#i drew a bird ONCE and i didn't love how it turned out

[science-lings]

I wish I knew how to draw birds bc I have so many ideas for how I want Phoenix!Phoenix and Phoenix!Ryunosuke to look but animals in general are hard and I feel like I can never quite get the results that I want no matter how much I try and one of these days it's going to drive me crazy

[s1llydr3amscape]

Maybe it was the friends we made along the way!

My security breach cast re-imagined when we first got the posters and merch leaks!!! I changed them into ocs because after seeing their in game designs I fell in love <33333

Another reason why Vanny is my fave is because I don't have to design her clothes /j

Extras and ramblings under the cut :

Zoomed in because I drew them on the same canvas like a goober :

Many reasons why I chose to make the way it is are cause hehehehe

-I didn't like Roxy at first because off that funko leak being a reused model of Foxy. So I made her a hyena recolor using his model because I think they're cool, yet I still kept the fact she's the shortest because of Foxy in fnaf 1 being the shortest!!! And it did sorta happen with her being his replacement 😭She has short hair because I think one of her main appeals would be she would change up her hair every other week.

-Freddy is a moon bear because I miss Lefty. Also cuz I thought Fazbear Ent developed enough technology so that they could change colors during the night/dark like in the posters making them blacklight/neon. Also once again I miss Lefty and Also Nightmare. He had blue eyes freaky like that because I think FazEnt was developing new technologies to recognize guests by having their main stars test them out. And it did happen in the game so yay!!!

-I genuinely didn't think Bonnie would show up because off the leaks but at the time everyone designed their own version off him and so did I!!! I made him white and brown as a homage to Vannys help wanted mask. The blue streaks in his hair also relates to my Vanessa design. Reasons for this is because with how advanced the AI it was to trick them into thinking they were eachother friends. Why because the heartbreak would've been catastrophic.

-Chica didn't change much but I added brown because I love the color brown it is my top 1 color with purple following behind. Also because I love gradients I fucking love gradients you bet your ass if I add gradients I could <333 She has feather hair like that because off Big Bird I saw in a short fnaf sesame street horror yt video and that scared and gave me nightmares because of this one scene of a lady giving birth to his kid??? Idk it scared me alot. She's my favorite tho <3333

-Monty didn't change except he had circular glasses because I wanted him to match with Roxy as the newest additions to the Fazbear brand!!! Also man I wish one of them was a drummer but I couldn't decide between if Roxy or Monty would get it. I also didn't know Roxanne would be racing and gave her rock climbing. Reasons cause imagining her chasing you being able to climb walls would be scary. My only wish Is that I made his snout longer I want you to be able to hold it like a weapon

-They all have eyelashes because I think that is epic!!!

-Freddy is the tallest. Bonnie and Chica are the same height and Roxanne is the shortest

Might redraw them in my oc world version (if anyone would be interested it's basically also a robot story with my old fnaf oc's now turned rivals to Fazbear Entertainment) and not simplified but my other wips need me they are calling for me they are telling me to finish them and I must!!! Probably

And here's my older art after we got to see the game and the designs are wack oughhh :

They would've fought with my pink yellow blue Vanny design!!! Which is the only one I redesigned because I love Vanny to much... You can see her pre-design here and oughh Pink Vanny <3333

-If you look closely Vanny has a Dino looking tail!!! And that's because I thought hey imagine each time we defeated an animatronic she'd sew a piece off their body onto her suit! So when we killed Monty she'd scavenged and get his tail!!! With Chica she got her chicken feet!! And with Roxanne she gets her teeth!!!

-Why because I associate her with Pinkamena cupcakes so much. Also to add onto my previous statement with Bonnie looking like her old mask. She changed her suit in the final act to solidify herself as the bad guy (final boss) who had been using the animatronics for his own gain.

-Man I never draw Chica with her head bow now that I think abt it same with Vanny's whiskers god what was I thinking!!!

Also sorry they're oddly cropped I watermark my stuff to remember what year I made them in and my old username is bad 💀

[strawbabysimp]

Locked In || Dom!Murasakibara x Reader

Genre: Smut, Dark Content

Category: Dom!Murasakibara x GN!Sub!Reader

Warning(s): Fingering, Non-Con, Manipulation Tactics, Unhealthy Attachment, Penetration

Request(s): "hello! I love your knb stuff and was wondering if you could write a noncon, rough and I mean ROUGH murasakibara x reader smut, taking place in a locker room, right after practice? Some propts i'd like to see are, dirty talk, humiliation and degradation. If you are uncomfortable or want to scratch out any part of this request, feel free to do so! Hope you are interested in writing this <3 Happy new year!"

"Please can you make a heavy smut with Murasakibara"

A/N: I had to repost because Tumblr posted it half-done but shout-out to @twilight-blu3 for one of my all-time favorite requests. I'm really thankful for all those in my inbox there to inspire me and the way you wrote your request SPOKE TO ME, I ADORE YOU

You always thought he looked so graceful, his arms like the wingspan of a bird, soaring across the court in grandeur. He drew you in. You found yourself going to games outside of home, cheering him on from the sidelines as he blocked the other team's plays effortlessly, then smiling as you watched him snack innocently between playing time.

This was the night. You were finally going to confess. Another win for your team at their home game was a sign of good fortune, you thought to yourself.

You approached the locker room with anxious fervor - it was now or never.

All the other members had left but Murasakibara had been rushed with cameras and fellow fans before he had the chance to get to the locker room. You ignored the slightly stale smell of the space and sat down on one of the benches. You weren't supposed to be in here but you figured if you caught him before he was changing then there was no harm in the location (it would be a little weird to confess to him while he was half-naked, no matter how welcome the sight would be).

Think of the Devil. Murasakibara walked through the swinging doors, his steps heavy and echoing in the near-empty room. You fiddled with your hands as you slowly turned toward the direction you figured he'd come through.

You spotted purple strands high above your own head before you took note of the rest of him. He spotted you quickly. When your eyes reached his face he was already meeting your gaze.

"What are you doing here?" He questioned apathetically.

"I wanted to give you this."

Your hands held out a box of chocolates neatly wrapped with a bow, a traditional way of confessing. He hesitated in accepting but decided to fairly quick.

Murasakibara didn't eat the treats yet, opting to hold them between his large fingers instead as he peered at you waiting for more.

"Why?"

"I like you Murasakibara."

His eyes remained the same but you thought you saw his lips twinge upwards for a moment.

He approached you slowly, stopping once he was directly in front of you. The man didn't say anything, studying you for a moment. Murasakibara broke your gaze, unraveling the box's ribbon gracefully before plopping one onto his tongue faster than your anxious mind could process.

"I accept," the object of your affections stated simply. You couldn't believe the words. His emotionless expression made it even harder to trust the sincerity of his acceptance.

As your mind raced, he reached out for you, encompassing your body in his arms, tucking you against him.

"What?" You breathed.

"Isn't this what couples do?"

You smiled away from his gaze, enjoying the security of his chest when suddenly he turned you around to face the lockers.

"Murasaki-"

He cut you off. "Isn't this what couples do as well?" The purple-haired giant goaded.

You felt the bulge of his balls make contact with the top of your ass cheeks as he forced himself against you.

Your eyes widened in shock. You hadn't been expecting such an act by him, and weren't welcoming to his sudden change in demeanor. It was unfamiliar and frightening.

