behind.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, clearing his throat. “I, uh… I was in the area. Got a little… sidetracked.”

What he didn’t say: that he’d left the house at 3:00 sharp with every intention of dropping off the sweater, then spent four full hours driving loops around town with sweaty palms and a rapidly spiraling internal monologue. He’d gone from confident to mortified to hopeful to maybe this is a mistake and back again at least seven times before finally pulling into your driveway.

You eyed him for a moment, shifting your weight onto your heels. “You okay?”

He gave a short laugh and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah. Just… wasn’t expecting you to answer the door like that.”

It was then that you remembered your current state.

You looked down at your shiny knees and pajama shorts, the still-wet washcloth in your hand, and the unmistakable sheen of coconut oil reflecting in the hallway light.

Your eyes went wide. “Oh my God.”

He held up a hand quickly, like that would stop the earth from swallowing either of you whole. “No, no! I didn’t mean that in a bad way. You—uh—you look fine. Comfortable. I mean, it’s your house. You can do whatever you want in your own house—”

You groaned, dragging the washcloth back over your face with a muttered, “Kill me.”

Gideon chuckled, the sound soft, warm. “I didn’t mean to interrupt anything.”

You peered at him from behind the door. “Were you hoping I wouldn’t be home?”

He hesitated. “...Maybe a little?”

The honesty surprised you.

You blinked at him, your hand still gripping the door. “You wanna come in?” you asked, more on instinct than intention.

Gideon’s brows lifted slightly, surprised, but then he nodded with a small, almost shy smile. “Sure.”

You stepped back, letting him in, silently cursing yourself for not at least changing shirts or scrubbing the coconut oil from your hair more thoroughly. He stepped over the threshold like he was entering a museum—careful, glancing around, his hands awkward at his sides.

The scent of strawberries and drugstore skin care hung in the air. You quickly tossed the damp washcloth toward the kitchen sink and tried to act like everything was totally normal.

He stood near the couch, glancing around your living room, and then down at his shoes. As you stood there in the quiet, your eyes drifted over to the TV still playing in the background. Glee was in full swing—one of the more dramatic episodes. Quinn and Santana were mid-argument in the hallway, voices sharp before Santana shoved Quinn against the lockers. The slap came a second later, and you made a small oof sound under your breath despite having seen this particular episode over a dozen times.

Gideon looked too, brows raising. “Are they… fighting?”

“Yep,” you said, popping the ‘p.’ “It’s a whole thing. Cheating. Jealousy. Teenage rage.”

He nodded slowly. “Intense.”

You turned toward him, arms crossing lightly. “You wanna stay? See how it plays out?”

His head tilted like he was pretending to think about it, but the answer was already written across his face. “Yeah,” he said with a half-smile. “Yeah, I’ll stay.”

You plopped back down on the couch, patting the seat beside you without much thought. He hesitated only a second before sitting, careful to leave just enough space between you.

Neither of you said much else as the episode rolled on—Quinn stalking off in tears, Santana fuming, dramatic music swelling in the background. But somehow, it wasn’t awkward. Not even a little.

+++

The potatoes bubbled on the stove, steam curling into the kitchen air as you stood with your arms crossed, staring into the pot like it might give you answers. Your parents were setting the table behind you—your mom humming, your dad quietly moving plates into place with the kind of efficiency only gained through years of routine. The smell of garlic and rosemary hung low and warm in the air, wrapping around you like a wool blanket.

Then came the doorbell.

You didn’t move, but your father muttered, “I got it,” and padded to the front door in his socks.

Muffled voices followed—your dad’s low and amused, someone else’s higher, almost nervous. You turned the stove down slightly and glanced toward the hallway, just as footsteps approached.

“Someone’s here for you,” your dad called, just before Gideon came around the corner.

He stood there, holding a small bouquet of fresh wildflowers—half-wrapped in brown paper, like he’d gone to the local market instead of some chain florist. His chestnut locks were a little messy, like he’d run his hands through them one too many times before working up the courage to knock. He smiled, tentative but sure, the kind of look that made your stomach flutter just a little.

“Hi,” he said. “I was wondering if you’d want to go to dinner with me?”

You blinked, eyes darting to the bouquet and then back to him. Your mom’s eyes were practically glowing as she peeked out from the dining room, doing a terrible job of pretending she wasn’t eavesdropping.

You wiped your hands on a towel and nodded slowly, heat rising to your cheeks. “Yeah. Let me grab a sweater and shoes.”

Your mother’s smirk was palpable as you passed her—she offered no words, just a look that said I told you so without ever needing to speak.

A few minutes later, you stepped outside and followed Gideon to his truck. He opened the passenger door for you like a perfect gentleman, waiting until you were inside before closing it carefully. You settled in, placing the flowers gently on your lap.

As he got in and buckled his seatbelt, you glanced sideways at him. “My mom didn’t put you up to this, right?”

He frowned, starting the engine. “No... Should she have?”

“She does that sometimes,” you muttered, smiling despite yourself. “You’d be surprised.”

He glanced at you, a small, sideways grin playing on his lips. “Considering you’re a catch, I can see why she would.”

You laughed, caught off guard. “That was smooth.”

“I practiced it in the mirror,” he teased, pulling away from the curb.

You didn’t even bother hiding your smile as the two of you drove off into the early evening light, the bouquet cradled in your hands and something lighter than air settling in your chest.

[ariseur]

hey!!! ive been reading your sephiroth fanfics recently and it has been such an intricate work of art i genuinely feel the emotion and love put into it, your writing is just perfect in terms of how you write his character! i was wondering if i could request a seph x reader maybe during or post advent children and is really angsty with some fluff regarding his return??? it's vague (sorry😭) but i know if you did take up on it youd do fantastic!! 💖🫶🏻

liberabo volucres 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

sephiroth (ffvii) x reader

┊ ˚➶ notes ｡˚ 🎼

omg you are literally so sweet!!!! thank you so much for this request, although i don’t think i did it justice �� i wasnt quite sure how to go about this considering after advent children, the remnants of seph faded into the lifestream (i think?) so it’s more angsty with lots of mentions of kadaj, but i hope you like it either way!! i’m glad you enjoy my sephiroth fics and don’t hesitate to send more asks!! love this one 💕

┊ ˚➶ warnings ｡˚ 🎼

mentions of kadaj and remnants of seph, written in a yearning type of way where you still have a hole in your heart left from sephiroth, don’t ask where you came from at the beginning!! just enjoy it 😭, intended lowercase, mentions of kissing kadaj’s forehead, lmk if i missed anything!!

┊ ˚➶ word count ｡˚ 🎼

1327 words, 7173 characters

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

“cloud,” your voice only a faint whisper as you called out to the blond, “what did you do?” he lifted his head, his skin glossier with the droplets of rain falling on his face. his eyes widened at the sight of you, chest still rising and lowering rapidly as he recovered from his battle with sephiroth. how foreign that name felt on your tongue, now.

you got up from your hiding spot beyond the debris, knees aching from how long you were crouched as your feet slammed against the flat surface of the floor. you watched as your kadaj’s catlike slits for pupils— pupils that constantly reminded you that he was still apart of sephiroth, despite his role as being only a remnant of your lover— flickered towards you with whatever energy he had left. the corner of kadaj’s lips quirked upwards ever the slightest as you rushed over him, cloud moving out of your way as he stood up.

cloud’s words, albeit firm, lay dormant in your brain, “he was going to kill me—kill us all.” and even with his sharp tone, you didn’t pay him any mind. the only thing you could focus on was kadaj’s eyes trained on yours, scoffing as he rasped out, “such— a drama.. queen.” you softly shushed him, watching as his eyes became emptier by the minute. your throat stung as a choked sob threatened to escape its enclosure behind your uvula. kadaj lifted his hand only for you to grasp it, moist leather clutched in your palm as you placed it back to his chest. he intertwined your fingers, a wince leaving his lips as you held his head up.

it took everything not to look away from him. his hair, his eyes, even the way he smelled, reminded you of sephiroth. sometimes, you wish it had been different. you wish you would’ve been there when it had happened, and even now, your memory’s fuzzy of the events. all you remember was the day sephiroth left you, and you haven’t stop thinking about him since. you wished he had come to you, and apart of you was angry. maybe you were angry that he left you with no word, or maybe angry that instead of opening up to you, he decides to burn a village down in his spiral, or maybe you weren’t angry at all.

you paused, taking another look at kadaj’s furrowed eyebrows and his lidded eyes. you wonder if this is how sephiroth felt upon his notice of who he really was— what he really was. he was only in his twenties when it happened, you couldn’t have imagined how he felt. you remembered; his friends, gone and turned against shinra, and with all the pressure on him about the cover-up, you thought that maybe it wasn’t entirely his fault. you realized now, that you can’t get what you want from this world without taking it yourself. saying please didn’t scratch the itch in the back of your throat the way that anger did, and you assumed sephiroth felt the same.

clasping kadaj’s hand, he let out a weak sigh. you let your hand, although shaky and so weak that you can’t make a fist, card a piece of his hair out his face; your heart ached at your hands in his silver hair, mind racing back to when you’d brush sephiroth’s hair for him. a true honor, you’d always call it.

the way kadaj’s eyes widened and his ears perked up made you pause, like he was listening for something. even with cloud’s tense presence behind you, you refused to let go of the part of sephiroth, your part of sephiroth. the only part you had of him left. you couldn’t be angry at cloud. he was only doing what he thought was best— and in the end, maybe it was for the best, you thought. you couldn’t even be angry at yourself, your mind only clouded with grief as your sniffles and teary sighs filled the air.

the sound of kadaj’s arm moving, leather rubbing against itself, interrupted your soft cries as he lifted his hand up to the sky. a soft whisper of, “mother—?” left his lips.

your hand snaked up and you rubbed your thumb against his cheek, watching as he turned his head towards you slowly. a teary sound left your lips, you weren’t even sure if it was a sob or a laugh. but you leaned down, pressing one last kiss to his forehead as his eyelashes fluttered, just the way sephiroth’s did when you’d lay with him in the morning where golden rays would seep through the curtains and shine onto your beloved.

all good things must come to an end, you realized, as you watched the only physical evidence that sephiroth had coexisted with you fade into the lifestream, his arm fading into reduced crystallized mako. you closed your eyes, shoulders heaving as you tried stifling your thick cries; after all, cloud was still behind you. you held onto kadaj’s hand until it was no more, his body being lifted up and vanishing although you couldn’t bear to watch it. and you didn’t open your eyes, not for a long while, in hopes that maybe you’d be back in the comfort of your home as you heard heavy footsteps trail behind you to the kitchen, sephiroth’s content face across from yours at the dinner table. and you didn’t open your eyes until you heard a low hum, beyond the loud sounds of the rain hitting the concrete, beyond your own shaking breaths. this couldn’t have been cloud, you thought. your head lifted up and squinted so as to not get any rain in your eyes.

and there he was— or more so a faded version of him. even in the rain, you couldn’t help but gawk at him in awe, his hair flowing so gracefully even in the humidity of the rain. even if you were dreaming, you’d wish you would never wake in hopes of spending one last minute with the one you held dearest to your heart. one last moment with sephiroth and you’d feel like you’d finally be complete.

his eyes, still sleek and catlike how you always remembered, almost look amused. he held a smile at you, his head cocking at the sight. you didn’t want to think of the possibility that this was just a hallucination of your grief. this was more than that. sephiroth was more than that.

he gave you a nod, a nod of which you didn’t understand. ever so esoteric, you thought. the way he always was after nibelheim. you sat back on your haunches, your knees still against the wet, cold floor— taking one last look at sephiroth before he turned around. his head tipped back, fingers twitching as he let himself face the sky, until he finally let himself go and faded away as well.

your lip trembled, a teary laugh releasing itself from your throat until cloud put a soft, awkward hand on your shoulder. head turning to face him, your eyes met his. you realized now that cloud did what was best, and you couldn’t possibly blame him for that.

he cleared his throat, almost cautiously as if you’d snap at him for interrupting the silence, “we have to go. i’m sure tifa’s waiting for us.”

you sniffled, wiping your eyes from both the rain and the tears that littered your cheeks. looking back down at your lap, once where kadaj laid, you were met with emptiness. closing your eyes once more, you inhaled and let the air fill your lungs. the first deep breath of air that you’ve taken in what feels like years, one that felt fresher— almost bittersweet. and when you turned back to cloud, you gave him a firm nod.

the urge to be changed is not metamorphosis, you realized. you can’t be changed without making a change of your own.

[primavras]

(davika hoorne, thirty-two, cis woman, she/her) you do not know me but rest assured i know you, MISS ARAYA EVERLEY. you are the CHILD OF THE ELDEST SON OF LORD EVERLEY. you maybe be known for your CONSCIENTIOUSNESS but it is only a mask for the true nature of your ALOOF ways. however, i am not here to spread slander on the queen’s jewels, though i suspect you are her FLOWER AGATE. the ton says your name reminds them of LEAVING BEHIND A TOKEN OF ILL WILL, THE RAW INSTINCT TO SURVIVE, A TASK TOO DIFFICULT TO BARE, HEAD RAISED IN DEFIANCE. how scandalous! you have been warned, dear reader, that i will prove if this is true and share every last detail.

GENERAL

tba

BACKGROUND death tw, illness tw

☾ you’re the first born, your name paving your way to greatness and yet your bones are too fragile, breaking under the weight of expectations and a not so certain fate. 

you’re the first born, your name paving your way to greatness and yet your bones are too fragile, breaking under the weight of expectations and a not so certain fate. 

when araya opened her eyes to the world no one expected her to live. she was weak, a word only reserved for outsiders but at least she barely cried at all.

her childhood floats in a fog, alone. muted and fuzzy. most of her time was spent in bed, her sickness treated as an inconvenience to her duties, the expectations still the same.. her father only ever spoke to her when he asked her about her studies, his eyes mostly clouded by disappointment. and sometimes she’d believe that it’d begun since her birth.

the doctors called it a miracle when her health improved, however she considered it a result of determination and perhaps the answer to her prayers. she’s determined to prove that her birth wasn’t sheer luck but that she was born lucky. 

yet, being tied by her illness somehow rendered her as odd. when speaking to others her age she doesn’t know what to say, sharing the same language of cruelty as her father did. she’s blunt, insensitive and sometimes cruel but she doesn’t know better. she’s alone again.

as she becomes older and wiser, she learns how to use her words, twist them to her advantage while keeping a facade made out of stone. she’s known to be detached, calculated but she’s also known for her abilities, her intelligence and perhaps that’s what made her fit to be the one leading the household one day. 

it was a cruel sort of irony, how her father, a man she had feared so deeply, should meet his end through something as unremarkable as an accident. and only in this moment, araya realized how weak of a man he was. he was gone and she didn’t know if she was meant to cry at all. all she knew was that perhaps her suffering meant something. that she had to suffer for all of this, so she could be the one to inherit everything.

yet even in death, her father found a way to disappoint her, leaving his family not with a legacy of honour or comfort, but burdened with nothing but the heavy weight of debt. grief, she could have borne easily, it was the betrayal that festered. the realization that she endured all of this for nothing. and then her grandfather announced that he’d alter the succession, she found herself in despair

(secret reveal)

araya is still trying to do everything to prove her grandfather that she’s worthy, but she knows she can’t solely rely on that. right now, she’s trying to keep them afloat by blackmailing other nobles for money. not even her family knowing about it or the debt they were left with.

WANTED CONNECTIONS

TBA

HEADCANONS TBA

[hummingbird24220]

Chapter Forty Six: Soft Kitty, Chaos City

You emerged from the bath a new beast.

Fresh. Fluffy. Dangerously soft. Tail high. Fur gleaming. Strut fully engaged.

Every step was like a soft-focus shampoo commercial. The sun caught your fur. Wind blew through your tail. You glowed.

You were unknowingly wielding the most powerful weapon the Sunny had seen yet:

Sanji had used Nami’s expensive shampoo on you.

You trotted across the deck with a lazy sway, flopping into your usual sunny spot without a care in the world.

And that’s when it started.

Luffy was the first to pounce.

He launched himself across the deck and landed right next to you, arms outstretched.