"Wait, can we just talk for a second?" You pleaded with the locker that pressed against your cheek.

“I thought you wanted to be with me? Was I wrong?” The towering man asked innocently.

Red flags flashed in your mind but you had wanted him for so long, you should feel grateful for his touch.

“I do,” you mumbled, your nerves restricting your throat, making it hard to move in general. Your body felt hot in all the wrong ways. It shouldn't be like this, you found yourself thinking.

"Good," he whispered against your ear, lips grazing the flesh in a taunting manner. You felt him grind deeper against the cusp of your ass and gasped.

His fingers made quick work of your pants, pulling them down along with your underwear. Murasakibara pulled your ass cheeks apart to gaze at you unabashedly. You felt your face heat up beyond what you thought was possible and a deep shame formed in your belly.

You felt him move back from you, shuffling his own clothes. You were still too immobile to glance behind you, face no-doubt marked by the locker's cruel edges.

"How long have you wanted to me with me," he asked, the ego clear in his voice.

"I've always been a fan of yours, since your middle school days. I always thought you were beautiful," you told the truth, no point in secrets as his cock tip graced your entrance.

You shuddered at the thought of the sudden intrusion before a sudden giggle caught you off guard.

"I'm not that cruel Y/N."

Your eyes widened. "How do you know my name?"

"You think I wouldn't notice the same person at every one of my games, arriving early and leaving late. I got curious and asked around."

You blushed at his words, ashamed of your own desperation now.

"No matter, I found your loyalty cute - in a pathetic sort of way."

Wettened fingers were inside you before you had time to process, the sting of the two large digits stretching your hole out painfully and fast.

"Ahhhhh!"

You screamed against the metal, your arm reaching back in an attempt to grasp his wrist. He didn't allow you to, his quick limbs halting your attempts and holding you in place with ease.

You felt him twist the digits inside of you, presumably his spit easing the way despite your body's resistance. You groaned as tears sprung to your eyes.

"It's okay to be loud," you heard the smile in his words, "I blocked the doors before we started."

You felt hope you didn't know you had leave your body. This was it. You were going to be raped by the man you had nothing but love for.

You had been so stupid.

"You're so tight. Never done it before? Or am I just that big?"

Your hole clenched down on his hand and you heard a sinister laugh from the man behind you.

"So needy," Murasakibara mumbled apprehensively, "I guess I'll have to do something about that."

You felt his fingers leave you and this time you heard the wet sound of him lubing up his dick. You gathered your last bit of will to meet his eyes, but he wasn't looking at you - only at your parts.

He intended to use you to your fullest extent and you knew it.

"Please don't," you whispered.

"Don't? You wanted me so bad before and now you're changing your mind? Don't be selfish, it's too late for that."

He grasped the back of your skull with ease, turning you back to face the locker. You squeezed your eyes shut but they burst open when you felt the first inch of his cock enter you.

"You're so tight," he moaned, "you're gonna tear it off at this rate."

His humorous comment gave you no amusement and you felt your body tighten further as he sunk deeper into you.

"Almost there," he said in a comforting tone. With one final push, he was balls deep in you, his fingers digging into your hips as he pulled your ass up in the air to accommodate his height.

Never giving you much time to adjust, Atsushi began a steady pace of harsh slaps against your flesh as he pulled you apart on his dick.

It wasn't long before he fell apart himself, heavy breathes parting the hair on the back of your scalp as he huffed into the strands. You felt your wetness grow, his cum spilling out into you adding to the lubrication.

He pulled out with a wet noise, the emptiness only increasing as his seed soon began to spill down your thighs.

"I guess accepting your confession has its perks, right?"

Tears stained your cheeks, face still hidden against the locker.

"See you at the next game."

[bedoballoons]

Hello I suddenly had a idea since it's October

And thought of the anemo boys finding out that

Reader is a werewolf because of a full moon

Ahhh apologies you didn't get this in october! I hope you still enjoy the idea though because I loved writing it! Thank you for your request! <3

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ🍂𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ🍂

{༻~Awoooo~༺}

CW: Slight fear in the characters, reader is a werewolf, fluffy in most but angst in Wanderers!! Xiao has a bird form!!

(Includes: Venti, Kazuha, Heizou, Wanderer, and Xiao!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Venti:

"Are...are you okay?" Venti reached a hand out to you, his face pale and body shaking with the cold of the spooky night. He could barely make out your shadow in the light of the full moon, you were groaning in pain...body shifting before his eyes in ways his brain didn't know how to handle. "H-hello?"

Your head turned, no longer that of a humans, but of a ravage beast with almost glowing yellow eyes and sharp teeth. He was petrified in place, unable to move even a inch as you drew closer... you could never hurt him...you wanted him to know it was okay. "I'm...not dangerous...I swear."

He fell to the ground, back against the tree as you closed the distance, gently tapping your nose to his knee and hoping with all your heart.. he'd still accept you after finding out your big bad secret. He closed his eyes tightly, reaching out a shaky hand to touch your soft fur. Once he did he seemed to ease up...still finding the whole situation jarring, but no longer scary and definitely not enough to end what you shared.

𑁍༄Kazuha:

Kazuha was trying his best to stay calm, but seeing you in the bright moonlight with fur that ruffled in the wind and hearing your howl when you caught the look in his eyes...it was alot for him. "W-what's going on? What h-happened to you?" He had goosebumps all over his skin and his heart was pounding so loud that your sensitive ears heard it like a beating drum, but he still kneeled down in front of you...wanting not to run away...but make sure you that you were alright, even though he was scared he still cared about you.

"I'm okay...I promise. I just...don't want you to think I'm going to hurt you, just because I'm like this doesn't make me a monster..."

"I know you won't, I guess my mind got the better of me...no matter if you have claws and sharp teeth or soft hands and sweet smiles, I will always love you."

𑁍༄Heizou:

𑁍༄Wanderer:

"I knew it..."

Those words were anything but what you were expecting...had he really found out your secret before the moon had even been full. "H-how could you possibly have known? I know you're a-a detective but-"

"But I know you and I love you, so obviously I tend to notice things about you more often than you do. I wasn't entirely sure if my hypothesis could be true...I just had a inkling."

"And...do you hate me for it..?"

"Not in the slightest, you're the love of my life and if anything it just makes me all the more curious about you. I want to learn everything."

"W-what are you? Why do you look like that?" Wanderer looked at you...something almost like betrayal painted on his features while you stared back at him with wide yellow eyes,..unable to ease his feelings. "I'm...a werewolf...and I look like this because of the full moon, but I promise it's not bad. I don't want to hurt anyone or be a monster, I didn't even want you to find out..."

"I wish I hadn't."

𑁍༄Xiao:

Xiao kneeled down in front of you, his eyes meeting yours as he watched you intensely...you were shocked to see him unfazed by your change from the moon. "Xiao...you're not... surprised?" He shook his head, slowly reaching out to touch your fur as he whispered quietly under his breath, "I wouldn't say not surprised... it's more like...I understand."

"What.."

He sighed, pulling away so you could watch in awe as he changed too, his body shrinking into that of a birds and dark teal feathers now taking place of his normal skin...he was more like you than you ever could have known.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚~Have a nice day~*⁠.⁠✧

[emperor-palpaminty]

Peace, For Now

In which you (GN) and Echo discuss next steps. Takes place at the end of TBB. Sweet and fluff and a love confession on a beach??? Whaaaaat???

(also lemme know how you like the "you" vs third person reader inserts. I'm currently writing Cat and Mouse pt 4, so I'm trying to decide how I do that! I personally don't like "you" when i read, but if yall do I am flexible!)

The beach was a ways away from the middle of town, but you could still hear the sounds of celebration. Your toes dug into the sand, the gentle waves filling the holes they left behind. It was surreal. Your body felt empty and light, but also... tired.

You were done. For now.

Unanswered questions looped around your mind again. Sacrifices were made, and they could not be undone after the war. It was always hard to come to terms with, but somehow coming to terms with the end was harder, in ways. If your largest battle was finished, was it a gulp of fresh air or the finale of an aria?

What did you even know outside of war at this point? The breeze that tugged at your face promised a vague hint of hope, but...

"There you are."

You didn't bother turning all the way- you knew Echo's voice anywhere, even across a ship full of his brothers. You smiled, softer than you felt. "I needed a breather."

"I could tell." There was a soft scuff, shoe against a rock, and a soft thump that followed as Echo landed softly in the sand. "It's quieter over here, anyway." He padded over gently, moving meticulously. That was Echo as everyone knew him. Quiet and thoughtful, but brave, honorable, independent. Sassy when someone needed it, and he had a sense of humor that could appeal to everyone. Echo was loyal to a fault- dying once and then being willing to die again for the brothers that took him in.

He was legendary among clones. But he was just... Echo.

You finally cast him a glance, smiling when he met your gaze readily. After a shared moment, a pause, you chuckled and shook your head softly. "What are we, Echo?"

"What do you mean?"

You closed your eyes and tried to stead yourself. The waves were moving, lapping closer, but not quite reaching the two of you in the close moment. It was a welcome guest, but you were fine that it hadn't invaded the intimate space yet. You steeled yourself, blinking quietly as you fought off a prickle of tears at the corner of your eye. "All I've ever known- and all you've ever known, I would think- has been war. Fighting. Being soldiers." The shrug you gave was helpless.

The words hung in midair. They stayed for a while, the silence of them almost louder than the incoming tide or birds flying by. You blinked, a hand reaching up and touching your cheek to pull away with a wet tear. "Oh," You said, not quite realizing you had been crying.

Echo reached out quickly. He touched your back, the human hand landing on you. "Hey." He said. "There's no rush."

"I know, but-"

"Fighting will always exist. You'll find something to fight for." He licked his lips, brows narrowing in determination. "Tomorrow."

Your lips drew into a smile. You nodded, faith falling into place. "Yeah," You muttered, as sound returned to the world. "Tomorrow."

[malimaywrite]

gavin/freelancer | mature | wc: 7.1k

cw: mentions of childhood emotional neglect

notes: she/they freelancer, physical descriptors of characters included, non-canon backstory included, banner image from 'fall of icarus' (1607) by carlo saraceni, title taken from 'sunlight' by hozier | read on ao3 (log-in required)

It happened when they clutched tighter to him as they both lay tangled in the pale blue and yellows of their sheets. Not the kind of clutches he was used to with heavy breaths and flushed lips. No. It happened while they slept, their eyes closed as they drifted along the in between away from him. All soft and tucked away—peaceful. They shifted and curled closer. His heart fluttered. Thrummed and hummed louder than the birds that darted past the window. He furrowed his eyebrows at himself. He'd lost count how often it happened now. When had he lost count? Freelancer opened their eyes. Smiled. And the sun rose inside of him. Warming him up and beaming the longer they looked. It terrified him. /// five times Gavin meant to say 'I love you.' (Takes place from months before to the night of 'Your Dom Incubus Confesses His Feelings to You')

the icarus to your certainty (oh, my sunlight, sunlight, sunlight)

“You are wonderful, Freelancer. The light in my heart.”

It happened when they clutched tighter to him as they both lay tangled in the pale blue and yellows of their sheets. Not the kind of clutches he was used to with heavy breaths and flushed lips. No. It happened while they slept, their eyes closed as they drifted along the in between away from him. All soft and tucked away—peaceful.

They shifted and curled closer. His heart fluttered. Thrummed and hummed louder than the birds that darted past the window. He furrowed his eyebrows at himself. He'd lost count how often it happened now. When had he lost count? Freelancer opened their eyes. Smiled. And the sun rose inside of him. Warming him up and beaming the longer they looked.

It terrified him.

“Who's watching who sleep now?” Freelancer muttered, all at once too close and too far from the racing in his chest. They stretched away from him for a moment. His bare skin where their arms had been cooled.

He ignored the incessant noise beyond his rib cage and propped up a smirk.

“I'm simply primed for an early morning round,” he said.

They snorted. And his heart gave a hard thud even at that. He stilled himself with a deep breath—taking in all vanilla and shea butter. All them.

“You are greedy,” they said, dragging out the last word. Their smile widened and the sun brightened.

“I could've said the same to you last night.” He tilted his head from their pillowcase. “Or the night before or the night before.”

He found himself pulling them in closer and closer with each 'or.' Freelancer needed thicker blankets. The morning chill always managed to slip underneath their sheets was all. Pulling them closer long after they'd reached euphoria kept him warmer. That was all. He told himself so for the thousandth time, each time rang more hollow. But a couple weeks ago, he'd started to admit it was partially to stave off his least favorite part of their morning afters.

Freelancer's arm draped across him again. They buried their face just into the crook of his neck and along the pillow. He rested his chin on the cloud of their hair. His hand caught in the coils and curls there. His other trailed along their back while Freelancer's fingers drew lazy circles along his. Their chest rose and fell against him, light breaths against his collarbone.

He didn't know how long they held each other. He didn't, but worlds could have collided and Aria could have turned to stardust and he wouldn't have dared to move. He'd have gladly spent his eternity just like that. Home.

He froze. That familiar terror pinpricked along his spine again. It overwhelmed him, bubbled in the pit of his stomach. He swallowed it down. That usually helped. Freelancer's fingers stopped their art. He scrambled for a sly comment, an innuendo. Something to distract them and himself.

“You okay?” they said, pulling away. Dark brown eyes stared up. A line formed between their brows.

An instinct. He placed a kiss right along the furrow, hoping to will it away. His lips lingered for a moment. Their face soft when he met their gaze again. The gentle kindness in them. The awe that swelled in him as he followed the sharp line of their nose and curve of full lips. His heartbeat banged a loud and cascading roar in his ears.

For weeks and weeks that fear had blossomed from the smallest of seeds. Every smile, every gaze, every touch ignited it. Another swallow. It hardly helped.

One of their eyebrows rose. He finally got himself to nod. A pause. Another soft smile from them. And the sun blazed—blinded him. The sharpest terror struck him yet again and he realized its actual name, the phrase that explained it. The truest of words.

He loved them.

He loved them.

“You sure?” They curled into him again. Their turn to pull him in. “You stiffened up a bit.”

The three words echoed in his head like a song. He tried to think of another tune before the air in the room could dissipate.

“Of course, deviant,” he let out slowly. “Your naked body is pressed up against me.”

They laughed. “My naked body is pressed up against you often.”

“But 'often' surely isn't enough.”

He felt their smile against him before they rolled away with another stretch. They sat on the edge of the bed completely out of reach. There it was. There was his least favorite part of morning afters.