“YOU’RE SO FLUFFYYYYY!!” he yelled, diving straight into your belly fluff.

You squeaked, flailed, and tried to roll away, but he clung like a very affectionate barnacle.

“You smell like oranges and money,” he murmured into your neck.

“…Yeah, I feel rich.”

Zoro walked by. Stopped. Backed up. Squinted.

“…Why do you look like a pillow with legs?”

You flicked your tail smugly. “Because I’m well-conditioned.”

He raised a brow. Crossed his arms. And—hesitantly—reached down and patted your head once.

Once.

Then blinked. Stared at his hand.

“…That’s not normal.”

You batted your lashes. “Want another pat?”

He fled.

Chopper came next.

He squealed.

He cried.

He tried to bury his face in your tail and got overwhelmed by softness.

“You feel like cloud medicine!” he gasped.

You considered charging him a cuddle fee.

Robin, composed as ever, gently stroked behind your ears once and nodded in approval.

“Impressive coat. You’re like a luxury beast.”

“Only the finest,” you purred.

Then came Nami.

Sniff. Pause. Slow, terrifying turn.

“…Why do you smell like my shampoo.”

Sanji, who’d been proudly observing from the kitchen doorway, tried to flee.

She grabbed him by the collar mid-step.

“That bottle costs more than your LIFE, Sanji.”

“I—it was for a good cause!!” he yelped. “She smelled like rotting fish! She fell in the ocean!”

You waved. “Hi. Worth it.”

Later, after Nami had exacted her revenge (he’s banned from oranges for a week), the crew sat around you in a circle, all petting a different part of you like you were a sacred festival animal.

Luffy was curled up against your back. Chopper was brushing your tail. Zoro was pretending not to pet your head. Sanji was fluffing up your cheeks. Nami was muttering about “at least get your own bottle.” Robin was taking notes. Brook was composing a lullaby titled “So Soft, So Sinful.” Franky was planning you a custom fur dryer.

And you?

You lay sprawled in the middle, purring like a queen on her throne.

“...This,” you murmured, “is the life.”

--

The deck was quiet.

The crew had turned in for the night, tucked into their hammocks and cabins. Only the soft creak of wood and the gentle hush of waves filled the silence.

And you, in your freshly fluffed glory, had padded out barefoot and fuzzy, ears perked, tail swaying gently.

You didn’t know where you were going. You just followed the smell.

Wine.

And him.

Sanji was sitting near the railing, a bottle already opened, two glasses half-filled beside him. He was in his unbuttoned shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbows, tie loose. Hair soft, falling into his eyes as he stared out at the stars.

He looked warm. Comfortable. Peaceful.

Your paws barely made a sound as you dropped beside him, curling up cross-legged, fur puffed and tail slowly wrapping around your knees.

“Didn’t know cats liked wine,” he murmured, without looking at you.

“Didn’t know chefs waited for company.”

He smirked.

Without a word, he slid one of the glasses your way.

You took it delicately. Sniffed.

“Smells expensive.”

“Stole it off a merchant two islands ago.”

“…Nice.”

You both sipped. Quiet.

The wine was dark, deep, rich—like berries soaked in secrets. It warmed your chest and made your ears twitch.

Sanji glanced at you, his voice soft. “Still soft, huh?”

You nodded.

He reached out, slow and easy, and ran his hand down the curve of your back, fingers sinking into the fluff between your shoulder blades.

You didn’t stop him.

You didn’t purr, either.

(You totally purred.)

“You’ll never admit it,” he said, “but you love this.”

You sipped your wine. “No idea what you’re talking about.”

He leaned a little closer. “And me?”

You froze.

Just a second.

Your tail flicked.

“...Maybe,” you muttered. “Like. Cat love. Not real love.”

“‘Course not,” he replied smoothly, leaning back again. “I’m way too leggy for your taste.”

You didn’t laugh. Didn’t tease. Just looked at him over the rim of your glass, tail tip twitching.

Because maybe—just maybe—he was your favorite.

And not in a “you feed me” kind of way.

In a “when you talk softly I forget how sharp I am” kind of way.

“I might love you the most,” you whispered, so quiet it barely escaped your throat.

Sanji looked over.

“I know,” he said, just as quiet.

And neither of you said another word for a long, long time.

--

There was something about Sanji.

It wasn’t the flirting—though that was ever-present, as reliable as sunrise and sea spray. It wasn’t even the cooking, though you’d gladly sell your soul for his pasta again.

No, it was something else.

It was the way he existed. Warm. Easy. Effortless.

Even when he wasn’t trying.

Especially when he wasn’t trying.

You’d told yourself it was a cat thing.

You were drawn to warmth. To softness. To safety.

But lately, even when he wasn’t looking at you… your body just drifted.

Like gravity was a suggestion, and he was the center of your tiny, unspoken solar system.

You found yourself wandering into the galley more often. Not to steal food (okay, maybe a little). But just to be near him.

He could be chopping vegetables, humming softly.

And you’d just… curl up nearby. On the counter. On the floor. Tucked into the nook beside the pantry.

Just to be close.

He never said a word about it.

Never questioned it.

Sometimes he’d glance over, a flicker of a smile playing on his lips, and pass you a bite of whatever he was making.

Today, he wasn’t even in his usual flirty mood.

No wink. No “mademoiselle.” Just Sanji.

Rolled-up sleeves. Slight frown. Lost in thought as he stirred something slow and simmering on the stove.

And still—

You found yourself beside him. Sitting on the floor, knees up, arms wrapped around them, chin resting between them as you watched him work.

He glanced down, brow raised.

“…You okay?”

You nodded.

He turned back to the pot. “You’ve been following me like a shadow lately.”

“I’m just cold.”

“It’s warm on the deck.”

“You’re warmer.”

He paused.

Something flickered in his eyes.

And then he reached down, absently, and ran a hand through your hair. Not teasing. Not playful. Just gentle.

You leaned into it without thinking, tail curling around your ankle.

He didn’t say anything else.

Didn’t ask for more. Didn’t tease.

Just let you be.

Let you stay close. Let you cling to something quiet and unspoken.

And even as the room filled with the scent of simmering wine and spices, all you could smell was him.

And even when he wasn’t trying—especially when he wasn’t trying—you stayed.

Because even if you didn’t say it yet…

You knew.

He had something you couldn’t help but love.

--

You were in distress.

You didn’t look like you were in distress. You were sprawled on the deck in a very sunny spot, tail lazily flicking, cheeks pressed to the warm wood, soaking in the rays like any perfectly content feline.

But inside?

Absolute emotional chaos.

Your little cat brain was malfunctioning. Overheating. Stuttering on loops of “wow, hot” and “oh no, pretty.”

Because the crew? Was too damn attractive.

Zoro walked by shirtless, muscles glistening, jaw set, sweat rolling down his chest like some kind of forbidden waterfall of stoicism.

You choked on your own spit.

Sanji came out of the galley wiping his hands on a towel, sleeves rolled up, tie loose, a faint little smile on his lips as he tasted a spoon of sauce like it was poetry.

Your tail thumped against the deck twice in betrayal.

Luffy laughed at something dumb and you glanced over just in time to see him with his head thrown back, sun hitting him just right, and his dimples showing.

Your heart made a squeaky toy noise.

Then Robin stepped onto the deck, hair fluttering in the breeze, book tucked under one arm like a casual goddess.

You nearly melted into a puddle.

Nami followed with her glasses on, purse slung over her shoulder, eyes gleaming with that I-just-swindled-someone sparkle.

You actually had to lay down again.

“Everyone’s so… beautiful,” you mumbled into the deck. “Too powerful. Too symmetrical. Too emotionally complex.”

Chopper trotted over and blinked down at you. “Are you having an episode?”

You stared up at him. “Have you seen our crew?! I’m surrounded by supermodels. Supermodels with swords. Or maps. Or incredibly strong thighs!”

Usopp joined. “I mean, we are a pretty iconic bunch.”

“I’m just a fluffy criminal with a stealing addiction and a tail that twitches when I lie!” you wailed. “How am I supposed to focus on ANYTHING when Zoro’s out here doing push-ups like a sculpted sin statue?!”

From across the deck: Zoro: “...What?”

Sanji passed by with a plate of cookies. “You called?”

You shrieked. Stole a cookie. And dove over the railing like the dramatic idiot you were (thankfully not into the ocean this time).

Later, curled up in a pile of laundry, you grumbled into a towel.

“I can’t even figure out who I like the most. I’m malfunctioning.”

Nami poked her head in. “If it helps, we all think you’re the cutest.”

You flailed.

Robin appeared behind her. “And the most chaotic.”

You shrieked again and buried your head under a pile of pants.

Too much beauty. Too many crushes. Not enough braincells.

Your cat brain was not built for this.

[nobodygetsza]

┆𝖥𝖮𝖱𝖬𝖠𝖳･｡ﾟ — series

┆𝖲𝖴𝖬𝖬𝖠𝖱𝖸･｡ﾟ — a background of how Araya met Armando and how she found out she was pregnant with their daughter.

┆𝖶𝖮𝖱𝖣 𝖢𝖮𝖴𝖭𝖳･｡ﾟ — 2,070

┆𝖶𝖠𝖱𝖭𝖨𝖭𝖦𝖲･｡ﾟ — swearing, smut, oral sex ( female receiving ), pregnancy and giving birth.

┆𝖭𝖮𝖳𝖤𝖲･｡ﾟ — if you wanna be tagged just leave a comment ♡.

┆𝖳𝖠𝖦𝖫𝖨𝖲𝖳･｡ﾟ — @violetmuses

Chapter 0⛓️: How The Queen Met Her King

📍TIJUANA, MEXICO📍

╭ 4 Years Ago, 2016 ╯

THE MUSIC ECHOED off the walls of the nightclub as the dance floor was filled with people from shoulder to shoulder. Araya didn’t have a care in the world as she danced with her best friend Desiree with a bottle of Corona in her hand. Both women were here on a little vacation together. They needed this getaway from the bullshit they had going back home. Especially Araya.

From across the establishment, a pair of dark mischievous eyes stared at the young woman. Slowly trailing from her head to her full lips, before lingering on her exposed breasts and finally on the curvature of her hips. Armando became mesmerized watching the voluptuous woman wine her waist to the beat of the current song. The two women attracted a group of people and a young man came up behind Araya and wrapped an arm around her body. Seeing this Armando’s blood started to boil, getting higher and higher by the second.

Downing the remaining D’usse Cognac in his glass Armando stared at them as he stood up and walked to where they were. Armando wanted her. Something within him made him crave her body and want to hear her moan beneath him. He reached out, tapping the guy on the shoulder. The young man turned around to protest but the look Armando gave him made him second guess.

The music played before switching to a slower song making Armando grab Araya by the hips. Araya presumed it was the gentleman who had her by the waist before and continued to buck and whine her waist. Armando held her hips pressing her body against his as he moved his hips in sync with hers. His hand rested on her lower stomach while the other trailed up her torso, past her full breasts to her neck, and gave it a light squeeze. As the woman let out a soft moan, the air around them grew thicker and clouded with desire.

“¿Quieres poner en práctica estos movimientos?” Armando whispered in her ear, running his bottom lip along the shell of her earlobe. ( “Do you want to put these moves to use?” )

An instant heat rushes through Araya’s body straight to her panties, soaking them. Who could have a voice so soft yet husky? Araya turned in the man’s embrace and came face to face with the most handsome and scrumptious human being she had ever seen. Standing at 5 '11, with a killer body, chiseled features, a beard she wanted to moisturize, and a smile that god had created to make a woman’s panties drop to the floor, Armando stared at Araya with lust clouding his dark brown eyes. She couldn’t believe her eyes and for a minute she thought her mind was playing tricks on her.

“¿Cómo te llamarás, cariño?” Araya purred in his ear, running her right hand from around his neck, down his muscular chest before settling on his waist. ( “What might your name be, sweetheart?” )

“Armando. ¿Cómo te llamas hermosa?” He replied, snaking his hand around Araya’s waist to settle on the cleft of her ass, right under the cheek, and gripped it. ( “Armando. What’s your name beautiful?” )

“¿Cómo sé que puedo confiar en ti?” The young woman questioned, staring at Armando as she tugged her bottom lip between her teeth as the sexual tension grew. ( “How do I know I can trust you?” )

Armando smirked before leaning down her ear and whispering in English, “I wouldn’t have told you mine if I didn't trust you. So what do you say, cariña?”

As he leaned back and stared down at Araya he could see the wheels turning rapidly in her mind. He made her mind go fuzzy or maybe it was the drinks she consumed. All Araya knew was that this man was about to eat this sweet punani from the front to the back. Smirking, Araya slid her arms back around Armando’s neck and smiled.

“Marca el camino, Armando.” She whispered before turning around and walked away. ( “Lead the way, Armando.” )

Armando couldn’t help but look down at the way Araya’s ass switched from left to right as she walked. He wanted to reach out and smack it but told himself to wait. The man chuckled before following Araya outside of the building where his car was parked. A sleek black Mercedes-AMG SL63 Roadster. Araya was in awe and also impressed.

Loud thumping echoed through Armando’s apartment as the pair stumbled inside. Their harmonized moans and groans bounced off the walls as they were entangled in a heated kiss; their tongues fighting each other. One by one an item of clothing came off as they tripped over the other's feet laughing. It must’ve been the liquor coursing through their veins. Or maybe the sexual attraction.

Araya moaned, spreading her legs as Armando traced his fingers along her clit, coating them in her sweet juices. He stuck them in his mouth before easing them into her. Instantly Araya’s walls tightened around those wet digits making her moan, throwing her head back. Armando leaned down, taking the woman’s clit into his mouth, sucking on it. She thought he had an outstanding mouth.

“Eso se siente tan bien.” The young woman moaned, placing her hand on the back of his head. ( “That feels so good.” )

Her legs shook, a signal that she was about to have an earth-shattering orgasm. Something she hasn’t experienced since her teen years. Araya could feel his circle beard scratching against her sensitive pussy giving her that extra stimulation she needed. With a loud gasp, Araya’s legs shut around Armando’s head as the snap within her broke. Armando overstimulated her even more by removing his fingers and replacing them with his tongue.

“Tu coño sabe tan bien.” Armando groaned, pulling away to watch her body shake. ( “Your pussy tastes so good.” )

Armando’s duck was hard as a rock as he shifted Araya’s legs in the air, pushing her knees to the bed. The stretch Araya felt made her eyes roll to the back of her head as he slid inside of her wet tight walls. Araya moaned, holding the back of her knees as the man above her started taking her to Pound Town.

“Shit, it’s so good.” Araya moaned, holding onto Armando’s wrist that rested on her thigh.

“You feel so good, beautiful. So tight.” Armando whispered in Araya’s ear, softly nibbling her earlobe. He immediately felt Araya clench around him.

She always loved a man with a nice deep husky voice and damn it I think she found one. Araya wrapped her arms around Armando’s shoulders from underneath scratching her nails down his back. He groaned, pounding her spot again and again. Tears brimmed Araya’s eyes from the intense pleasure and this didn’t go unnoticed by Armando. Armando smiled down at the woman and rubbed her clit with his thumb.

Araya was so dazed in pleasure so much that she could feel the knot within her stomach beginning to tighten. “Oh yes! Right there!” The overstimulation of his rough finger and the pounding made Araya’s eyes roll to the back of her head.

Her fingers gripped the sheets, almost pulling them off the bed as her moans bounced off the apartment walls. “No voy a durar mucho. Te sientes demasiado bien.” Armando could feel his body heat up and his balls clench.

“¡Oh dios mío, sí!” Araya cried out as her orgasm smacked her like a semi-truck on the street. ( “Oh my god, yes!” )

The feeling of Araya’s pussy clamping down on his cock made him thrust in her a few more times before coating her walls with his cum. Armando stared at where they met as he slowly pulled out of her seeing both of their creamy essence mixed. He could stare at cum coated pussy all day. As he fell beside her heavily breathing he noticed Araya’s legs shaking and knew he accomplished what he planned to do.

Armando also knew that he had to keep her around; he had to keep her. With a pussy as good as hers he couldn’t let her go that easily.