Freelancer checked their phone from their organized clutter of a nightstand, balked, and shot up faster than he could blink. They grabbed one of the sheets to cover themself. The three-worded song in his head played too loudly for him to conjure up a remark quick enough.

“'Often' will have to be enough,” they said. “I set it for PM, not AM.”

They grumbled at themself before darting to the bathroom in a half tiptoe, half sprint. The dragging sheet dropped before the door clicked shut. He didn't realize he'd had his own small smile on his face until the sound made it drop, until the room chilled after. The most unsteady of breaths left him as the faucet cut on beyond the door.

He loved them. He loved them with everything in him and he didn't know what to do.

///

It happened when she yelled. Or yelped, rather.

“Why are you headed towards the only other car in the parking lot?” she said. A quick and strangled laugh followed.

Gavin gripped the steering wheel—both hands, as she'd requested—and slowed their crawl of a drive across their corner of the campus lot into a near stop. Her car—Chip, named for the several paint scuffs that decorated its bumper ever since she bought the used vehicle—sat at an angle across the white lines.

“Because when I drive well,” he started slow. Wondered if he should elude the truth, slip out of reach of sincerity. “When I drive well, you stop speaking.” He failed. He wanted to hear her voice, his spellsong. Always.

Even if it only begged him to use a blinker.

A heavy pause. He'd shifted the air, stifled it of the lighthearted. He dared to look at her and her face scrunched up. Warmth radiated off of her with that small smile, blanketed and eased any twist of tension in him. Beautiful.

“What is a demon on the road to do without direction?” he said, catching the daze in his own voice.

Freelancer lifted her eyebrows. “You want me to command you.”

He'd shifted things back into place. The drop in her voice and playful twinkle in her dark brown eyes threatened to shift something else. A quick and subtle surge of sexual energy from her flowed through him, made him sit up straighter.

He smiled. “We have tried it a few times.”

He never longed to be a telepath, but the second surge that rushed through him in wave told him she took a moment to relive one of those tries in her mind. He wanted to relive it with her.

She shook her head after an audible breath. Her focus lasered in on the emptied pavement ahead of them. He loved when she did that. He caught it during her long—sometimes too long—study sessions, her eyebrows bunched as she peered over lines of text. He etched it in his mind when she squinted in the mirror, comb in hand, and she tried to part her coils for braids; when she huffed, cheeks puffed, and stirred egg whites into stiff peaks during their dessert days.

She took another heavy breath. The tiniest surge. Barely enough to taste. He held in a sly comment.

“Let's head out to the street after one more lap.” Her voice steady. “I have a reward for you if you decide to be a traffic law-abiding citizen.”

His turn to lift an eyebrow. Oh? “Yes, deviant,” Gavin said.

They'd squeezed in some driving practice between her 17th century western magic history and intermediate levitation classes over the past week. Huxley's away game meant an almost six-hour road trip over the weekend and Damien declared that everyone would contribute to the drive over and back. An agreement everyone felt comfortable with until Gavin mentioned he couldn't remember the last time he drove. Lasko's eyes had widened at that. And they only grew wider when Gavin mentioned he somehow still had a license, however.

Freelancer had offered a driving retread before the concern could spill from Lasko's pretty mouth.

Gavin hadn't quite needed the lessons—the only thing related to humans' fast-moving metal contraptions that really confused him still were roundabouts—but it meant spending more time with Freelancer. A gift he'd always receive with gratitude, with reverence. As long as their lessons didn't mean longer study sessions for her or added stress, he'd welcome it. He found himself taking a couple glances over to her as the towering thick trees and D.A.M.N. dorms whipped by to see if she did as well.

He eased to a stop at the oncoming red light, flicked on his blinker, and waited to make a right turn. Students roamed by in a flurry of school logos and heavy book bags. Once they cleared out, he headed on. The sidewalk pedestrians and bars of the university stadium entrance in the distance blurred.

Her lips pressed against his cheek. Light and quick, the softest of touches.

Heat rose along the length of his neck, simmering up to his temples and to the tips of his ears. Luckily, the next light caught them right at the line. It was a little harder to ease into that stop. What? Gavin didn't know it was possible to surprise himself.

“What?” Freelancer said.

Whiplash might have followed with how quickly he faced her. He felt the confusion on his own face. Freelancer raised an eyebrow, snorted.

“You said 'what,'” she said with a smile in her voice. She leaned forward. Looked directly at his cheek. “Are you..?” Closer.

He was. He had never before. And especially not over the most chaste of kisses.

He caused flushed cheeks—trembling hands, flubbed sentences, and ceaseless moans—out of others. Once he sensed the person's attraction to him, it could happen as easily as blinking for him. Not a single instance of nighttime rendezvous and midday flirting had someone made Gavin blush. What in all of Aria was wrong with him? A thrum, an echo, a song played in the back of his head yet again—bang, bang, banged in his chest. He ignored it. He had to. It threatened to swallow him whole.

“Deviant,” he said, all performance as the light flickered green and traffic continued on. “I have been graced with a sizable share of kisses from you. Along every inch of me.” His words slowed. His lips on her body a trail that his mind followed. “And—while a welcome gift—a soft kiss to the cheek can't be enough to make a sex demon blush.”

It can't.

It can't.

It was.

It was when it came to Freelancer.

“Plus, Chip's A/C isn't working as well as it once was,” he added before he could stop himself.

He felt her smile before he spotted it in his peripheral. Warmth radiated from around Freelancer in rays. The sense of comfort and care from her wrapped around him. He swallowed hard. The only thing he wanted to do was nuzzle in it. He opened his mouth, hoping to remind her of the many times Chip had to bear witness to their rapture. But Freelancer's hand traveled the length of his arm until she pulled one of his own from the steering wheel and laced her fingers with his. Their linked hands rested between them. Her thumb glided along the back of his hand.

That familiar and incessant pounding. A frantic search for a tease followed. She had wanted both of his hands on the steering after all. But he found something else first: a beg. A bellow of a beg for him to not send her hand away from his—to not mess up what felt right. Of course that was where his hand should've been. Of course it was always, always, always meant to be interlocked with hers.

Thoughts like that had grown to loom larger and larger, harder to cut down and distract with each passing day. Maybe. Maybe he could've let them roam.

He lifted their hands and gave his own chaste kisses. One to each of her knuckles. Each one pressed three words against her skin.

///

It happened while knots formed and twisted tighter, threatening to snap with every Mother's Day Sale commercial and multi-colored tulip bouquet that seemed to catch her eye. He called her name in the middle of the grocery store—his hands full of her preferred pastry flour—as she stared at a set of pink balloons. The words 'Best Mom Ever' decorated the plastic in cursive. He rubbed her wrist at Max's—calling her hadn't worked that time—as her eyes bore into two women that ate in the booth behind him. The only difference between their small features was age as they sat closer than what seemed feasible. Freelancer flinched and smiled away his concern each time—clouds covered the sun.

Each knot tightened the closer that Sunday inched. He attempted to distract her the best ways he knew how—worshiping every line of her, leading her to the wealth of bliss she deserved when she wanted. He attempted to distract her in the ways he'd forced himself to learn how. He binged every comfort show she'd mentioned during their pillow talks with her. He'd hum the tune to the one with the field and parks in the introduction, recite parts of the opening monologue from the cartoon with the air elemental. It earned him a smile that lit her up each time.

Gavin tried every “kitchen sink” cookie recipe he could find, swapping with the human and magic way each time. He tasted cookie dough with her and off of her fingers. Her eyes gleamed every time a fresh cookie instantly appeared in his hand. They talked about everything and nothing at the same time while they waited for batches to bake. He gave her space when she asked. He recruited friends when Freelancer had the bandwidth for socializing. Huxley, Lasko, and Damien up for board, card, and video game parties often. Caelum ready for couch cuddling and more cartoons just the same. Every time he heard her laugh, something surged in him. He could feel when the knots in her loosened ever so slightly as if they were his own.

But that Sunday still came.

Gavin tasted her as morning streamed in from the curtains, they showered together, and made breakfast. He made sure to keep the television on streaming—keeping the commercials at bay—all the romantic comedies lined up and ready for another binge. With Freelancer's head going from his shoulder to his lap in 45-minute increments, they made it through two movies before she got up. She headed to her room with her phone in hand as credits rolled. Told him to give her a second, to start the next one if she took too long for him. The final logos appeared before she did. A tight smile on her face and the knots even tighter. The same thing again after the next film. Another departure, another twist.

He didn't want to press her, only held her hand when she rested against him again. A reminder that he'd be right there when she wanted to tell him what caused the new coiling, if it wasn't only the day itself doing so.

Freelancer left again in the middle of the next movie. Gavin paused. The 'Last Holiday' summary faded in over the actors' faces as she darted by.

“You didn't have to. I've seen this part,” she muttered. “Sorry, I'll be right back.” Another attempt at a smile. It dropped.

Gavin's stomach did the same.

Freelancer disappeared into the room. He started for the door after minutes that moved like days, but she burst out of the room before he could make it to the hallway. The phone gone and replaced with her half open book bag.

“I have a lot to do,” she said under her breath. Her frown deep, her head aimed at the floor, her shoulders low.

She maneuvered around him. Dropped herself and her bag with a thud between the plush of the pastel green couch and the dark hardwood of the long coffee table. She rummaged through her bag with her eyes still aimed at the floor. His chest ached in the worst of ways.

The feeling radiating from her sunk him into the depths of Dahlia. The heavy weight of despair, the cold and sterile and impenetrable fog of devastation. His insides quaked.

“I still have two finals to get through,” she said. Her fingers flicked through pages, never landing on anything. “I just have a lot to do. We can finish the movies later.”

He sat next to her, taking her in. She didn't look at him. Her eyes blinked hard at her textbook, portraits of famous energetics and elementals of the past few centuries flashed by.

He wanted to touch her. He wanted to place his hand on top of her frantic ones, cradle her face, rub her back. Anything to soothe her.

“Freelancer?” he said. That dear word asking all the questions and spilling all the worries he had in him.

A pause.

Freelancer's hands stopped moving. Dark brown eyes still on the page.

“I'm blocked,” she said. Her voice harbored the slightest tremble.

His head tilted, but he kept quiet. Waited. Let that beautiful mind of hers work through what she wanted, what she needed to say next.

“She still won't answer the phone.”

The room went cold. The tears Freelancer had tried to blink away spilled over. She finally turned to him.

“Gavin, she won't answer the phone.”

A choked back sob. A tear inside of him. They reached for each other at the same time. He cradled all of her on the floor. She gripped his shirt tight as she buried her face into the crook of his neck, tears dampening his skin. His chin rested along the puff of her curls. His arms wrapped around her as if doing so was all that would hold him together too.

The devastation thickened, threatening to choke him. Every sniff and gasp from her tore at him. He noticed the quake that shook his being again when she trembled against him. His magic. It did the same with her. Shuddering. The thuds in his chest begged him to clear the fog, to send her pain to the stars. His neck muffled her soft cries. His magic burned when she held onto him tighter. He did the same to her.

“I'm sorry,” she said. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't be so...”

He shook his head. He'd expected her to say it. She apologized a little less now when people bumped into her, when she said 'no' to things, but apologizing when any emotion besides pure happiness made an appearance still happened often.

“You don't have to apologize for feeling,” he said again. He'd say it over and over until he could one day sense her belief in it. “You're hurting, Freelancer. Let yourself feel what you need to without judgment.”

Freelancer's childhood and adolescent stories made it seem as though her parents never allowed her that. Treated her as though she'd come into being fully formed and ready to care for everyone without complaint. Stories of her walking home from school to an empty house right before her younger siblings—all expectations for her to heat them food when she was barely even big enough to see the stove properly, to help them with their homework before she got to hers, to send them to bed before she got to dream. Her mother's only comment to her after a late night arrival was to critique the way Freelancer washed the dishes.

How her mother's distance began after Freelancer first showed her mom that she could make her old dolls fly.

“At least she didn't seem to hate me as much when I helped around the house,” Freelancer had said the night she'd first told him with a soft and weak laugh.

Gavin closed his eyes. Held her just that much tighter just like he'd done then.

Tales of the gap years “tending to the household” between high school and her local unempowered humans' university, the several semesters of mornings working at her neighborhood bakery and getting her siblings ready for school, her afternoons in lecture halls, her evenings either back to work or with her head in her books filled the nighttime talks between them. Any mention of stress in those years, of not being able to leave her bed was met with irritated dismissal from her mother. The pressure had built up in her, right in her core until it cracked.

“I couldn't do it anymore,” she had mumbled against his chest.

“You shouldn't have had to.”

The shatter happened days after she'd had to declare her withdrawal from college—the financial, mental, and physical strain too much—and hours before the high school graduation party for her youngest brother. One cold comment from her mother about how late Freelancer managed to pull herself out of bed, another on how she cooked the breakfast eggs too early, another about how her cake's icing hadn't set properly, how she'd set the tables wrong, how she didn't know how to tie her brother's tie, how she was of no help.

Freelancer remembered crying and opening her eyes to screams, shouts of 'where did she go?' The table, couch, and breakfast bar stools hovered high against the popcorn ceiling. She hadn't realized she'd cloaked until she ran into her room, flickered in and out of view in her dresser mirror. Freelancer was kicked out of the house by sunset.

“Why won't she at least just answer the phone?” Freelancer whispered. Barely audible even with her mouth so close.

After almost three months alone, all she essentially had was the name of a rumored magical academy and the auras she could always vaguely sense, but not name herself yet.

Freelancer's softening sniffs pulled him back fully. He rocked her ever so slightly as her grip on his shirt loosened. He wished on Aria that he could go back to those months, to the day Freelancer's magic finally had to scream out, to the years she spent small, suppressing, and placing a household on her shoulders because that seemed like the only way she could receive a single emotion beyond disdain from her mother.

“It's my first mother's day without...” she started. She didn't have to finish it.

He couldn't make up for it, the affection and care she deserved then. No one could. But he would spend all his eternities giving her all the affection and care he had in him. He didn't know if he could pull her any closer, but he tried. He'd always try. Her breathing steadied and his magic, his entire being, did the same.

Three words roared in his head for the umpteenth time since he'd finally admitted them that one terrifying morning. He let them spill from his mouth. It morphed into three different ones. Their meaning all the same.

“I'm sorry, Freelancer.”

///

Freelancer pulled the sheet over Caelum as he slept on the couch. A couple of their multicolored scrunchies rested along the base of his lavender horns and Dory stickers sat along his puffed cheeks. The credits for the fifth Pixar movie of the day scrolled up on the television screen. Freelancer smiled down at him before moving a small bowl of tropical skittles away from his limp hands.