📍MIAMI, FLORIDA📍

╭ 3 Years After, 2019 ╯

After Armando and Araya slept together in Tijuana he knew he wanted her so they exchanged numbers and kept in contact. Whenever they were in the same area they met up and had sex with each other and it was incredible every time. Armando became so comfortable around her that he told her what he did for a living. Of course, Araya wasn’t phased seeing as she dabbled in the same profession as he did. Everything was going well; they’d bring justice to those who needed it until she found out she was pregnant.

Araya sat on the toilet staring at the pregnancy test in her hand. This couldn’t be right, can it? The test couldn’t be right. She grabbed another one off the counter and peed on it. After waiting five minutes the same result came up.

Pregnant +

A knock on the bathroom door made Araya look up out of her thoughts. Her best friend Desiree was with her because she called her in a panicked state.

“What do the results say?” Desiree asked from outside the door.

Araya opened the door and showed the sticks to her. “Hold shit bitch you’re going to be a mom!”

“Why are you so happy? What if Armando’s pissed off?” Araya responded, shaking her head.

“Girl, first of all, relax. Armando has feelings for you, deeply. Talk to him.” Her best friend consoled, seeing Araya’s nervous face.

“We haven’t even talked about having kids.” Araya sighed, running her hands through her hair in frustration.

“Well, you two fuck like rabbits whenever you’re around each other,” Desiree responded, shrugging her shoulders. “It was bound to happen since you guys don’t use condoms either.”

“Shut up,” Araya said, rolling her eyes.

Araya knew she was going to have to talk with Armando eventually so why not today right? Grabbing her phone she sent him a text saying they needed to talk, to come to her apartment and he responded with an okay. When Armando arrived Desiree left to give them privacy. Nervousness ran through Araya’s veins as she and the father of her unborn child sat in the kitchen.

“¿Qué pasa?” Armando asked, crossing his arms in front of her chest. ( “What’s wrong?” )

Araya sighed before answering, “I’m pregnant and I don’t know what to do.” She looked up and stared into his eyes.

Different emotions ran through his mind as he tried to grasp the concept of what Araya just said. “You know what this means right?”

“What?” She asked, waiting for an answer.

“No one can know and you know that you won’t be able to get back out there,” Armando answered, referring to going on missions with him and her friends.

“So you’re not upset? You don’t want me to get an abortion?” Araya questioned, feeling uneasy. “Although it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had one.”

“No, although considering the circumstances.” He responded, smiling at her. Armando got up and went over to Araya and pulled her into a hug.

From that moment on Araya knew that Armando was her safe place.

Those thirty-seven weeks of pregnancy for Araya was a damn roller coaster. Her emotions were up, down, and looping around. She craved weird things like anchovies and chocolate milk, Oreos, and hot sauce. Armando bought her anything she wanted. He went to every appointment and didn’t miss one.

Whenever she was in pain he’d be there to help her through it. In the hospital room, Araya pushed as her life depended on it. Whoever said labor is easy she wants to shoot them in the face because that was a damn lie. She wanted to strangle Armando as he whispered sweet things in her ear. Nurses laughed when Araya told him to shut up or she was going to suffocate him with a pillow. After ten hours in labor and pushing their baby girl Auraina Maeve Aretas was born at 6:27 PM.

As Armando held his daughter he fell in love with her immediately. He knew that he’d kill anyone that would make that little girl upset or cry. Also, he knew the news of this couldn’t get out to the streets for the safety of Auraina and Araya.

[mochinon-yah]

How would you describe your friend's art/writing? (E.g.: scenario, food, memory, etc.)

OMGGG ANON THANK YOUUU LET ME SMOOCH U RNNN <3333

But i'm gonna twist the question a bit since i haven't read everyone's work so yeah 🥹 i'm gonna describe the way they talk or how they 'feel' like to me lolll

@beloved-brynn: (<- my dear sweet hallow) whenever brynn is talking about something, it could either be the most mindblowing thing ever or the funniest thing ever 😭 i love her sm (platonically) since she's my first ever mutual and the first ever person to just... kinda welcome me to tumblr (i can hesr her in the distance saying smth smth abt i traumatized her despite the warm welcome- /silly) also she's good at giving advices! She's somebody who would cofmort you in an objective but warm way while also try to joke around so you won't feel like you're being nagged at (good grief, i cried more while she did that lol) ALSO A SIMP FOR DIMITRIII ‼️‼️

@meimeimeirin: tbh rin's writing or way of speaking is so so uniquely her that even if she tried to mask it up, i could guess that it's her 😆 she's an amazing mutual that i have no clue how the heck did we even be friends and be close like this??? Is it the same thing like how me and brynn get close- i gave you a drawing- anyway, she has a very elegant way of doing things, and especially when she starts to ramble or write about something that she loves! It's always so lovely reading her posts <3 btw rin, keep a chicken head with you always, yeah? 😋

@leftdestiny-posts: NOW THIS IS AN ENIGMA BECAUSE I HAVE NO CLUE HOW DID WE ACTUALLY BECOME MOOTS????? Shiro, did u just somehow in someway adopt me- 😭 but anywayyyy, shiro's way of talking is so so so soft and cute and warm and it makes me wonder how the heck did they mask their craziness so good like that- /smacked sorry sorry, enough jokes, what i meant to say is that shiro is such a down to earth person, and honestly i could see them go "wah, the clouds are really pretty today~ the flowers too~~" their writing or talking style has that vibe to me! It's so warm and fuzzy to me 🫠 i feel so comfy with themm 💗💗

@a-bookworms-teashop: i took a liking to one of her series and ever since then, i am a fan of her works!! I like to leave comments and just yk... support her works! Suddenly, bam! She dm'ed me or smth and we just kinda talk 😆 i love when she goes to ramble about her works because it shows how much love and effort she pours into each and every one of them!!! Im still waiting for an update to that series hiks but in any case, her other works sre also a masterpiece! Example? The yandere ceo one! It's so interesting and honestly bae, i would read every chapters 😻 i mean i already did, but eh YEAH READ EM GUYS!!!

@jessamine-rose: bae jess, ur works are amazing pookie, i once read one of ur work before eventually falling in love with how u write but i forgot which one was it... (it was a long time ago) was it abt capitano...? I'M SORRY I FORGOT HDBSHSJSJ 😭😭😭 but anyway, jess has the mom vibe that it always made me think of those asian moms (I'M ASIAN- THE TRAUMA IS THERE- /silly) who would hit their kids with sandals and be "i told you don't be like that!" >:o also her way of speaking and the amount of kaomojis she used is so so her that i would just imagine her every time i see one of those kaomojis 😆💗 please keep using em, i love ittt <333

@harmonysanreads: i simp for u. Yes, you read that right, my friends... I SIMP FOR HARMYYYY (shoo shoo eun- /silly) 😻💗 harmy has a very distinctive vibe and personality despite being similar to rinrin, and uhh how do i describe it...? It's like talking with a mom figure (no harm, i don't see u as a mom figure-) who knows you so well!! Her way of talking is so elegant, but it's not the warm-like elegant! It's like seeing a queen (?) and you can't help but to be mesmerized by her mannerisms! I also love the way she can form her words, they're always so thoughtful and really straightforward in a way lolll (she's my argue buddy too- anyway prince hirang 👎 /silly)

@navxry: NAVI ACTS LIKE THE MOM FRIEND!! Not really the mom mom friend, but navi is our server mom 💗 they take care of us and sometimes pop in and say either the most horrendous down bad thing ever for female game characters (while im like "oh yeah so true lmao" but i don't usually pop in and say that) or they'll help us around the server because apparently most some of us are not pretty... tech-savvy (me included HAHAHHA) navi is such a mood sometimes and i absolutely love them for ittt 🫶 u go girl (/gn) be as silly as you wsnt for your fics, or in other words, kill em all- *cough* i mean what

@calxlu: a fellow infp who really loves albedo 😆 i love when one time i made a bedo art for them and they reblogged it so many times,,, it made me super happy and super proud that the art made them that happy 💗 anyway, vivi talks similarly like me methinks but like ummm how do i say it? Vivi is like cuter...???? IDKK HAHAHAJDJ- um, moving on 😆 i love it when vivi describes or tell smth because it could either be the most cutest thing ever or the funniest thing ever (i still remember that grandma comment pls 😭) anywayyy i hope your life has been less stressful!!! Also will be hoping that ppl won't bother you especially when you don't want to get bothered 🫂

@teabutmakeitazure: ZURIII MY BELOVED 🙌 HELLO HI <333 muach muach i hope you're doing well when you read this post /gen /pos !!! When zuri comes in the server and say smth, i will always imagine someone wesring a glasses, talking in such a monotone voice but tries to appear caring and sweet because YES they are actually really sweet and very much loveable and smoochable <3 it's just how you 'feel' like to me, so don't mind em too much loll 😆💗 also, i see that zuri and speckled can match each other vibe so well and it makes me think that they'll be such a great and cute duo together sbsnsjkssk

@vennnnn-diagram: VENNNNN OMG MY PARTNER IN CRIME 😻💗‼️ (<- we never did any crime other than bully brynn... i think-) ven is so funny and chaotic that it makes me wanna smooch em every time they appear <3 how do i explain this... uhhh, like ven always seems to be the silliest person ever whenever they talk in the server, but GUYS they're like really thoughtful and so overall nshdjisks i can't describe it but i will fight anyone who diss or insult ven /hj kinda srs actually ✨️ ven, if u think that being silly feels weird out of nowhere, bae we're all weird, so dw abt it 😆 im also very silly, so we can be silly together!!! ALSO ONE IMPORTANT FACT, ven is our music genius 🙌‼️ i'm so serious abt wanting to hear ur music for an hour straight-

@stickyspeckledlight: speckled...... well, uh, the word 'silly', 'random', "what in the world-" as a person fr 😆 i also just kinda deem her as the gamer pro in our server and well.... i gotta say she's real good when gaming (<- has never seen her gaming stream) BUT LIKE WHATEVER THOSE GAME TERM STUFF, SPECKLED KNOWS IT ALL ‼️‼️ like whenever she said oh this and that about hsr or genshin, i'd be "oh yeah so true" despite me not understanding her words (sorry yall i'm not a gamer 😭) alsoooo it's pretty noticeable, but uhh speckled (and zuri) is aventurine lover and she's pretty crazy abt him *cues me looking at her fics* keep going bestie 🙌 you (and zuri) are our aventurine truther lol

@ainescribe: AINE MY SPOUSE ✨️ THE LOVE OF MY LIFE /pos 💗💗 ainneee, one of our talented super amazing artists in the hostelry 😻 thought despite me saying that aine is the loml, we haven't talk or interact much, but i know that she's a sweetheart hehe 🫶 aine has a very bubbly way of talking, she likes to yap yap like eun especially if it's about.... uh lores? Idrk the kind of stuff that aine likes to talk about, but it's always fun to hear her (and eun) yap ‼️ also, i can't describe it but she makes me wanna smooch her but also nom her (it's just cuteness aggression-) ALSO I HAVE TO SAY IT AGAINNN, HER ARTS ARE REALLY PRETTYYY 💗🙌 LIKE 100/10 PRETTY ✨️

@lucienbarkbark: girl, idk what goes on in your mind but you're a mood 😆 i am always so surprised whenever rika appears and say something, it's too straightforward but i love her for it <333 she seems like someone who would just do whatever she wants, and i would totally support her for it 💪 rika and her... 66 or more men that she would (respectfully saying) sleep with 🔥🔥🔥 HAHAHHAH THE LIST IS SO LONG AND LIKE 😭😭 i can never not laugh whenever i remember it hdjdjsjwkw pls never change your frank and honest attitude, i love it 🫶 btw, uh, pls have some rest bestie 😭 like an actual rest and also a mental rest 🫂 wishing the best for you rikaaaa >:o

@mixed-kester: esther! While i may not know much about you, but i KNOW one thing!!! It's that she's a really great artist 😻 i'm telling yall to check her arts because (from my opinion) her art style looks like one you would find in a cute short comic (that i would totally devour-) AND YEAH she's just really sweet yk 🥺 also esther talks in a very direct way that it makes you want to just know what's up inside that head of hers 😆 she's also part of the 'would eat mochi 😋' gang and i just.... have to accept that....... anyway LOVE HER 💗‼️ please be more braver and accepting of your feelings, you're precious and worth it, okay? We love you, and i hope sincerely that YOU love YOURSELF 🙌

@euniveve: OHOHOHO OUR RESUME DESTROYER HERE /silly ✨️ jokes aside, i think me, jess, and shiro would say "what can't eun do atp" if we're talking about eun 😭😭 wdym she can write amazing fanfics, great artist, good at debating, a highschool athlete, a student council president- LIKE EUN WHAT THE HECK DID YOU NOT DO???? Is it the intj in you- /silly LMAO anyway, all that aside, eun talks in a very pookie way, so full of.... love (especially if she's talking with harmy) and she would totally yap yap abt smth altho sometimes she's a bit direct about stuff (not in a harsh way tho) all in all, i hope you're not too harsh on yourself 💗 OH AND i love how confident you are!! You know that you're amazing, and i think that's great pookie 🫶

@fishanonishere: FISHHHHH 🫂 the 'albedo' in my life LMAOOOO 😭 they're so cute i wanna smooch them fr ✨️ they like to yap about their works and honestly yap more bestie (I HAVEN'T ANSWERED THEIR DM IN DISCORD BUT YEAH YAP MORE BESTIE 😭😭) they have a distinct way of talking and it's hard for me to describe it, but imagine albedo talking with such an interest while also keeping it low with how monotonous his face is and you're a bit confused whether he's excited or chill with it 😆 fish is also an amazing artist, their art style is very very 😋💗 yeah i'd eat all of em HAHAHAHA anyway fishhh, i hope you keep being 'you'!! It's always fun talking to you, but i think my energy is just not that big enough for us to keep talking for so long 😭🙏

[hushravengoobertown]

-----In the Dark and Blue-----

3/?

February 14th, 1999: 04.00: Cycle 2

The indifference strikes again, the Ocean of Höllvania drowns anyone and everyone who can't keep their head above the waves.

(sorry this took so long, work+EEPY = unproductive)

On a damp and cold morning, clouds looming above. Amir and Kintsugi coiled up in a big, fuzzy blanket. Nuzzling each other as they binged some ‘Warrior Queen Zasta.’ Neither could sleep last night as the adrenaline from their previous mission kept them up. Amir snuck some kisses on Kintsugi’s cheek. Her flushed face was hidden by the light from the TV. “I got a mission with Arthur today, my dear.” Amir’s eyebrow raised but then a big giddy smile revealed itself. “Ooh that's alright Sugarcube! I have to prepare your gift anyway~” her light laughter soothed any anxiety he held. “We're going down to the Harbor this time. Scaldra are getting desperate and are asking for supplies from other nations.”

Amir’s eyes widened, tightening his grip around her a little bit. “That's new… we're really driving them in a corner now huh?” She chuckles, pecking his forehead. “We'll get it done before you're finished with your plan~ I'll make sure of it!” Amir’s eyes met with hers as soft laughter filled the room. “I'll hold you to that Babycakes, just be careful okay? That place is… funny, I know! Very close to the ocean, the waves can be dangerous on days like these.” He gazes out the window, frowning, it was already raining pretty hard, no sign of stopping. She cups his cheek, facing him towards her, their lips softly pressing against each other. “I'll be okay, Zoomy, I promise.” leaning her head against the crook of his neck, she reassures him softly, gently caressing his arm. Both relax in each other's embrace as the next episode of Warrior Queen Zasta plays.

—

They were half asleep when Quincy and his band woke everyone up. Not even the backroom was safe from his shenanigans as the loud banging on the wall shot them up. “Nnuuuugh, sometimes I really wanna deck his stupid face-” Kintsugi nuzzles his arm as he haphazardly rubs his right eye with the palm of his hand. “Mmm time to get ready for the day!” He jumps up giddy, stretching as Kintsugi follows shortly after. “Don’t peek in Aoi’s corner for a bit- it's where the surprise is okaaaay?” He quickly pecks her cheek, sprinting away soon after. Her gentle laughter fuelled his desire to make this the best day ever.