Gavin didn't fight the smile that rose on his own face. Nor how much it grew when they approached him. The sun, all warm and bright. He leaned against the doorframe to their kitchen as Freelancer stopped right in front of him.

“I'm so glad he doesn't have to rely on actual sustenance from us,” they whispered. They popped a skittle in their mouth.

Gavin tilted his head. “Oh, don't be so harsh on yourself, deviant,” he started, voice quiet as well. “You have been a delectable source of sustenance for me at least.”

They snorted. A roll of the eyes followed a flicker of a glimmer before they headed into the kitchen. He let out a small, soft laugh as he joined them.

Freelancer poured the excess candy back into its bright blue packaging. They clipped it closed after pouring a handful into their mouth.

“You know?” they said through the candy. “I refuse to wake him, but I don't want the last movie he watched tonight to be 'Cars 2.'” They seemed to consider then shrugged. “As long as he liked it though then it's fine.”

“He did go...what was it?” Gavin said.

“Ka-chow,” they grumbled.

His smile grew. “That's right. 'Ka-chow' about fifty times before we got to middle.”

They pulled out three mugs. Gavin already knew what they were about to make. He leaned down to the low cabinets. They set out the one big and small grater. He pulled out a saucepan to place on the stove and turned it to medium-low. Freelancer poured milk in and then pulled out a bar of their favorite semisweet chocolate. They both started grating after Gavin added a pinch of sugar to the pan like he'd seen them do all the times before.

They both gave reviews of the movies they'd finished. Gavin had taken a liking to the one with the little robot, swore to Freelancer that someone who worked on the emotions one had to be empowered, and wondered why anyone would go to a stadium to only watch screens in the monsters' college one. They both finished their grating and Gavin poured the shavings into a glass bowl, letting Freelancer heat it up in the microwave. He'd somehow set it to defrost and low power last time he tried to warm anything in it.

The first set of thirty seconds hummed to a beep before Freelancer spoke up again.

“They have exemption exams,” they said.

He raised an eyebrow, running through the monsters' college movie in his head again. “When did they mention exemption exams?”

They shook their head. “Oh, no not in the movie,” they said. “D.A.M.N.”

He stilled, barely. But it was enough that Freelancer's gaze traveled to his shoulders, his stance. He forced himself to loosen. He didn't even know where they were headed. An eyebrow remained high and he made sure a sly smirk covered his face.

Freelancer held steadier than him. “You remember a few nights ago?”

“I remember all of our nights, deviant,” he said. “We can reminisce on the first, second, and third time you came apart for me last night.”

They didn't take the bait.

“We only kinda talked about it once,” they said. “But, you've been mentioning things about school for a couple weeks now.” They finished with a soft smile. One that made him want to step closer.

Had he?

His comment from last week hit him. Whilst walking Freelancer to class, he'd somehow got on the subject of how inconceivably handsome he'd look in a cap and gown. Another from a couple nights ago where Freelancer mused over making their schedule for next semester, rambled over an electro class they were nervous to take. Gavin urged them to head to Lasko if a class ever made them uncomfortable. How he wished he could have done the same. A final comment from yesterday. Freelancer had sent in their last essay for the semester and during a celebratory round of pizza and wings, he'd mentioned how much he had grown fond of writing essays back then—even the research ones.

Freelancer made it sound as though there were even more examples.

“It was on the D.A.M.N website,” they started again. “They had it a little hidden in the 'academics' section, but you can take this pretty comprehensive exam and get full certification. We can ask Lasko about it.”

Full certification.

The words a pang in both his sides. He'd stored that hope away after classes where he'd caught a whisper or two of 'leech' as he passed rows of classmates, after more than one professor scoffed at his interest in any subject that didn't center around him fucking, when morphing himself into someone he wasn't to get an A made him want to fade back into the Elision Well.

Freelancer had asked him if he'd wanted to go back for full certification awhile ago. The conversation flipped when he asked them if they wanted to be 'full of him.'

He must have been quiet for too long. He couldn't gather up an innuendo in any of it. His mind rummaged through all the reasons he'd set that goal aside and buried it deep.

Freelancer wrapped their arms around him, looking up.

“We can do study sessions together,” they said with another smile that rivaled the stars. They rubbed his back. His shoulders eased. “I can get you back for all the other sessions we've had. We could do practice quizzes, we could do the whole review and have you explain concepts back to me, we could do flash cards. I love a good set of flashcards.”

Light swelled in his chest. He'd finally managed to move his arms around them, their words jolting his body.

“If you want to go the other route, I can make sure you don't have to take that shitty class ever again,” they said. All defiance and defense in their voice. He took in a deep breath and shea butter comforted him. “You shouldn't have to since you already have the credits. I'll head down to any counselor's office if they tried it.”

Gavin could not get a single word out of his mouth. Care and conviction radiated off of them with enough intensity to warm him up from the inside out. Waves of it hugged him tight.

“You get to choose how you get it,” they said, "if you want to get it."

That got his mouth to open, but he had to take more than a couple of deep breaths in. There didn't seem to be enough air in the kitchen.

“It was a joke, Freelancer,” he said, deflating. “They were jokes. What you all call 'the funnies.'”

Freelancer only kept their gaze on him. So gentle and kind. It overwhelmed him, stripped him naked in the only way that made him uncomfortable.

They nodded, but placed their warm hands along his cheeks to cradle his face. The slightest tremble of a chill rushed through him. Their lips against his, just as gentle as their gaze had been.

They tasted sweet.

Their forehead rested against his for days, months, centuries. All until they pulled away enough to look at him again.

“I know in my heart of hearts that you would do amazing, Gavin.”

The sun would never set again.

Gavin had to will himself to take in breaths slow. Freelancer's words carved themselves into the depths of him. He'd never had someone, anyone give the slightest hint that he could strive for something—accomplish something. Heaviness in his chest. That familiar thrum and song that played in his head. He welcomed it. And the tiniest candlelight flicker in the pit of his stomach, one that once went out when he too declared his withdrawal from school. It felt a bit like hope. That hope felt safe with them.

He wasn't ready to fan the flame larger. He'd explain that to them later. He didn't know if he ever would be, but their dark eyes on him made ask himself again.

“Thank you, Freelancer,” he said with his song. His voice garbled even to his own ears.

Freelancer dropped one hand and rubbed his cheek with the other. The room continued to suffocate him, everything in him threatened to bubble over. He almost asked to step away for a moment. Instead, he let his head tilt, let it relax into their hand. They'd beamed at him before he closed his eyes. Their thumb still grazed his cheek, their body so close to his. All warmth radiating from them yet again.

The softest of any laughs huffed through his nose. All those romantic comedies they'd finished. The declarations from the tops of monuments and between the greenery of parks. None of them—not a scene nor a monologue—had described love well enough.

He opened his eyes to the sun again and kissed them.

A knock and a creak of the door before it could even register.

“I tried really, really, really, really, really hard to wait for when smooches were over to ask,” Caelum started at the door, sheets wrapped around him and over his head. They pulled apart with a snort from Freelancer. It took Gavin a bit longer to blink out of his haze. “I even knocked like you told me to, Gavin, but I didn't know how many times to knock to stop the smooches. Smooches were making you both really, really happy and I want you both to be really, really, really, really happy 'cause it makes me really, really really, really, really happy times infinity and infinity is a big number. I think it's the biggest...”