Kintsugi still had some time before needing to show up so she cleaned up in the bathroom, got some fresh (waterproof) clothing on and fed her kavats. She prepared her arsenal for the day, nothing like the good ol’ reliable Boltor, Sicarus, and Glaive to get the job done. All the small chores were finished for now so she went to boot up the POM-2 PC. Holding a groggy sigh, she'd type to greet Arthur.

Kintsugi-Genesis

“Hey, Arthur I'm pretty much ready whenever you are. What's the plan?”

Broadsword

“Gotta wait for the morning fog to roll in. Should provide us enough cover around the place to make it quick and painless…. For us at least. Heh.”

Kintsugi-Genesis

“Sounds good to me, let's make sure their dates cry tonight.”

Broadsword

“...I should not have laughed at that as much as I did.”

Kintsugi-Genesis

“lol I'll get you a beer when we're done.”

Broadsword

“Cheers. I'll text you when the fog is thick enough.”

Kintsugi-Genesis

“^⁠_⁠^”

Broadsword has logged off.

She leaned back on her council chair she brought from Duviri, hands on the back of her head as her gaze diverted to the floof of Amir on her bed, then up outside, rain tapping the window. The ominous winds outside felt like some kind of warning, spiking her nerves. “The Ocean… dangerous when stormy and yet this will be the first time I'll see it. Perhaps I'll be a lil extra careful for Amir… What do you think, Kalymos?” her quiet purrs approached, nuzzling her leg as Kintsugi scratched behind her ears. Her anxiety was broken by Kalymos’s presence.

—

The silence was cut by Amir’s sudden appearance, his figure at the door frame of the loft. “Hey hey hey! My Void Kitten~ Arthur told me that we'll be heading to the Harbor together!!” Kintsugi cocked her head in confusion. “Really..? Arthur seemed pretty excited to actually go on a mission with me for once… why the sudden change?” Amir nodded and approached Kintsugi “Would it be so surprising that he forgot that it was Valentine's day and panicked! You should have SEEN the look on his face when he approached me and told me he learned it only after texting you hahaha!” Kintsugi wheezed, slamming her palm on the table. “What about what you're planning…?” He nodded “Aoi and Eleanor are helping Arthur finish what I started, it's only fair since he's sending us out in the rain haha!” Amir held his hand out and she softly chuckled, taking it. “So will this be like… a beach date?” she'd chuckle sarcastically, rolling her eyes. Amir would take her hand to kiss it. “Of course, Mon Cheri~” Kintsugi was happily bounding down the stairs ahead of him, whistling old Duviri tunes while retrieving her arsenal. What she didn't see was the inky eyes and horrible creeping smile that plastered his face behind her.

—

Amir and Aoi began setting up a couple of chairs and a fancy table. Amir realized he never actually had that ‘Fancy romantic date, wine and schmoozing included.’ with his love, he wanted to show her what a real one was. Aoi agreed with him too, helping him get it set up for Valentine's day. They'd place some privacy walls around the room to keep the place hidden from prying eyes. Aoi held a small radio in hand, flipping between frequencies to find the old timey stations. A knock was heard behind the walls. “Oi fam, got your lux and tie.” Quincy chuckled, as Amir parted the walls with a big dumb smile on his face. “Ohmysolthisisperfect!!! I owe you at least 2 favors for this.” Quincy laughed, patting the speedster on his shoulder. “Nah brother, for som’in like this? All I want is you being your best self, slay that tux, please yo girl… and one favor.” Amir rolling his eyes, punches Quincy’s collar bone playfully, before pushing him out of the room. “Thanks man… means a lot.”

Aoi and Eleanor sat doing each other's make-up, Amir huffed, his gear scattered on the floor, he'd start fixing his collar, staring at himself in a cracked mirror. He admired a black velvet tuxedo covering his shoulders. Black slacks wrapped around his thighs and legs beautifully, a maroon tie with a little lightning bolt pin by the knot covering a white undershirt trying desperately to contain his chest. Nice buttoned cuffs enhanced the details around his wrists. He carefully fixed any creases or wrinkles around his arms and his neck. Quincy did an amazing job finding one that was tailored, let alone fit him.

“She'll like this… yea, she will, I know she will…” his heart was racing nervously, the suit tight around his Warframe body, this was definitely not as easy let alone comfortable as portrayed in those cheesy rom coms he used to binge. “Welp, no going back now.” He took a solid moment to breathe, walking around the corner towards Aoi and Eleanor. Their gazes quickly met his visage. “Oh my Sol…” Eleanor dropped her jaw a little in astonishment. “AMIR YOUR SO HANDSOME WHAAAA-” Aoi jolted from her position, a giddy smile on her face. “Sugi is absolutely going to lose her mind when she witnesses you darling.” Eleanor happily replied. “Y-you really think so?” Aoi jogged over to pat his back, “We know so. Amir.” her smile widened, a nervous but content chuckle escaped Amir, admiring himself.

A sudden knock on the privacy walls, Arthur inviting himself in, he'd notice two scornful gazes and an embarrassed Amir. “Oh… sorry… you… look great, Amir.” Arthur smiled lightly, trying not to pay much mind to his rather upset sister and former girlfriend. “What brings you here brother, we're in the middle of something quite under wraps you know…” Eleanor scoffed. “...I know I'm sorry, but I cannot get a hold of Drifter, she wasn't in the backroom. I assumed she was here with you lot?” Amir’s heart dropped. “S-she isn't here…” Amir somberly responded, Aoi frowned slightly. “Eleanor, are you able to get a poke on her whereabouts?” Arthur crossed his arms, his tone a bit more serious now. “Hmmm… Let me see…” her focus shifted, for a moment closing her eyes. Her eyes widened terrified. Cold gasps escaping her.

“She's… heading for the docks-” she gasped again “There's… another guiding her, it looks like… Amir” everyone's eyes widened in shock. Aoi’s expression soured, Arthur's eyebrow raised, Amir started anxiously pacing. “Howisthatpossibleimrighthere-” his breathing unsteady. “Its… it's the Indifference!- That THING is with OUR Drifter!?” Eleanor's desperate voice shifted the mood aggressively, completely overwhelming emotions washed over Amir, tears started streaming down his face. He held his heart as another panic attack took over every nerve in his body, a cold dread completely strangled his mind. All he could hear was his heart racing. “NOTAGAINNOTAGAINNOTAGAIN…” His knees buckled as his hands grasped his hair, desperately trying to breathe.

Aoi rushed out to prepare the Atomicycles. Eleanor held Amir's shoulder’s trying to calm him down. Arthur’s expression was stoic, he calls for Quincy over the radio, telling Lettie to remain to keep the civilians safe. “We need to leave. Now. That thing is with her, if we don't stop it, we might as well be dead.”

—

Kintsugi crouched with her Glaive in hand, signalling to Àmir, he dove into the fog, Scaldra screams faded, she approached the docks, waves splashing against the concrete. “I don't see anymore Scaldra, seems like we got them all…” no response. “Amir? You okay?! Are you hurt?” A horrible laugh echoed in the mist, the waves seemed to crash louder.

“Ỵ̸̡̛̐̎́͝o̸̝̐ų̵͊̓̿̕r̵̛̪͂̒̈́̈́̕ ̶̡̟̬͖̋́͐͒͝d̸͙̠̉̏̓͑̈́̇a̵̖͔͚̤͛͛͛̄́ḿ̸̘̏̔͊̔̈́ń̷̠͚̘͇̳e̸̝̭̦̯͐d̷̳̬́͒̃ ̴̺̟̖̓͂̑̓̀̍m̴̫̝͌a̸̡͈̜̎̉̒͗́͝ͅṇ̷̘̭̎͋̐̐́ ̴̪̦̞̀̈́̚ͅg̸̙͔̃o̷͔̊͘t̷̳̬̗̫͍̣͌͑̌ ̷̫̈́͂̃̈́̉̕i̸̠̗̐̆̎̕ň̸̠̇͘ ̸̘̭̘́̈͋͋̇̕m̷̰̽̌̒͊ͅy̷̢̞̽̽̇̕ ̵̗̺͓̼̒̉͒̇w̷̬͇̅̓͗̀͘͠a̷̛̤̪̝͌́͘ẙ̸̠̀.̵̹̦́̓͆̉͠ ̶̥̹̱͔͋S̴̨͍̈t̴̻͕̙̬̾̿͝͝e̸͎̿̏̈́a̸̬̖͛̂̀͝l̴̦̰̹͙̗̟̍͗̈́̃͝ỉ̵̼̓̒̇̈́̚ñ̶̯͙̫̈̀̚ģ̵̙͒̓̉̾̕ ̴͍̱̘́͛y̷̲̭̦̖̘̐̓ͅȯ̶̘̤̬̫̞͋̌̊̓û̷̢̩͉͜ ̴̤̓̓f̵̢̰̥͈̃̆͂̕r̴̜̳̫̰̓́̾ơ̶̡̡̞̪̺̓͋͝ͅm̴̨̨͈̫͕̆͘ ̵̭̱́̽̿̂̂̚y̵̨̱̣̤̔ö̷͓͈̦́̈́̌͘u̴̡͍̥͍̝̾̓͊r̷̗̥̬̣̮̈́͆ ̴̢͈͕̞̌̈́͛͐͌͝b̴̲̝̈́e̵͈̱͇͂̀̂l̴̡͔̮̈͌́̿̐a̶̮̿͂͊ͅţ̸̮̙́́̆͌e̴͖̰̞̎̈́͐͝͠d̶̗͚̙̝͚̱̾́̿͠ ̴̡͎̮̗̦̗̅̿̀͘f̷̠́̍̚͠á̵̞̻͈̙̜̱͋t̷͕̟̤̰̖͝ę̸̢͕̍̒͌͒.”

“YOU- I WON'T LET YOU HURT HIM-” the Indifference cackled, revealing itself, a horribly twisted visage of Ȑ̵̩̂̐̌̇ì̶̛͇̖̘̼̞̈m̷̨͉͇̙͋̔̇͐͑a̶͓͎͓̣̔͝͠͝ mocked her. Kintsugi shot at the mirage, it faded, void tongue clawed at her mind getting louder and louder. She grasped her head in agony.

“Í̵̻̺͎̣̲̺̖̻̈́͒̎͑̾'̸̢̠̠͐̒͂̓̆̓͘͝ͅl̴̟͇͊̍̐̐l̷̝͕͇̍̆̌̿̐̅ ̷͕̻͋̑̎s̷̛̖͔̩̱̒ḧ̵̙̻͍̼̭́̆̎̅̎͒͊͜ơ̴̩͍͕̿͑͋̆̓͘͝w̵̧̱̙̳̰̙̘͚̑̿ ̵̧̛̯͓͍̠́́̓͒͠y̵͍͙̭̱̙͑̾͜͠ő̴̧̭̦̐̂ư̸̢̨̬̭͙͎̘̰ ̷͚̮̣̳͙̚ͅa̴̠͆͛͝͝n̶̟̍̆͐̀͘̕͠ ̶̣͂̓̋͆O̸̱̜͓͇͓̮͒͊̎̃̃̓̚͝c̷͔͓͌̾͐͛ͅe̸̪̐ḁ̴͔̮͠n̷̝͎͈̥͖̪̆̈̚͝,̷̲̓̐̊̐̈́̅ ̷̹̗̍̈̀̚̚͝ṱ̷̡̝̠͌͐̈́̇͑̌͐͝ḩ̸̢̢̱͚͇̑ĭ̴̛̻͚̫̱̣̳̯̂̚ş̸͔͕̰̦̔͗̂ͅ ̴̲̬̝̅̿̚ẗ̷̫́̒̐̓̚͝i̷̙͈͙̘̱̮͊̍̃̃́͊͛̕͜m̷̢̯̗͉͙̙̟̑̓̿̿̒̎̚͘͜ḙ̷̼̲̻͖̝̔͌͆̐.̸̫̪̎͝.̴͈̣̤͙̪̥̰͇̌̏.̶̝̮̌ ̴̡̧̢̱̖̄ͅ”

̶̄

“̷̨̠̺͚̮̺̣͎͊̎̑̑͘Y̷̨̬͙̥͍̹͓̾̔͆̏̉͝Ô̶͉̻͛͛Ū̸̯͐̔̀̀̈́”

̴̟̣̬̮̞̊̇͂̋

“̸̳̩̞̳̹͝W̵̨͈͒̍̊Ỉ̶̢̡̭̯̙̠̼͎̐̋̓͋͠L̶̨̝̇̒̕L̸̳͚̖̾̊̏̄͛̈̽̊”

̴̯̠̬̫̦̰̮̑̆̆̓̄͆͘

“̴̼̝͗D̴͎͇̹̈́͆͊̎͝R̶̢͈̤̬̯̯̿̏͌̀̐́̿ͅO̸̧̦͇̰̼͖̺̘̔̔́̐̽̔W̴͔̖̓͌̓́̿̃͒͠ͅN̷̡̙̖͈͎͉͌̇̃̊͑͊.̵̥͍̪̭̬̮͊̀̔̿”

Her screams attempted to drown out the murmur. To no avail, while struggling to keep herself sane, the pain crumbled her strength. Ȑ̵̩̂̐̌̇ì̶̛͇̖̘̼̞̈m̷̨͉͇̙͋̔̇͐͑a̶͓͎͓̣̔͝͠͝ coiled his void-touched hands around her neck, her face, her eyes. It suffocates her. “Amir… h-help… me-” An inky black gaze and cursed smile is all she witnesses before her consciousness failed her.

—

The Atomicycles roared in the storm, Amir's feet pounded against the wet roads. Everything was a blur, not even Eleanor’s brain hugs could soothe his terror. “What is it doing to her? I thought… Why today?… P-please…” his words spilled, was it tears, or the rain streaking his face. The others were barely able to keep up with his increased speed. “Am- slo- -wn” Arthur's voice was barely legible, the radio’s signal disrupted by his speed and the storm around him. He couldn't stop, he wouldn't stop. He needed to save her. That thing had her again. “Please don't be too late pleasepleasepleaseplease-” the docks soon came into sight, Amir was way ahead of the others, the Atomicycles still roared in the distance. He prayed to Sol for once, that she wasn't a corpse by the time he arrived.

The fog was thick, frantically searching around, it was quiet, too quiet. The fog suddenly parted a bit in front of him, Ȑ̵̩̂̐̌̇ì̶̛͇̖̘̼̞̈m̷̨͉͇̙͋̔̇͐͑a̶͓͎͓̣̔͝͠͝ revealed itself. Fury boiled in Amir's body. Tasting iron in his mouth he tensed himself for a charge.

“A̸̯̟̽h̷̜̾͗,̸̰̒̓ ̸̗̇ͅa̷̢̿ḧ̶̼͙́͆ ̴̯̅a̸̮̠͋̐h̶̠̏!̶̼̾͋ ̴̙̉̈́Y̷̛̘̭ọ̷̃̇ũ̷͍͓ ̴̻̂c̵͉̙̈a̵͓͎͒̀n̵̞͊̂'̶̫̽ṯ̵́ ̶̰͆͠d̸͖͈͛͘ò̷̘ ̶͚̂̎t̸̢̋ḧ̶̜̣͌a̵͎͌t̷͕͑͐.̴͓̰̍̕.̴̢̯͝.̴̯̽̂”

The fog parted further revealing Kintsugi hooked loosely on an old crane, chained, rocks dangling below her. Waves crashing fiercely below like maws that want to consume every aspect of her.

“Y̵̛̬̱͛͐̀̑͛o̶̧͓̖͔͔̔͐̈́͛u̶̝̘͂͊ ̶̖͑̕ͅḣ̸̠͍̭̕â̸̙̘̞͗̈́̋̊̇ͅṽ̷̜͉̟̳̹̇e̴͎̓ ̴̧̞͎̩͍̀̉͠͠m̸̨̧̛̪̯ŏ̵̤̟͋r̶̗͓͇̺̺͋͜ę̴̤̫̮̠̗̈́ ̷̨̡̱̞͕͔͝͝p̵͚̥̗̫͑̈r̶̭̤̣̬̂̓ë̷̻̺͔̳́s̸̨̢̮̘͉̉͂̆s̷͚͇̳̜̐̃̌̀́ì̵̛̖̠̭̯̽͋̆͝n̵̥̫̝͂͛g̴̜͇̈́͝͠ ̸̺̙̪̓̄͌ͅm̸̡̡̟͑a̷̖͓͇̠̺͋͑̃̅ͅt̷̨̧̛̝̫̙͒̽͠t̸͇͖̟̞̺͑e̷͙̲̍̒r̶̝̺͊s̷̘̤̦͒̃̀͜ ̴̨̙̤̭͛̈́͒͝t̶͓̩̣̋͌͗͋̏̕ȍ̷͓̜̋̾̎ ̵̞̽a̸̢͓̻̳̪̯̓̋́̇̚t̶̛̝̣͗̉͒́́t̵̢̻͈͐̒̚͝ë̴̤́n̴̡͎̘̦͍̑͒́̉̏d̶̙̘͛̑͌ ̴̝̈̄͛̄͂͘t̴̛̼̔̌̆͝o̴̡͇̬̗̮̾̌͒.̶̡̈́͊.̸̛͉̻̊̈́̈́̃̈.̸͍̻͉̟̾̆̀”

Ȑ̵̩̂̐̌̇ì̶̛͇̖̘̼̞̈m̷̨͉͇̙͋̔̇͐͑a̶͓͎͓̣̔͝͠͝ bellowed again, it's wicked smile coiled around its face once more, snapping its fingers. The hook screeched, unlatching, Kintsugi was free falling towards the murky depths.

“H̸̭͉͙͉̍̈́͘͝a̵͚̬̮͒͂͝p̵̼̱̿͜͝͝p̵̥̪͐̇͘ͅy̶̗̯͔̪̏̀ ̸͕̠̋̽̊̓V̷̡̿͐̍̾a̵̧̱͙̍̃ĺ̶̺̮ͅè̴̘̏͊̆ṇ̷̡̞̭̇t̸̮̪͕͍̏͑̔̓i̸͕̋͒̒n̸̬̭̜͆e̴͎͙̳͐̃'̴͉͒̔͑̾s̴̡̬͕̜̍͑ ̴̻̝̓d̶̘̘̒̋̎͝ā̷͓̙̄̎y̶̮̬͚̼̆̄̔͠.̶̙̂́ ̵̦͔̩̿̓͒̕.̵̝͝”

Time slowed around Amir, he charged, not at the Indifference, but the ocean, diving in he saw her faint light sinking fast. He frantically swam down, every muscle in his body screaming, the currents making it seem like he was getting nowhere, air bubbles from her fading image the only thing guiding him further.

—

“Amir, AMIR- DAMNIT! signals dropped…” Arthur and the others quickly leaped off their Atomicycles, Aoi and Eleanor quietly conversed, readying their weapons. “Quincy, go far, covering us from a distance, the last thing we need is all of us to be trapped here with that thing without backup.” Quincy nodded, slight concern crept over his face. “You sure ‘bout this, your maj? Gonn’ have to post pretty far to getta half decent shot.” Arthur nodded. “Those are your orders, Quincy, now go.” Quincy sighed, getting back on his Atomicyle, riding off. “Aoi, make sure the Scaldra aren't making a surprise tour of the place, Eleanor, on me, can you get a read on Amir or Drifter…?” Eleanor's focus tightened, her head throbbed at the Indifferences presence. “I can't see or hear anything from them. The Indifference must be close by… lurking like a predator stalking its prey brother… it's waiting for us…” Arthur shuddered, grasping his Skana tightly, muttering to himself. “Sol damnit…”

The docks were completely coated in fog, the waves crashing against the concrete and metal of the abandoned sailboats. Arthur took a deep breath, the air heavy with some kind of miasma, Eleanor choked, a horrible presence rapidly approaching, like a tiger lunging on its prey, “ARTHUR-” a silver set of claws slashed at his chest throwing him back into some rusted crates, Eleanor hissed as Ȑ̵̩̂̐̌̇ì̶̛͇̖̘̼̞̈m̷̨͉͇̙͋̔̇͐͑a̶͓͎͓̣̔͝͠͝ turned it's attention towards her, black inky eyes meeting her feral purple ones. Sense seemed to have disappeared from her as she viscously growled. “STAY AWAY, DEMON, YOU WEAR HIS FACE BUT I KNOW YOU AREN'T HIM-.” Arthur's stance recovered, quickly launching himself forward with his exalted blade, Ȑ̵̩̂̐̌̇ì̶̛͇̖̘̼̞̈m̷̨͉͇̙͋̔̇͐͑a̶͓͎͓̣̔͝͠͝ mocked them as feral screams and animalistic retaliations coated the fog in miasma and blood.

Ȑ̵̩̂̐̌̇ì̶̛͇̖̘̼̞̈m̷̨͉͇̙͋̔̇͐͑a̶͓͎͓̣̔͝͠͝ bellowed once more, staring down at Arthur and Eleanor's wounded body.

“W̶̧̜͔̬̿ô̴̞̝̤̹̔ǘ̶̜̫̣͑l̶̻̽͝͝d̴̬̪̼̍͊͊ṉ̷͔̽͝'̸̩̣̥̀̈́̉̚t̵͚̐̅̀ ̵͚͒̄́i̶͙̩͇̠̓͑t̷͕́ ̶̞̦̂͘b̸̖́è̴̘͍̙̙̑̒̕ ̶͍̦̺̬̂a̵̼͆̓̈́ ̵̢̀̅̇s̴͖̐͒h̴̨̓̓̀a̸̢͓͔̳͋̽m̴̡͍̊̃̆͠ȩ̸̡̙̟̏͘,̵͓͚̈́́̓ ̵̯̓̓̓͛i̵̧̎̄͝͝f̷̨̰̹̅̆̈́ ̴̪̣̤̅͠ÿ̴͇̩ǫ̴̨̦̉̎̎͝u̷̽̏͘ͅ ̷̝̹͈̔l̶͖̯̏̉͆͘o̸̎̀̽ͅs̷̛̲̹̘͕̄͊t̷̺͈͒ ̷̡͑ŷ̸̬̥̍̑o̵̟̒u̸̝͉̗̞͝r̸͚̲̳̗̓͌̾ ̵̘̿͛̈́͆͜a̴͙͍̹̔́̏̂b̶̰̤̮̒i̷̭̺͒̍͌̌l̵͎͔̹̲̀͗̀î̶͎͉̟̔̅͝t̵̨͇̖͙̄̿̓y̸͖̺͌̃ ̷̫͒t̶̢̮͍̺̾͐o̴̭̜̽̾͌͝ ̴͓͈́̕̚d̸̢͇̦͔̓̉̌͒e̵̱͍͠f̷̡͓͇͂͒̽̕e̶̗̪̊̔̆n̵̗̽ͅd̷̯̥͇̈ ̷̨̡̙͈̾̋ý̸̨̟̄o̴̧̥͑̆̀ủ̴̩̬̏r̵̗̐̌s̷͉̈̈e̸̯͝l̸͕̂́̒v̶̮̥̺̰̑̽ě̷̗̣̠͒s̶̡͚͗?̵͖͂̿̕”

Ȑ̵̩̂̐̌̇ì̶̛͇̖̘̼̞̈m̷̨͉͇̙͋̔̇͐͑a̶͓͎͓̣̔͝͠͝ snapped his ethereal fingers, Eleanor screamed as her body went limp, Arthur forced to kneel, his body no longer able to stand. His voice croaked. They were both bleeding out and their healing factor was gone. Ȑ̵̩̂̐̌̇ì̶̛͇̖̘̼̞̈m̷̨͉͇̙͋̔̇͐͑a̶͓͎͓̣̔͝͠͝’s smile, wicked and all powerful, the demon had their souls poised before it.

“Ḱ̶͜ḭ̸̱͠l̵̺̺̐͝l̵̰̣̆i̸͔͑͠ṇ̵̔g̷͇̃͜ ̶͚͘4̶̹̀ ̵̯͒̏b̵̦́͜i̶̩̕r̷̖͠d̵̛̤s̷͇͇̈́ ̸̠́w̷͇͕̓i̶͍̓̚ṯ̸̝̃h̶̡̗͆̊ ̸̩̺̓ó̵̭̮̽n̷̮̄e̷̝͆ ̶͙̥͝l̴̤̼̈i̸͕͔͑e̸͓̾͒.̴̡͒̊.̴̭̋̒.̶̖͂͗ ̶̼̿C̵̳̖͌̀ọ̷͔͒u̵͈̗̽l̷̛̤̼̑d̷̗̔͝ ̷͚̹̓t̶̹͐̓h̶̗͂̈́i̸̠͘s̸̘̩̾̕ ̸̢͐͌d̴̻͒á̶̧̙̆y̶̹̏͐ ̸͔̿g̴̺̦̍ḙ̸̅̂ṱ̶̱̈́ ̶̩̤̇̎ā̴̤̳̊n̸̩̲͂y̸̝̌ ̷̧̑͐b̴̘̟̕è̷̳̭t̴̞̚t̸͔̏ȩ̸͕̽r̴͎͌͐~̴͓̱͆”

It cooed, mocking, wheezing, the murmur laughed with it, like a horrible comedy becoming so right. It didn't know that a scope had its head in sight.

—

Amir's lungs were already burning, he desperately ignored his need for air, he was so close to her body, he could almost reach the chains, he had to break them with what little strength he had left. “No.” All too familiar voices echoed in his mind. All his horrible emotions, grasped at his nerves. “You can't live with yourself if you let her die” anxiety whispered, he grasped the rusted chains holding her down. “You NEED to BREATHE!!” fear screamed. His muscles burning, attempting to pull the chains apart that were bounding her to the depths. “LOOK AT HER, SHE IS GONE AND ALL YOU WANT TO DO IS DROWN US!?” Anger hissed. This pushed Amir over the edge, snapping the chains with ease.

“Give up. You won't make it to the surface with her…” depression sobbed. He grasped her limp body, clawing the horrible currents upward. He felt his body weakening, not just from a lack of oxygen, yet his energy levels dropped drastically and suddenly. He felt the Void trying to pull him down. “NO” all the voices in his head yelled in unison. “SAVE US SAVE HER SAVE US, SAVE HER.” The surface was visible. Yet his vision dimmed, hallucinations started taking hold. His pace weakened. His fading consciousness glanced down at Kintsugi, her warm body pressed against his chest. The only warmth he felt in this entire ocean. Golden threads appeared around and above him. Spiraling upwards, showing him memories of them. Safe, warm, peaceful, the voices in his head quieted. “just a little further…” Kintsugi's voice soothed his mind. His vision darkens, letting the light of the threads pull him upwards.

—

Quincy poised himself, he was considerably far from the Harbor. An old office building he decided to make a nest in. He sighed, the fog still covering the docks. He positioned his sights towards a miasmic cloud by a crane structure. “fuk… haven't had a shot like tis’ in years… not the good kind either.” he muttered to himself. The miasma parted slightly, revealing the Indifference, hovering over Eleanor and Arthur's body. “Maj?! Why ain't movin’ cuz!?” His scope revealed the Indifference stepping closer, grinning at the now bleeding Arthur. “Fuk, fuk, okay… this shot finna be a nat 20 roll it has to be-” Quincy found himself sweating for the first time in years, if he didn't land this shot they'd be dead down there. “Steady… steady… damit steady-” he felt his heart panic a bit, his sights shaking a bit. “this- … I owe the speedster a lot of apologies.” Quincy took another deep breath, remembering Kintsugi comforting Amir, remembering the breathing exercises she taught him. “I owe him another round of F&F, Maj another beer, Eleanor an apology.” he stabilized his scope on the fading figure of the Indifference. “I owe Aoi 7 favors… Lettie a lot of silence.” He scoped in as far as he could. His shot couldn't be any clearer and yet, it truly was one in a million if he landed it or not. “I owe Drifter…” he poised, and let the shot ring out all around him he witnessed as the bullet blew the head right off the indifference, its skull wispy and sprawling in the air around it, like stained glass and light. “I owe 'em nothing, they's forgiven me, betta be alive is all I want.”

Ȑ̵̩̂̐̌̇ì̶̛͇̖̘̼̞̈m̷̨͉͇̙͋̔̇͐͑a̶͓͎͓̣̔͝͠͝'s body fell flat, the fog and miasma fading, the clouds parting slightly. Aoi rushed up to Arthur and Eleanor breathing labored. Lifting Arthur against a crate and tending to what little wounds remained on Eleanor “I couldn't move at all… what happened to you here!?” Arthur grunted. “mnng, explain later, find Amir and Drifter…” Aoi frowned, “How..?” Eleanor piped up somberly, “They're beneath the waves…” Arthur slumped, Aoi gasped, utilizing her returned strength she'd mold the metal around her. Scanning the waves for any signs of life.

—

Was this some horrible nightmare? Tricks his mind conjured? Just this morning they were binging his favorite season of Warrior Queen Zasta. It all happened so fast, golden light swirled, he felt his arm being pulled. Breaching the ocean's surface, Amir gasped finally, his lungs burning from the water and fresh air clashing, pulling Kintsugi's body up over his shoulders; he struggled to keep both their heads above the surface. The waves crashing over him like wolves pouncing on meek prey, he couldn't see where they were, but one thing’s for certain, the currents pulled them both far from shore. “H-HELP-” another wave stifled his cries for help, he paddled fruitlessly towards some land, the distance was furthered with each kick, with each stroke, he couldn't keep up much longer. He felt sudden jolts, his powers came back. He screamed as he threw a bolt of electricity in the sky, begging for someone to see them. Another wave sent them both beneath the surface, his strength was waning, another bolt casted upwards.

“-mir-” his name echoed in the distance. Was he hallucinating again? “AMIR-” louder now, it sounded like Aoi with no other options he screamed. “OVER HERE- GUUHG.” surfing on a makeshift metal board, Aoi formed a metal rope. “GRAB ON GOT IT!?” she launched the metal rope, Amir reached for it, the metal coated his wrist and solidified, he was being pulled to shore. His exhaustion setting in he whimpered. “Sugi… isn't… breathing.” He croaked out between gasps. “We're almost there, stay with me Amir got it? We still have that fables and frontiers game to play!” her humorous trill encouraged a laugh from him, yet it was weak. He wasn't worried about that right now.

It felt like an eternity, but they arrived back on shore. Aoi gently let Amir down, his knees unable to lift himself, he softly placed Kintsugi on the cold concrete. Her face was ice cold, her body completely still, no breathing, Arthur and Eleanor recovered most wounds they endured all they could do was circle Amir and a lifeless Drifter.. “H-Hey Sugarcube… p-please wake up…” Amir's voice trembled, tears pricking his face. He'd caress her cheek gently. Nothing. “N-no… please…” he pulled her close to his chest, begging her to breathe, nothing. “I… I can't… lose you…” he started rocking slightly, hot tears drenching his face. “Amir… there's… nothing we can do now…” Arthur sounded like he was going to cry himself. It wasn't the first time yet, it's been a while. “I.. I can't accept this, no. I WON'T-” His sudden electric lashings startled the group. Eleanor patted her brother’s shoulder and they'd back off. Aoi kneeled beside Amir, he'd shove his face on Kintsugi's chest, sobbing, turning into wailing, and then suddenly, silence. He noticed her hand twitch from his electricity. “I… can save her-” a somber croak.

Amir shifts his body, lying her flat on the ground, rubbing his hands together rapidly. Placing his hands on her chest he’d huff.

-ZZZAAP-

her body recoiled harshly, before going limp again. He'd witness her legs twitching.

“...Again.”

-ZZZZZAAAAP-

a little longer this time, her body violently reacting, limp again. He could have sworn he saw her arms move.

“AMIR WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?” Arthur screamed trying to reason with Amir. He'd rush over, yet Aoi gasped his arm and shook her head.

-ZZZZZZAAAAAPPP-

Nothing, her chest was… burning. It was time to stop now. “I… I'm…. Sorry….” He gently caresses her body, coiling her in an embrace.