Caelum continued his ramble as Freelancer turned off the boiling milk. They headed to him, patted the sheet pulled taut over his head and horns. Caelum interrupted his numbers ramble to circle back to the topic of 'smooches.' Another easy smile graced Gavin's face.

“After smooches,” Caelum continued, “can we watch Rata—ratatulle? Ratatoe? Ratatat? Ra—can we watch the rat one?”

Freelancer threw an arm around his shoulder. He moved closer into them with a little shuffle before they spun back to face the living room.

“Absolutely,” they said. “And I think it might even be infinity plus one times better than the one we just watched.”

Caelum gasped as they both left. “Infinity plus one?”

The door swung shut and their muffled talk faded. The small smile on Gavin's face only grew. A huff of a laugh through his nose. That light, a kaleidoscope of color filled him to the brim. The haze and daze still hovered all around him, spinning him around as he stood still. He half-wondered how his legs hadn't given out, how much wider his smile could get. His cheeks ached. The imprint of their hands continued to warm them.

That candlelight flicker in the pit of his stomach grew.

///

“Really though,” Freelancer said, gesturing to the night sky. “She's gonna wake up every day not knowing who he is or her own kid. In her mind, she went to bed years ago in her own room in a house with her dad and brother. She wakes up and she's on a boat with a whole kid and husband.” Their jaw dropped. “The days where she woke up visibly pregnant.” Their eyes widened.

Gavin snorted as they huffed. Their head rested on his lap. They both lounged at the center of the courtyard along the trimmed grass, between the reach of high-branched hackberry and pistache trees—Huxley had told him the names. Underneath lamp posts' glows, an occasional student strolled down the alumni bricks of the walkways—the names and years of graduates of old etched into the steps leading to study halls.

“Horror story,” Freelancer finished. A forced shudder ran through them. “Not a bad movie, but I think we should start on the pure comedies next.”

He raised an eyebrow. “As opposed to..?”

A smile from them. One rose on his own face before he even noticed it.

“Is there one you want to start with?”

He'd considered after a moment. Freelancer asked him what he wanted often—movies, food, how he wanted them—and he still wasn't used to it.

“I do remember a certain 'Spaceballs' coming up in conversation,” he said slow, ready for their reaction.

“How did I not guess that would be the title you'd remember?” they said. They rocked side-to-side against him. “We should do that first then try 'Friday.'”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “Don't the five of us have that trail hike then?”

They shook their head. The curls of their afro danced along his upper thighs. He placed a hand along the coils puffing at their hairline, fingers gliding over the soft strands. Freelancer closed their eyes for a few moments and breathed in deep. That familiar warmth radiated off of them. Their eyes shot open.

“Oh, no,” they said. “It's a movie.”

That didn't help the confusion. “They made a movie about a day?” A head tilt. He shrugged inwardly the humans made movies about talking toys. The concept wasn't that odd.

“Not technically,” they said. “It's a specific Friday for these characters.” A pause. “It's where that one old phrase 'Bye, Felicia' came from.”

His expression must have given him away. They seemed to read it quickly.

“It's a phrase to dismiss someone,” they explained, waving away the sky. “She was a neighbor?” Another shake of the head. “She came over to the main character's house and wanted to borrow their microwave. Or was that a different scene?” They waved themselves away that time. “We'll see.”

He huffed. “Why anyone would want to do that escapes me.”

“One day I'll get you to use one properly,” they said with a quick laugh—music that floated up beyond the leaves.

He waited for both songs to quiet just enough for him to speak.

“There are more important lessons, my deviant,” he said. A pull dragged him down to kiss them.

Freelancer kept their eyes closed long after he'd straightened back up. Their full lips drawn into another smile. Gavin nearly kissed them again.

Their recent movie review soon followed. Freelancer reminisced over the 'dial-up noise' and the robotic 'You've Got Mail' voice. They both bounced scenes of their favorite Tom Hanks—Freelancer had to remind him of the actor's name twice—movies. They each attempted to remember the complete, itemized list of the ways to make shrimp that one of the major characters mentioned in a favorite—they always forgot one of the two ways to fry it.

Their talk trailed off into Gavin's attempt to help Freelancer make fried sweet potato hand pies and how often Gavin had asked them why they'd clutched a box of baking soda so tight. They agreed to make the apple pie version soon and Freelancer remembered the last time they'd had it. They'd scarfed them down on an elementary school camping trip as all the other kids looked up at the stars too and made up their own connected constellations. Freelancer and Gavin proceeded to do the same through fits of laughs and innuendos Gavin made sure to find. And Freelancer asked if they both could look at the same set of stars when he was in Aria.

The moon roamed higher in the black ink of the sky and they quieted down after long, settling into comfortable near-silence of cicadas and footsteps. The gold hue from the lamp posts painted Freelancer's dark brown skin, highlighted the same deep tone in their eyes. Both of their gazes remained locked on the other and that was all it took.

The earth pulled him under and he couldn't look away from them, tethered. He felt his breaths deepening, felt the air shake inside him. The song drummed in his head louder than any passing conversation and toll of the courtyard bell. It traveled down from the top of his head to the tips of his ears to the center of his chest. Louder and louder as they looked at each other. That haze of light, of care and affection and warmth was home to him. It hovered from them to him. He knew it radiated from him too. He wished they could sense it from him. He had to let them know. He needed them to know.

His heart, all double-timed thuds slammed against his rib cage at the prospect. My love, my love, my love was what the thuds sounded like. He swallowed hard.

Gavin had to distract himself. Had to pull back.

He kissed Freelancer instead.

Slow, languid. The song deafened him. Their lips soft against his. The roaring, the pounding only grew louder. He had expected it.

He breathed them in once their lips parted, finally a steady inhale.

Gavin meant to mutter one of his innuendos. He scavenged for one about the kiss, about their head in his lap. Anything. Anything to lessen how overwhelming it was just to look into their eyes again. He couldn't find one.

He sat there with Freelancer under the stars, holding each other with their gazes, and that was enough for him. More than enough. It felt like coalescing, coming into being all over again when he was with them. All natural and ease and magic. That same magic thrummed in him like it called to them.

Gavin was so immensely and impossibly happy.

“What are you thinking?” Freelancer said softly.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

An instinct.

He let that clear and truest song play as his scavenge finally found him a sly remark. It felt like the last one he would be able to dig up over this before everything in him forced out that spellsong to them. His fingers trembled as he laced them with theirs.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

An unsteady breath once again.

“What you'll look like tied up underneath me,” he said low. Voice trembled even more than his hand had, more than any teasing comment that slithered from his mouth ever had.

Freelancer didn't scoff or roll their eyes. No wave or ripple of sexual energy rushed off of them. No soft slap to his chest or giggling shift away from him. Only that same warmth. Brighter.

They squeezed his hand.

“Me too,” they said. Just as low as him. Their eyes gleamed as he watched their smile rise.

And sunlight beamed in the middle of the night.

[ltleflrt]

Ltleflrt's Writing Year In Review

Not a lot of writing got done this year, but considering the level of burnout I've been experiencing in the last 3-5 years, I'm very happy with what I've gotten done :)

Total 2023 Wordcount: 67,799

Total 2023 Kudos: 247

Total 2023 Hits: 2,734

My 2023 Fics:

Peace: 18,643 (WIP)

Fenris didn't have much reason to smile and laugh in his life, until he came to Kirkwall and Hawke gives him a reason to. Fenris doesn't want to disrupt the fragile sense of peace he's found by putting his heart in the hands of another mage, but Hawke's flirting and kindness are difficult to resist.