“W-we were just enjoying Warrior Queen Zasta th-this morning…” he pressed his forehead against hers, his heart heavy with grief and sorrow. “I couldn't s-save you in time, why did it all have to go wrong?… i-” a hand cupped his cheek, his eyes shot open, meeting Kintsugi's gaze. “...i'm right here my love…” tears were streaming down her cheeks. Amir wailed in relief, pressing his head into the crook of her neck aggressively, her embrace wrapping around his soggy head. “I'm here. I'm right here. Shhh….” The storm let up above, golden sun rays peeking through the clouds.

—

The group arrived back home. Lettie immediately demanded what took them so long. One look at Amir and Kintsugi told her everything. “Xipe Totec and a dance with La Flaca…” she'd tend to Arthur's wounds as Quincy, Aoi and Eleanor discussed what happened. “Amir…” Kintsugi limped towards him, tugging him towards the backroom. “Rest..?” Amir nodded somberly. The mall fell silent unfortunately Valentine's day ended in dread and sorrow.

The backroom was quiet, Amir and Kintsugi unclothed, cradled in each other's embrace, neither wanting to let go of each other in fear they'd be taken again. “Rima was… terrifying.” Amir finally broke the silence. “It… laughed at me, before I dove in the ocean…” Kintsugi shuddered. “I'm not sure what it did to me… but it was incredibly painful-” Amir tightened his grasp. “I won't let Rima ever, EVER touch you again.” A small whimper left Kintsugi. “Oh- are you okay!? where does it hurt!?” Amir's posture immediately jolted when he traced the scars around her chest. He immediately knew why she was hurting… “fuck… that's… that's really bad, god I'm so sorry…” she frantically shook her head, cupping both his cheeks, kissing him. “No… you saved me, they're just a bit tender, I'll heal, love.” Another moment of silence filled the room. They shifted themselves again under the covers this time, exhaustion finally settling in. “I'm scared.” Kintsugi whispered. Amir held her face close to his, a soft kiss planted on her lips, his gaze met with hers. “I am too, but... we can fight this... together.” she'd relax in his embrace, their breathing synchronizing, golden threads danced above their minds, falling asleep peacefully.

[lilacmingi]

ALICE IN WONDERLAND AU ♤ PART 7: JIN

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works

Pairing: White Queen!Jin x fem reader

Word count: 2,655

"Y/n! Look at this!" Jungkook laughed.

Lifting your gaze, you saw him making a silly face while balancing a teacup on his bunny ears.

Joyous laughter bubbled up and slipped out of you while you clapped your hands, applauding him for his entertaining trick.

"You're so cute, Kookie!" You gushed. "Will you let me pet your ears?"

"Of course." He laughed and walked over, bending down to let you stroke his soft and fuzzy bunny ears.

Another happy giggle spilled out of you.

What's going on? You wondered. Is this a dream? Why am I so little?

You were seeing things from your point of view, but you couldn't control what you were saying or doing. Was this a memory, perhaps?

"Would you like more tea, Miss Y/n?" Taehyung offered.

"Yes! Your tea is the best, Tae."

"The best in Wonderland." He winked as he poured you a cup of tea.

Scampering along the table was the dormouse, who pushed the container of sugar cubes over to you. You giggled, thanking the small animal before taking a couple and dropping them into your tea before taking a sip of it.

Looking over, you saw Namjoon blowing smoke in different shapes that grabbed your attention, your eyes following them as they dissipated into the air.

"Joonie, you're so talented!" You gushed. "How do you do that?"

He grinned, showing his dimples. "Lots of practice."

All of a sudden you were lifted up onto someone's back. It was Jimin. He started to run around the tea party, lightly jostling you as he did so.

"Jiminie, run faster!" You giggled.

Before he could fulfill your request, you were abruptly lifted off his back and into the air.

"Hey!" Jimin frowned.

"It's my turn." A deep voice spoke.

You recognized it as Yoongi.

He held you bridal style and floated around.

"Cat boy!" You squished his cheeks.

"I told you to call me Yoongi."

"I like to call you cat boy."

He rolled his eyes but laughed anyway.

Gathered at the table below were the boys, all of which you recognized except one. A handsome man with dark brown hair sat at the table, laughing happily with a small pastry in his hand. Little you waved at him to which he returned the gesture, blowing you a hand kiss.

Childhood you seemed to know who he was, but current you had no idea.

All of a sudden, you were no longer in Yoongi's arms and were stood in the rose garden at Hoseok's castle. There was a bucket of paint in one hand and a paintbrush in the other. Hoseok was standing over you smiling brilliantly as you painted the white roses red, coating them in the crimson hue.

"Good job, Y/n. You're so smart for suggesting this." He grinned brightly.

Your eyes slowly opened only to be met with a gray, cloud-covered sky. Glancing around, you realized you were in some sort of outdoor execution area. You could see Namjoon, Jimin, Taehyung, Yoongi, and Jungkook in front of you. All five boys were stuck in guillotines, their hands and necks bound in place.

Sitting up high in a theater balcony and looking down on them was none other than Hoseok. His eyes met yours and it felt like he was piercing daggers through you.

You tried to go after the boys to free them, but you were being held firmly in place by the card knights.

"Please let them go, Hoseok!" You pleaded desperately.

"It's too late for that my dear Y/n." He said.

All five of the imprisoned men looked at you and your heart sank with an overwhelming sense of guilt. Somehow you felt this was all your fault.

"Off with their heads!" Hoseok shouted and all the blades on the guillotines fell down.

"No!" You shrieked and shot upright at such a brisk speed that it almost made you dizzy.

Your chest heaved with each heavy breath you took and a thin layer of sweat covered your forehead as your frantic gaze moved hastily about to room only to realize you were in an unfamiliar place. Everything was white except the tiles on the floor, which were black and white checkered. You were lying on a couch of the same chalky shade as everything else, still in your dress from Hoseok, which was tattered and stained with dirt.

The sound of heels clicking against the floor reached your ears. When you looked up, you saw a woman in a short, white dress. Her hair was the same snowy hue as her attire and she wore dark makeup that stood out from her pale appearance. In her hands was a tiny tray with medical supplies lined along it. When she finally saw you were sitting upright, she let out a gasp, immediately exiting the room in a hasty manner. A few seconds later, a handsome man in a white turtleneck and thin wire frame glasses walked in carrying the tray of medical supplies. Your gaze was glued to him, mesmerized by his beauty. It was then that something connected in your head, like two wires coming together to form a spark.

"Jin!" You uttered the name like second nature, shifting to stand up.

"Whoa. You don't need to move." He advised, pulling a chair over to sit in.

The supplies were set on a nearby table and Jin carefully pulled your dress up to your knees, revealing multiple cuts and scratches on your legs.

"So you remember after all." He stated.

"I guess I do." You spoke quietly.

The way his name left your mouth like you'd said it a hundred times was strange. When you saw him in that dream—that flashback, you didn't know him, yet when you awoke and laid eyes on him, you knew exactly who he was.

"Your friends are here."

"Really?"

You couldn't help but feel a sense of both relief and happiness. Everyone was okay.

"They came to me after Hoseok's knights took you away. They were very worried." He grabbed a washcloth and dipped it into a bowl of water before wringing it out. "This might hurt." He warned before carefully cleaning your injuries.

You winced as the cloth passed over the tender and damaged skin, pulling your lip between your teeth in an attempt to get through the stinging sensation.

"You took a nasty fall out there." Jin commented.

"How did you find me? I was alone."

"You weren't far from my castle. One of my loyal subjects was out walking and found you passed out in the grass. You're very lucky."

He set the stained cloth aside and took some ointment on a small cosmetic spatula, gently spreading it over the cuts. He then retrieved some bandages and wrapped them around the injuries on your legs, touching you with the utmost caution, acting as if you were delicate porcelain that would break if he was too harsh.

"Thank you."

"It's no problem, my dear." Jin smiled.

Your heart fluttered. Wow. He's dreamy.

"I'll go get you some fresh clothes." He excused himself, walking out of the room.

He returned moments later with a stack of white garments. You thanked him once again and started to stand up only to fall down onto the floor, the cuts on your legs hurting more than you thought.

"Here. Let me help you, princess." Jin offered, bending down to help you up off the marble floor.

You slung your arm over his wide shoulders as he pulled you to your feet, slowly walking out into the hall and bringing you to a small room.

"You can change in there. I'll be right out here." He informed you, taking a seat on a small bench in the corridor.

You stepped into the room where you changed out of the dirt-stained dress and into the fresh clothes Jin had so kindly provided you with. While in the room, you removed the red extensions that had been clipped into your hair, glancing in the mirror to check your appearance.

The outfit Jin gave you was casual, but not anything frumpy-looking. It consisted of a fuzzy cardigan, a white tank top, and loose pants. For shoes it was a pair of simple slip ons. The drawstring pants he provided you with were extremely loose in the legs and made of soft fabric that you couldn't seem to keep your hands off of.

Jin stood up and looked at you as soon as you emerged from the room, a bright smile spreading across his face.

"You look lovely."

"I know I keep saying this, but thank you... for everything. You brought me fresh clothes and took care of my wounds." To further convey your gratitude, you wrapped your arms around Jin, giving him a light squeeze.

He hugged you back, humming softly in contentment. "You're welcome, Y/n."

When you pulled away, he gazed down at you with a fondness in his eyes that made your stomach flip. Leaning down, Jin placed a chaste kiss to your forehead.

"C'mon. Your friends will want to see you."

Jin's hand took hold of yours, careful to walk at a more leisurely pace since your legs were injured and more than likely in pain. He escorted you down a wide set of stairs that led to the common room located at the entrance of his castle.

As you descended the staircase, you spotted all five of the boys sitting around, all of them looking worried as they waited. When they heard footsteps approaching, they all looked up to see who it was.

A cheery chorus of your name was exclaimed as all of them started making their way towards you.

"Hey! Be careful. She's injured." Jin scolded before they could get any closer.

The five of them stopped and let you get to the bottom of the steps before engulfing you in a group hug.

"Thank goodness you're okay." Taehyung sighed.

"I was worried." Jungkook spoke. "I didn't know if you'd made it to Taehyung after you left us."

"Me too." Jimin agreed, his eyes looking glossy.

"Thank you all for worrying about me. Really. It means the world."

"Jin said it seemed like you tripped over a tree root and passed out." Namjoon shook his head. "Clumsy girl."

Though his words were a bit brash, you could see concern and relief behind his brown eyes.

"Well, when you're scared and running from an army of knights, you're bound to trip over something." You shot back playfully. "Ah. I have news! While I was unconscious, I had the strangest dream. That dream turned out to be memories of this place from when I was little."

"You remember?" Taehyung's face lit up.

Unable to hold back the grin on your face, you nodded, smiling brightly.

"Oh. Yoongi, sorry I called you cat boy all those years ago."

He chuckled and shook his head. "It's okay, darling. You were little."

"Jungkook and I heard Hoseok captured you. What happened?" Jimin asked.

"Did he hurt you?" Taehyung inquired.

"Did he throw you in a cell?" Jungkook questioned.

"No. None of that. He was actually very nice."

"What?" Everyone's eyes went wide, their mouths agape in disbelief.

"Don't be like that." Jin chastised. "Let her talk. I'm sure she has an explanation."

"He's got some anger issues." You began.

"Tell me about it." Yoongi grumbled under his breath.

In turn, Jin shot him a warning glance which shut him up.

"He told me how you all used to be friends and that you made him feel left out. He said you all preferred to hang out with Jin rather than him and it made him sad."

"That's not true!" Jungkook protested.

"Yes it is and you know it." Namjoon crossed his arms. "It's our fault he is the way he is."

"That's true." Taehyung agreed. "There's not a day that goes by that I don't feel bad for the way we treated him."

"Hobi was actually really fun to be around. I guess we all just forgot about him when Jin joined the friend group." Jimin voiced. "We never meant to cast him aside."

"You all know that was a pretty crummy thing to do." You frowned softly.

They all nodded, agreeing silently.

"Hoseok still seems really upset by it. Though I'm no different than you all."

"What do you mean by that?" Yoongi inquired.

"I ran away from him. He figured out at least one of you had... kissed me." You uttered the last part quietly. "He wasn't happy about it. In fact, he was enraged. It terrified me, so I took off. As I was fleeing, he called for his knights to capture you five so he could cut off your heads."

The group shared a brief look of concern.

"Cut off our heads?" Jimin echoed.

"He wouldn't do that." Said Namjoon.

"How do you know?" Yoongi challenged.

"Hoseok was never like that."

"We haven't spoken to him in years. He could have changed."

"Yoongi has a point." Jungkook spoke up.

As the five of them bickered back and forth, Jin stepped forward, gently tapping your shoulder.

"Y/n, will you come with me for a moment? I'd like to talk to you in private." Jin requested, pulling you away from the group. "Let's walk."

You fell into step with him, walking into a separate room that put some distance between you and the commotion.

"You probably think I'm the bad guy after hearing Hoseok's story." Jin sighed.

"Not really. Truthfully, I think it's just a big misunderstanding that never got fixed. I think you all went about it the wrong way."

"I believe you're right. I still feel awful about it. Hoseok was my best friend. I should have apologized and fixed things already."

"Why haven't you?"

"To be honest, I'm scared."

"What's there to be scared of?" You inquired.

"Facing Hoseok after all these years, I suppose. That's what I'm scared of. He could refuse to accept my apology, and he has every right to do so."

"I'm going to be totally honest. Is that okay?"

"Of course it is." He spoke sincerely, reaching out and grasping your hand.

"I think Hoseok is still open to an apology. He's still hurt. If you apologize, it would be the first step to rebuilding your friendship. You should make amends."

"You think he'll accept it?"

"I know he will. I could see the hurt in his eyes and an apology would begin to fix that."

"Thank you, Y/n. You truly have grown up to be a brilliant and beautiful young lady." Jin leaned down, kissing your cheek softly. "Let's go back to your friends."

On the way back down to the common room, concern for the boys' safety crossed your mind. Jin agreed to apologize, but Hoseok didn't know that. For all you knew, he was still in a blind rage.

"Jin, are the boys safe here? Hoseok won't come and try to behead them will he?" You questioned fretfully.

"Of course they're safe here. And no, Hoseok isn't that violent." Jin said. "He's all bark no bite—and I mean that in the best way. I know he seems scary, but he wouldn't hurt a fly."

When the two of you rejoined the group, you filled them in on what you and Jin had discussed. If anything were to change, the boys would have to do something.

"Are you all open to apologizing and making amends with Hoseok?" Jin asked.

There was a resounding and collective yes from the group, all five of them in agreement.

"Good." He gave a nod of finality. "We'll all go together."

Before anyone could move an inch, the front doors to the castle burst open and in stormed Hoseok, looking angrier than when you had left him.

"Give her back to me, Jin!" He demanded.

➯ Finale

Masterlist ᝰ

DO NOT steal, plagiarize, copy, repost, alter, or translate my works in any way

🏷 @h3arteyes4mingi @weird-bookworm @poppy2007 @parkjennykim @evidive @mxlly143 @lizzymizzy-blogg @minhanbyeol @dinossaurz

[fountainpenguin]

"Got me starting up a riot! 'til we backfire! Gonna run wild… so I’m always getting higher!" (x)

---

New Dog's Life chapter today! ~ 3rd Life series fan-season

Chapter 46 - “Scatter By Sunset (BigB, Jimmy, Etho)”

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Anticipatory moonlight is a dagger in his back. It traces his spine like a fingernail; he can feel it grip his hair in one hand and squeeze his jaw in the other, forcing up his head. He’s on his knees. He swallows in response, a lump rolling past its fingers, and the moon is the most dangerous thing in this entire world. Especially when it’s smiling. And the universe says “I love you” every time it drags him forward by the hair, but this purr of affection does not mean he’s excused from the job he’s asked to do. The ecosystem is in balance. The moon’s a gracious and demanding queen. Everything she has, she grants freely unto you. You get the fun and flirtation and everything that satisfies you- that you forgot you’re allowed to want. And when she snaps her fingers, you obey her like a dog.

In which BigB is given the option to sell his friends out for a luxury train ride and Jimmy goes to the library.

(First 1,000 words under the cut - Spoilers for Criminal Experience below; they are minor if you've read to Dog's Life chapter 11)

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bigbst4tz2

Location: Half Moon Lake, North Lone Spruce

🖤  🌕  🖤

The clouds swirl like dewdrop-coated cobwebs when BigB coasts through them on fuzzy wings. That first moment he crests them, breaching surface, feels like escaping the perimeter for real this time. Ohhhh, my!

There she is. The most beautiful flower you’ve ever seen. The fox that runs faster than you ever will. The hound who chases moonlight. The dolphin in the sky. Venus among the fishes. A museum exhibit that can never be contained.

The sun winks back as it sinks towards the horizon. He sucks in air that makes his gums shake. There it is. It’s been cloudy the whole time they’ve been in this snow-filled tundra. But the sky is still pink, like it always is.

And there’s the sun. Smaller than the Overworld’s, shining like a crystal under direct lantern light. Times infinity. Less violent than her sister; fewer hours that scorch your skin alive. There she is, in the flesh, bathed in pink like a spawnling in a blanket. He could cry. And when he stretches his hand forward, it’s a much, much smaller hand reaching towards the sun all those centuries ago.

He is two years old, already oozing the early signs of parkour mastery that will follow him until he’s grown. Climbing the cliff is easy, but Vee can’t reach the top. Her foot starts to slip. BigB turns back, grabbing her wrist, and pulls her on the grass so fast, they thump down in a tangled mess of pixels. BigB’s on the bottom, one hand still chasing the sun. His fist closes around it like a firefly.

BigB plunges beneath the clouds, but with a flick of wings, he breaks above again. And there she is. He doesn’t need to think. He reaches out his hand.

He is three, still marked a youngling by his gray and black robes. He’s got a book in his lap that’s almost too big for him, one finger tracing words as he teaches Carrie how to read. Illagealt was hard for her. Or maybe reading as a concept was, but that’s what she said when he asked. This comes a thousand years before the mission that diverted an exhausted patrol into Evernight City, tracking the man who killed the Allay Dragon. One thousand years from now, they are fighting. Rain is pouring from the sky, and Skizz is snarling in his dragon form, and she is screaming at B to kill him for the blinking lights on his inner wrist.

One thousand years from now, Carrie is captain in a storm, pink feathers flapping all around her. And in one snapshot instant, BigB earns a mark that boils skin. And Impulse will go home with his soul inside out, and BigB will get a dragon bite that tears his lungs apart. And Mumbo cleans his wounds, and BigB feeds the last baby allay in the world from a well-scrubbed milk bottle while Vee holds his chest and helps him breathe. It’s a fight to travel days from Evernight to Tintopia, where Doc and his friends have the means to patch him up. He’s on some serious medication. You wouldn’t believe it; you wouldn’t believe. Vee’s vex are on him the whole way, taking turns to pump his chest. He’s pretty sure he passed out for half the trip, sprawled on the back of Mumbo’s llama. When they get there, he can’t bring himself to take the years required for custom mods, so to avoid the death loop, he picks one of three body templates he’s offered. It can’t be twisted to fit him, so he’s made to fit its code instead. Endermite-teeth shears snip his illusion magic away. And it’s gone.

And I pretend to be okay with that. Vee, Mumbo, and her vex share a server with him in the Tintopia hub, but have a separate bedroom, until one day Vee wanders mutely into BigB’s office while he’s up late reading a science journal he got from Doc. He looks up and she breaks down. And BigB never says a word to his cousin, but wraps his arms around her and listens ‘til she steadies out. It’s not Mumbo’s fault (the things anivores did to him for years and years while taking their escort pay for leading him safely through Between), but Vee’s so close that he’s burned by smoke alone and just realized he’s too scared to settle down.

He packs the llamas in the morning. Vee goes home with her ravager, and BigB has Bad Omen and is getting left behind. That’s okay. He applies for further Education, stays eight more months as Doc’s assistant, gets his hands on a lot of oddball items, and is off to EVO as soon as he can go. He doesn’t know it yet, but a thousand plus years from now, Mumbo meets a parrot with downy green wings who’ll someday fall through a rift to another world. In that world, there is a Grian who’s just fallen into a zombie pit with the soulmate he was fighting with, and Oscar Goodchild’s parents are scheming for a way to snap the soulbond and take him out for good. So he runs. Oscar pulls the drapes shut and does not follow. Just sends him off with the cookies he baked before he caught his soulmate in his etiquette tutor’s lap, books strewn sideways and hands dipped under each other’s shirts. That’s how Grian tells it, anyway. Who knows if that was a lie, like everything else seems to be.

I’m so stupid. Of course he’d cheat on me just like he’s been cheating on his wife and Scar. And maybe Bdubs too. It’s so obvious when he looks back now. He’s not special. Grian wasn’t gonna change for him. Grian’s chasing the highs of falling in love over and over because he can’t get sex in this world of pixels and brief collision, and the falling is the most exciting thing he gets to have.

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[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Mario Lasalandra Scarecrow 1968

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Things I Didn’t Know I Loved: After Nazim Hikmet → I always knew I loved the sky, the way it seems solid and insubstantial at the same time; the way it disappears above us even as we pursue it in a climbing plane, like wishes or answers to certain questions — always out of reach; the way it embodies blue, even when it is gray. But I didn’t know I loved the clouds, those shaggy eyebrows glowering over the face of the sun. Perhaps I only love the strange shapes clouds can take, as if they are sketches by an artist who keeps changing her mind. Perhaps I love their deceptive softness, like a bosom I’d like to rest my head against but never can. And I know I love the grass, even as I am cutting it as short as the hair on my grandson’s newly barbered head. I love the way the smell of grass can fill my nostrils with intimations of youth and lust; the way it stains my handkerchief with meanings that never wash out. Sometimes I love the rain, staccato on the roof, and always the snow when I am inside looking out at the blurring around the edges of parked cars and trees. And I love trees, in winter when their austere shapes are like the cutout silhouettes artists sell at fairs and in May when their branches are fuzzy with growth, the leaves poking out like new green horns on a young deer. But how about the sound of trains, those drawn-out whistles of longing in the night, like coyotes made of steam and steel, no color at all, reminding me of prisoners on chain gangs I’ve only seen in movies, defeated men hammering spikes into rails, the burly guards watching over them? Those whistles give loneliness and departure a voice. It is the kind of loneliness I can take in my arms, tasting of tears that comfort even as they burn, dampening the pillows and all the feathers of all the geese who were plucked to fill them. Perhaps I embrace the music of departure — song without lyrics, so I can learn to love it, though I don’t love it now. For at the end of the story, when sky and clouds and grass, and even you my love of so many years, have almost disappeared, it will be all there is left to love. — Linda Pastan, from Queen of a Rainy Country) More about Nazim Hikmet here, and a warm thank you to Starting Out Fresh for posting it.

[via Alive On All Channels]

[shittyartestries]

In New York City, it’s always a rare blessing to see the sparkle of even a single star. It doesn’t get dark here. Even in the small hours of the morning, the sky remains illuminated by the thousands of blinking lights below—of the cars, of the buildings, of the houses. The lights reflect on the clouds, on the heavens themselves, turning them gray or an ugly muddy brown. There is no night in New York City, at least not in Manhattan. Queens can be different. On cold, moonless nights in Ozone Park, the stars come back to dance with me. At my bedside against the window, the stars twinkle and bathe me in a sleepy light. They’re pale and neutered, but I know they’re the same ones I see in my dreams. When I was younger, eight or nine, they visited me every night. When I lived in Punjab, in India, with my Nani and Nanu. When I had no worries. No cares. In the afternoons, I ran endlessly through the streets with my cousins, playing chicklets or pakdam pakdai. I never wanted to stop, so I didn’t. I ran and laughed and played. But when the light of the sun dimmed, we all collapsed in a pile in front of our house. Out came Bruno, a fuzzy black friend, to get his daily pats from the neighborhood kids. As we retired to the rooftop, we all laid in silence, altogether under the net of stars. Mendy and Boozi, our family dogs, whined softly, ready for bed. Our chests heaved, our hearts pounded, our feet ached, and our eyes grew tired. Cold breezes and hard concrete kept me always on my toes. Now though, it was worth it. My hands were a pillow behind my head and I watched the countless stars as they spread out in a never-ending array before me. The Milky Way was so radiant and bright, Hai Ram, it cast a shadow and my legs stretched ten feet. In these moments I was, without a doubt, the tallest girl in the world. With my head in the heavens, how could I not be? Drunk in starlight, I blink and I am back in the city. Years passed by; I find myself an adult, no longer a child. My head lies crooked on my windowsill once more. Tonight is one of those rare and lucky nights. I can see the sky from my bed. Three scattered stars blink back at me and this time the moon smiles at me too. They remember the moments we shared.

-

[femmefatal-elusive]

She isn’t asleep but she’s always dreaming.

Dreaming with her eyes wide open.

Sometimes it’s hard to keep focus on conversations with her family and small group of friends. It’s hard for her to live in reality because reality is so… fake

Filled with fake people working fake jobs with fake smiles plastered on their fake filler filled lips. People who smile in your face and gossip behind your back. People who tell you everything will be okay when they know it probably won’t. People who laugh with you but look confused when your heart aches and you need someone to cry to. People who go on social media and post “check on your strong friends” but only surround themselves with people who have false personalities and live their lives through instagram stories, posting perfect pictures with lyrics from their favorite song (actually their favorite influencers favorites songs, at least that’s what their favorite IG model posted but she’s probably in her apartment in NY wondering why her vagina is burning after sleeping with her 10th sugar daddy, not that there’s anything wrong with SW or Sugar Daddy’s, just that she only heard a snippet of that song while walking to her local grocery store to buy a 3rd plan B and she snapped a photo of her coffee with the lyrics captioned “I have this on repeat” it’s all fake , is what I’m saying.” Ignoring their closest friends cries for help through unanswered texts who are drowning in their own thoughts, much like Sakiyah. But that’s killing the vibe and ruining the soft girl aesthetic. So they never reach out, and the strong friends end up on the other side of life.

Sakiyah sighed a long drawn out sigh. She felt her throat rumble as she groaned, yawning she rolled over onto her pillow; stretching her long brown limbs into the air then letting them go and dropping them lazily into a cloud of fuzzy blankets. Her queen sized bed was her happy place, with its soft silk almond colored sheets , that almost match the color of her eyes. Her fluffy pillows of all shapes and sizes and colors. She found her most elusive dreams happened here. Snuggled up in her safe haven. Her door closed and the world shut out. Just her and her breath and sometimes her cat, Olive. With her eyes wide open, she’d stare at the ceiling and think of how life could be if she actually ever had a chance to feel alive. She looked at her phone and realized an hour had past since she got in from her day job.

She worked in an office filled with people who looked nothing like her. They were all pale skinned, and blonde hair and she was all dark with a head full of curls that only grew upward toward the son and rarely rested upon her shoulders. Although she looked nothing like them she still felt she belonged in a since, at the top eating lunch with CEOs from New York and meeting businesswomen from all over the US. Laughing over mounds of paperwork with a new colleague who transferred from California, or a small town Floridian woman who knew all the latest celebrity news. She never thought she’d end up a secretary for an elite head executive of a woman-owned retail company. But she was just happy to have a steady flow of income. Her real dream was to not have to work at all. To explore the worlds deepest caves and highest mountains, to swim in the ocean or lay under the sun with a pina coloda in her hand on an island with a name she hardly could pronounce. These were some of the things she would imagine she could do if she had financial freedom and the will to do as she please without societal pressure to live the American dream. She could meet new people, laugh with strangers, and maybe even find a soulmate. Because surely, he or she couldn’t exist in New Jersey. Although she worked with women and stood for all things feminism she still felt out of place every where anywhere and nowhere at the same time. She couldn’t put her finger on what her life was missing but the lack of it had put a burning desire in her to dig deep and find out exactly why she’d been so sad, dreaming more than usual, using books to escape her life. She’d even become dazed during work meetings. She was diagnosed with ADHD and adjustment disorder at a young age. She’d never seemed to get control of her dreaming. She just knew it felt like her head was the only place she could feel free. Free to think what she thought and be who she was.

“Ding…ding…ding” she heard her microwave go off in the kitchen and hopped up quickly as the smell of slightly burnt popcorn filled her small apartment. She quickly ran down the hall and accidentally stumbled on Olive’s tale “Yeerrrr!” The cat screeched and ran “I’m sorry Papa, you stay under my feet though” she rolled her eyes and popped open the microwave.

Because of her odd habits it was hard for her to keep friends. She would do her best to stay in contact with those closest to her but it became harder on a daily basis up just be “normal”. Her life was missing something, or someone and she was determined to find it.

To be continued …

Q#freestylewriting #newjersey #writingexcercise #read #book #writer #Shortstory #Random

[lobster-tales]

Lux's Adventures in Underland

Rating: Mature CW: Body horror mention, attempt of self-harm Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 This work is available here on AO3

Chapter 7: The Caterpillar's Tale

Lux, who had rather enjoyed flying these last several times, now found no pleasure in it. Even the exciting rise of her stomach felt empty as the Gryphon landed in the grass beside the tea party.

Caitlyn the Hatter rose from the table, shouting in unison with Jayce the Hare and Vi the Dormouse, "No room! No room!"

Lux ignored them, slipping from the Gryphon's back and staggering towards Caitlyn.

"Your majesty!" Caitlyn said, meeting her halfway. Her tone was different: comical, even, lacking it's usual severity. Caitlyn's eyes were unfocused, hazy. Mad. "We weren't expecting you for tea, your diamond-ness! Let us- oof!"

Lux threw herself into Caitlyn's arms, sobbing into her shoulder.

A moment of confusion passed before Caitlyn seized her, muttering, "Lux, my God, I'm so sorry, I... I didn't remem- what's the matter?" She led Lux to the chair at the table's head, barking, "Jayce! Napkin, now!"

Lux sniffled into the tea-stained napkin, the others crowding around her as she explained the morning's events through her tears. At the beginning of the lament, their eyes were clouded and hazy, but gradually cleared as she went on, the madness draining from their faces. Partway through, Viktor the Cat appeared as well, curling up on Lux's lap and graciously allowing her to pet his back while she spoke.

When she was finished, she wept again into Caitlyn's shoulder. "I'm just so confused," she said between choked sobs. "I thought- I thought if I just kept going along with it all, I'd understand, but... I'm so confused."

Caitlyn and the others exchanged glances. Vi hopped down onto Lux's leg, placing a tiny paw on her hand. "It's time you saw the Caterpillar."

❤︎ ♢ ❤︎ ♢ ❤︎ ♢ ❤︎ ♢ ❤︎ ♢ ❤︎ ♢ ❤︎ ♢ ❤︎ ♢ ❤︎ ♢

The Gryphon carried them all to the Caterpillar's garden, Viktor around Lux's shoulders and Vi tucked in the ribbon on Caitlyn's top hat. Among the talking flowers, Lux, Caitlyn and Jayce ate tea cookies to shrink down, matching Vi's height of approximately three inches. Viktor was the only one to remain his regular size, parading behind them with his tail held high.

The flowers were rather rude, all debating the various types of foliage that the ensemble could be (Jayce was rather put off being diagnosed as a rabbit succulent: "I'm a hare, for God's sake, it's different.").

The Caterpillar was still sitting on his large mushroom, hookah in hand. As they approached, his fuzzy blue mustache lifted in a smile. "Ah, and who are you?"

"You know us, Heimerdinger," Caitlyn said, cutting straight to the point. "We need to talk."

Lux frowned at the name: something about it was oddly familiar, like a name she had read once in a paper and had a solid chuckle over. Jayce noticed her expression, and whispered, "Dean Heimerdinger. He runs the university that Viktor and I go to."

"Well well," said Heimerdinger the Caterpillar, indignantly placing all sets of hands on his long body. "Aren't we all business, Hatter."

"This is Lux," and Caitlyn brought her forward.

"Ah, so I've heard." He peered at her through his monocle. "The Queen of Diamonds herself."

Lux, embarrassed, smoothed out her patterned skirt. Last night, the title had felt so important. Now it felt like a curse, trapping her like everyone else. "Your blue-ness," and she curtsied. "I... I followed your advice. I went to the cellar."

"And?"

Lux relayed her experience once more, while Heimderdinger listened, throwing in the occasional sympathetic nod. She finished by saying, "And I'm just rather confused, that's all. No one seems to be able to tell me what's really going on here."

He took a great puff of the hookah, the smoke billowing above his head in concentric rings. "I do apologize, my dear," he sighed. "The curse prevents us from speaking about it in plain terms. We discovered, far too late, that the only way around it is if we tell the story through rhyme."

Rhyme. Of all the characters in Underland, she realized that Heimderdinger and Vander Lane had been the only ones who rhymed. "I see."

"Therefore I was charged with composing the tale." The corner of Heimerdinger's mustache twitched. "Not to brag, my dear, but I am quite the poet."

The group guided Lux to a soft mushroom to sit, all gathering around her as Heimerdinger took another long toke from his hookah. This time when the smoke rose, it shaped itself into images, first a large figure, whom Lux recognized as Vander Lane the ghost-man.

"Vander Lane was once a fighter Who led a revolution. But faced with the cost of war He sought out retribution."

The smoke shifted and changed shape, splitting to create four new figures.

"He took four children for his own Their families torn apart, Gave them food and hearth and home And all the love in his heart."

The figures became more distinct, and Lux followed along as each was introduced.

"The oldest was named Violet, The lead role of the cast. The boys were Mylo and Claggor And blue-haired Powder was the last.

The older three adventured And tangled in many a fight Young Powder would wait at home Until they returned each night

Powder wanted to join her siblings As they all ran amok But the boys didn't want her joining See, Powder had bad luck

Violet, though, protested And brought Powder along with them And during one of these raids Powder found a glowing gem."

The smoke children obeyed the stanzas. Powder's shape held a small light in her hand.

"She had no idea what she'd found Of course she couldn't know That magic was sitting in her palm Gave the gem that eerie glow

Powder had an inventor's mind So she tested the gem til, at last, The gem responded to her With a terrible... fiery blast."

The smoke figures exploded in a huff of air, startling Lux. Her jaw dropped at the hazy carnage, Powder standing small and alone at the center.

"The blast killed her father Vander And her brothers died as well. Violet was blamed for the murders And sent off to a prison cell."

Lux let out small gasps with each horrible line. So that was how Vander the ghost-man died. And his sons... She shuddered.

Heimerdinger continued, solemn,

"Powder, alone now, was taken in By her father's greatest foe. He was called Silco the industrialist And he loved dear Powder so."

The figure of a thin man leaned down and embraced the smoke-child.

"Years passed under his care And Powder's curiosity only grew She kept studying the gem Whose magic studied her, too."

As Heimderdinger went on, a now grown Powder leaned over a desk, fingers brushing tendrils of light that emanated from the glowing orb.

"You see, magic lives and breathes And consumes what it can find Dear Powder was the perfect meal Because of her curious mind.

Silco saw the toll on his daughter The madness starting to spread And decided to separate her "You'll be sent abroad," he said."

The Powder figure hurled a tea tray, and Lux flinched instinctively. It reminded her too much of...

"Now Powder didn't like this, She refused to leave her endeavor, So even though she was sent away She returned, obsessed as ever."

Silco brought her to the station And begged her to go back But Powder cried and shoved him And he fell on the railroad track."

The scene obeyed. Silco's thin frame crumpled beneath the platform, a bright light approaching, Powder watching helplessly above.

"She ought to help him up, she thought But Powder froze instead. The train was coming, too fast to stop And when it did Silco lost his head."

Lux clapped her hand over her mouth, squeezing her eyes shut just before the smoke-train reached Silco's body. When she opened them, the smoke-train had disappeared, leaving only a small, hunched over Powder.

"She'd lost her fathers and brothers And sister all in kind So then she lost the only thing She had left to lose: her mind."

Smoke Powder screamed, light cracking from inside her chest, consuming her.

"Her grief mixed with the magic And took a terrible toll Created a world from her childhood Where she could be in control.

And to protect those that she loved, She brought each to her domain And trapped them here to keep them From ever feeling pain."

Lux waited for more, but Heimerdinger simply took one long toke of his hookah, meeting her eyes sadly.

She realized they were all watching her, Caitlyn, Jayce... Vi.

Lux approached Vi slowly and took her paws in her hands: Vi's head was bowed in shame and sorrow. "Violet," Lux breathed. "You're Violet, Vander's daughter." Tears welled up in her eyes. "And Powder..."

They were all silent, unmoving. Lux saw them, then, the horror of what their lives had become. Swallowed in the grief of one lost child, forced into madness against their will.

The gravity of the situation was overwhelming, dragging her down into hopelessness. What possible way could they escape? And even if they could find a way, would the Queen... Powder, even let them?

But she had to try.

Lux squared her shoulders, gathered her courage. "Our croquet game never ended," she said firmly. "I never lost to the Queen."

The group exchanged glances, unsure what she was getting at.

"Viktor," and Lux went to him, pressing her tiny face against his forehead. "Go to the Queen. Tell her to meet me at the chessboard battlefield at sunset."

"Sunset?" asked Caitlyn. "You really think she'd let it be night again?"

"She will," Lux said. "For me." She kissed Viktor's nose. "Go."

He purred, loudly, then disappeared.

❤︎ ♢ ❤︎ ♢ ❤︎ ♢ ❤︎ ♢ ❤︎ ♢ ❤︎ ♢ ❤︎ ♢ ❤︎ ♢ ❤︎ ♢

Lux spent the rest of the afternoon alone, exploring the chessboard battlefield. What had looked like castle ruins from above, she saw now were incomplete structures, pillars and floors that lay cut off at jagged angles. She first climbed through the maroon ruins, intended for the Red Queen's domain, then the white marble of the White Queen's. The latter was more polished, and she found stairs that led to a platform, likely what was meant to be a tower.

Lux took a seat there, watching the sky. She had been so confident in front of the others, but the truth was that she had no idea what would happen. After the cellar incident, Jinx might change her mind entirely, decide that she was too much of a liability. She could always transform Lux into something else, perhaps the duchess's pig-baby or the mock turtle.

She waited. There was no looking at the sun, of course, which made it difficult to tell if it was moving at all. So Lux looked at the shadows instead, marking in the dust the height of one half-formed pillar. After what felt like an appropriate time, she checked again, and saw with a mixture of delight and fear that the shadow had lengthened.

The horizon grew orange. The sun dipped, slowly, casting the clouds in hues of gold.

The air shifted, and Lux said aloud, "It really is beautiful."

There was a moment of stillness, before footsteps scuffed behind her, skirts shuffling as the person sat.

Lux turned to face her Queen. Jinx looked horrid, dark eye makeup dried in running streams down her cheeks. Her braids, which had kept so tidy, now puffed and tried to escape their binds. Even her small crown had grown, circling the entirety of her head, the spikes elongated higher.

They gazed at each other, neither speaking. The sun finished setting behind Lux, the shadows dissolving. The twilight sky was lavender above them.

"What do you want?" Jinx said finally.

Lux reached a hand out to her. "I wanted to see you."

"You want something." Her voice was venom. "If all you wanted was to see me, you would have come to the castle."

"Under the circumstances," Lux murmured. "I was quite nervous about returning to the castle. I thought you might chop my head off."

Jinx flinched. "I still might."

"If that were true, you would have tried it already."

She reminded Lux of a snared rabbit, shifting constantly, eyes wide. "You want something," she spat. "I can feel it."

"You're right," Lux admitted. "We... we never finished our game."

"So that's it?" she said, disbelieving. "That's what you want, croquet?" Her lips curled into a sneer, "You know I was winning, right? You'd be trapped here either way."

"So be it," said Lux solemnly. At that, Jinx stilled, her eyebrow cocked in curiosity. Lux had seized her attention. "I want to play a new game, with different stakes."

"... What stakes?"

"If you win, this all stays the same. I'll come live with you in the castle, be your Queen of Diamonds. The sun will never set again, we'll never sleep or dream, and we can live here forever in bliss."

Jinx's eyes widened just slightly, hopeful, before she remembered herself and narrowed them. "And if you win?"

"Then you let us go," Lux whispered. "All of us return to the real world... you included."

She scoffed, which was the reaction Lux expected. Jinx rose to her feet and began to pace back and forth, arms folded across her chest. "I'll never leave Underland."

"You must, Jinx." Lux stood, too, but kept her distance. "One day, you must return."

"No!" The shout echoed off the stone. "I can't. I can't go back." She ran her hands along her arms, pacing faster. "You don't know what I've done, Lux. Back there, I'm a monster. I've hurt people, I've kill-" Her voice caught on the last word and broke. She covered her mouth with her hand, squeezing her eyes shut.

"I know," said Lux, approaching her slowly, like one might approach a wild animal. "I know what happened. And I know it was an accident."

"No, it wasn't! I- I did that to him, it was my fault!" Jinx faced her, her braids whipping forward. "I was the one who- I'll never let that happen again. I'll never let anyone get hurt because of me."

"But Jinx, you can't keep them trapped here."

"They're not trapped! I'm saving them." She snapped her fingers, creating a silver dagger and stabbing it into her abdomen. Lux cried out, but saw that Jinx was completely unharmed, the dagger dissolving into dust. "See? Nothing can hurt them here. Everyone is safe. Everyone is alive."

"But is it really living," asked Lux. "Or is it just... not dying?"

"I'm protecting them!"

"From what?"

"From everything!" Her shoulders heaved as she glared at Lux. "You... you can't take them. The world out there is evil, and wrong. Here, they can't get hurt, can't go hungry."

The night darkened around them, the stars winking above.

"But what is the good of a full belly all the time if you can never know hunger?" Lux murmured. "Why drink tea if you never feel thirst, or feel grateful for a sound body if you can never be in pain?"

She was closer to Jinx now, who took a small step back. But Lux kept walking towards her, saying, "If the night never comes, then how can you know the beauty of the moon and the stars? Without the unknown, how can you feel fear, and without fear, how do you find courage?" Lux took her shaking hands, drawing them to her. "Without sleep, how can you dream?"

"But all I have are nightmares," Jinx choked out, avoiding her gaze.

"Nightmares are still dreams," Lux said, pressing her lips to Jinx's knuckles. "Like it or not, they are a part of you, and denying them is denying yourself, Jinx." And then, quieter, she whispered, "Powder."

Jinx tensed beneath her. "Don't."

Lux obeyed, and murmured, "If you cannot die, then how can you live?"

Her pink eyes gazed mournfully at Lux, filling with tears. "They died. All of them. I lost them all."

"I know. I'm sorry."

She looked so small then. It was hard to believe that much grief could fit inside such a small person. "My fathers... my brothers..."

"You still have a sister," Lux said gently. "And she loves you. Despite everything, she loves you, and she always will. And Ekko loves you too. He just wants you to be happy again. Not happy like this, where you pretend everything is fine, but truly happy, once you've let your grief in and allowed yourself to feel it." She kissed her knuckles again. "Both Viktor and Heimerdinger adore you: they think you're brilliant. And I'm sure in time, Jayce and Caitlyn will love you too."

"They won't forgive me," Jinx said in a shuddering breath. "How could they after all this."

"You'll never know if you don't let them go."

The twilight had given way to darkness. The moon, still in it's crescent shape, smiled down upon them. Crickets chirped in the grass and at the edge of the forest, fireflies had begun their twinkling dance.

Jinx lowered her forehead onto Lux's shoulder, wrapping her arms around her waist. They stood linked for a long time, breathing each other in, enjoying each other's warmth.

"There's one last thing," Jinx said, sniffling. "That I want to show you." She stepped back, gazed into the dark. Her pink eyes glowed, brighter and brighter, and her fingers sparked when she snapped.

The platform groaned beneath them, the loose stones around rumbling into place. The pillars rose, the marble forming into branches that held up a domed glass ceiling. The circular room surrounded them, furniture appearing along the rising curved walls.

Lux blinked and the room was complete. She gasped at the sight of a large, rectangular object against one side. "A bed," she said, delighted.

Sweat beaded on Jinx's forehead from the effort, and she wiped it away. "The first, and last, of it's kind."

The tension of the moment released, slowly. Lux took note of Jinx's obvious exhaustion, as well as her own. Now, with the comfort of the room spread around them, Lux wanted so badly to leap onto the rich blue duvet, to drag Jinx down with her, kiss her senseless. But she was frozen in place, still uncertain.

Jinx hesitated, then reached for her hand, entwining fingers. "Tomorrow, we'll finish the game. But for tonight, maybe we can just... be?"

Lux smiled, relieved, and kissed Jinx, softly, cradling her jaw.

They were gentle with each other at first, Jinx afraid of being too rough, Lux afraid of provoking her. The trust returned slowly, one kiss, one sigh at a time. Lux tugged on one of Jinx's gloves, careful in removing it, and when Jinx allowed this, Lux removed the other, then massaged the skin that had been covered by the fabric.

Lux's fingers drifted to the corset at Jinx's chest, undoing the ribbon there languidly, taking her time to loosen the cloth. Soon, the dress was pooled around Jinx's feet, leaving only the black chemise.

As Lux made to remove the chemise, Jinx's fingers snatched her wrists, and for a moment, Lux feared she had gone too far. But instead, Jinx simply murmured, "Turn around so I can undo yours."

When Jinx's fingers found the dress's top button, Lux flinched. She forced herself to calm down, to allow Jinx to undo the buttons, one by one, until the dress fell from her hips. Unlike Jinx, she was only wearing a slip underneath, her chest bare. They faced each other and shared another kiss, then another, each one growing in hunger. Jinx's fingers undid the slip's ribbon, and Lux shivered when she was naked. The fear gave way to desire, her pulse quickening at the thought of being undone again.

"Lay down," Jinx whispered, and Lux obeyed, sprawling on the great duvet.

Jinx kissed both of her ankles, then her calves, climbing up to her thighs.

"Wh-what are you doing?" Lux asked breathlessly, feeling intimidated. She found herself wishing that she had spent more time researching the art of lovemaking, as Jinx appeared to be more learned than her.

But when Jinx met her eyes, she saw doubt there. "I... I read it in a book once." Lux frowned. "What book?"

A sly smirk tilted Jinx's lips, which pressed against Lux's inner thigh. "One I shouldn't have been reading."

Lux's playful scoff was interrupted by a sharp gasp, her hips bucking towards Jinx's open mouth.

The sensation was unlike anything Lux had ever experienced, bringing her so much pleasure that she felt guilty: surely something that could bring her this close to heaven must be a sin. She cried out in mere seconds, shuddering against Jinx's tongue, and yet Jinx seized her thighs and kept her from pulling away, intent on taking her over the edge again and again.

"I'm sorry," Jinx moaned, muffled against her center, flicking her tongue in between repeats of, "I'm sorry."

When Lux could bear it no longer, her legs trembling so violently that she feared she would fall apart, she finally forced Jinx away. Lux propped herself up on her elbows, breath coming raggedly as she returned from the height of ecstasy.

Jinx shot her a wicked grin from between her thighs, her chin wet with glisten. She licked her lips, humming in lewd satisfaction.

Lux gasped, "You must allow me to borrow that book."

Jinx laughed, a high cackle that made her sound like a schoolgirl. Lux adored that laugh, adored how it revealed her as the young woman she really was, not the mad queen she was pretending to be.

She pulled Jinx close, kissing her fiercely, not out of lust, but out of devotion. Any doubts Lux had were gone. She knew without any hint of hesitation that regardless of the next day's outcome, the two of them would always be together from then on. She knew this because there was no other path, no other option. Lux could not let her go and never would, even if it meant damning herself to magic and madness.

Because Jinx was worth damnation.

Lux returned the favor, over and over, greedily discovering every sound, every mewl she could illicit from her queen. She licked and sucked and even scraped her teeth against her once, treasuring Jinx's keen. Lux made Jinx hers again and again, her claim assured by every moan, every hiss of desire.

Complete satisfaction never came: after every short rest between heights, fingers would wander, followed by lips, and the two would be entwined again, bringing each other more pleasure than either had been allowed all their lives.

"My queen," Lux sighed against Jinx's bare shoulder.

"My queen," Jinx chuckled into Lux's neck.

They escaped for one night, indulged in the fantasy, lived in a world where there was only the two of them, the massive bed beneath and the grinning moon above.