This is a rewrite of my very first fic Peace Begins With A Smile, and technically most of the wordcount is from there. But I've got many more chapters written than posted, and I know for a fact that I added AT LEAST 10k words to the original story, so I'm keeping that posted wordcount for this year's stats :D

Peace began as a writing exercise, just to keep my creative muscles from atrophying. I had replayed DA2 early in the year, and fell down the Fenhawke rabbit hole again, and it made me want to re-read my own story. I hadn't read it in like 10 years, so it was very eye opening to see just how much I've improved and how much my writing style has developed in that time. I wanted to rewrite it with my new skills, and wow it's a BIG difference.

Reaching Out: 22,825 (WIP)

Everyone knew Malcolm Hawke was a good man. A hero in the eyes of his wife and children, and a respected pillar of the community. At least until rumors of magic started to circulate, and he had to move his family in order to protect them. He'd do anything to keep his family safe, a responsibility he passes on to his eldest son when illness takes him away. Mal Hawke not only bears his father's name, but also the weight of his father's legacy. Everyone, including himself, expects him to step into his father's role, to pick up those responsibilities and carry them with the same steadfast strength. An expectation that is tested when the Blight hits Lothering, and is strained to a breaking point by the lawless and chaotic City of Kirkwall.

This is my biggest 2023 project, all original words. Once again, DA2 infested my brain, and I got an idea for a new version of Hawke that has me really excited. Plus, I have always wanted to write a Fenhanders fic, so this is going to be it! I got stuck, and have been distracted by BG3, but I still have big plans for this fic. (SO big, omg this story is going to be so long lol)

Something to Hold: 14,733

He did not hear the telltale clank of Templar armor behind him. It was probably a local. All Anders needed to do was act as if he were a simple traveler passing through. Nothing remarkable. Nothing worth mentioning to any searching Templars who might follow. Don’t run, act natural, don’t run, act natural, he thought firmly as he forced himself to keep an even pace. The only sign he gave that he recognized he was no longer alone on the road was to move to the edge to give the approaching stranger space to pass him. His heart beat like bird wings against the cage of his ribs as the sound of horse hooves and cart wheels grew closer. His fingers began to tingle with magic, and he curled them inward to hide any wayward sparks. Anders tried to keep his shoulders loose instead of tucked up tense around his ears. When the wagon drew up alongside him, Anders kept his eyes forward and prayed to the Maker that the stranger would ignore him. As was the case with most of his prayers, the Maker didn’t listen. On one of his many escape attempts Anders meets the Hawke family. And forms a special connection with the eldest son.

This was an excuse to write porn lol

I love "what if they met before canon" fics, and I decided to write one of my own. It turned out longer than I thought it would (shock!), and planted the seed for Reaching Out. It can stand alone, but I'm treating it as a prequel :D

Bathed in Starlight: 3,336

“You should have brought a torch,” Gethin scolds lightly as he comes to a stop next to Astarion’s discarded armor and clothing. It’s folded neatly, the armor stacked methodically. Astarion affects an air of carelessness, but he keeps his few belongings tidy and organized. Gethin suspects it’s his way of exerting a modicum of control over his life. “Or stayed closer to camp.” Astarion flashes a fanged smile at Gethin over his shoulder, seemingly unsurprised at his presence. “You know how much I enjoy a nip of danger, darling.” When Gethin’s lips tighten with disapproval, Astarion’s smile droops into a pout and he sighs dramatically. “There was nothing to worry about, was there? Here you are, with enough light for both of us.”

OMG a new fandom! *excited bounce*

I picked up Baldur's Gate 3 on launch day because the bear sex scene in the trailer hooked my interest (yes, I'm a closet furry), and the game has taken over my life. I did not expect to fall in love so hard, with the characters, the story, the gameplay, with my OCs, and one particular elf. But here we are, and I'm gonna fic about it.

This is just a canon conversation that I needed to write from the POV of my Dark Urge OC. Nothing special about it. And of course it had to include bathing. If I never wrote anything else for BG3, I needed to make sure I added my signature to the fandom :D

The Sun, The Moon, and The Night: 8,262 (WIP)

Caelnir and Kestrel are half brothers who were swept up by the mindflayer nautiloid at the same time. When they crash back to Faerun, they meet a pale elf who manages to snare both of them with his charms.

This is the bastard that has distracted me from my other WIPs. Yeah, yeah, I'm mad about it too, but I'm also gonna keep writing it lol

I don't normally create OCs. Like, there's Gabe Hawke and JM Shepard, but they've got more of a canon framework than most RPG playable characters. I have no emotional connections to any of my Dragon Age wardens, and the one inquisitor I care about has just the baaaarest hint of backstory. I can't even think of OCs I've created for other RPGs, because I don't care.

But oh boy, I care about Kestrel and Caelnir. A lot. Mostly because I created them with the same face shape, and I thought it would be funny if I somehow made them brothers even though one is a high elf, and the other is a drow. But they're half elves. What if their mom was just a slutty slutty human who traveled a lot? BOOM. The boys came to life, and now I'm writing fic. And since they both romanced the same character in the game, it's a poly fic. I love the challenge of poly fics, and I also hate the challenge, WHY AM I DOING THIS TO MYSELF??

Oh yeah, because Astarion is my blorbo, my boys are precious and special, and I'm the self insert slutty slutty human mom ;D

My writing in 2023 has been nothing like previous years. The fics I've written have gotten very little attention compared to what I'm used to, even going back to my very early days of posting, but I'm having fun and I've got a few friends who are intensely interested in the stuff I'm creating. I'm just happy to be writing!

My plans for 2024 are to keep plunking away at the WIPs in this post. I don't see myself going back to any of my Destiel WIPs, posted or otherwise, any time soon. I think my brain needs a break from the Winchesters for now.

(Of course, there's a shitload of Winchester Inspiration in some of my new OCs, but like...they don't have American accents, so they're TOTALLY DIFFERENT PEOPLE LOL)

Anyway, Happy New Year! Here's to many more fics, both written and read, in our future! 🍾🎆🥂

Previous Years

[naushtheaspiringauthor]

~Child Of The Storm~

Nikolai Lantsov x OC

Image by - @brokendreamtale2

Warnings- none

A/N- FIRST CONVERSATION RAHHHH also i love my girl so much shes such an icon. Anddd let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist!

Taglist- @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @sirisuorionblack @nadeleine123n

Ch-23 ~Estranged soul~

That night, they’d been invited to dine with Sturmhond in his quarters. The meal was served by the steward, a servant of impeccable manners, who was several years older than anyone else on the ship. No matter the presentation, the food was better than Anaya had in weeks, fresh bread, roasted haddock, pickled radishes, and a sweet iced wine, which she drank more than she'd anticipated.

Sturmhond mentioned the shipment of arms he was bringing back to Ravka. Then he seemed to perk up and they spent the rest of the meal talking about guns, grenades, and exciting ways to make things explode. A kind of conversation Anaya had no intention of joining. Thankfully, none of the crew members seemed to pay much attention to her, except for the captain, the boy seemed to keep his eye on everyone.

She decided to inspect her surroundings. Everything was gleaming wood and polished brass. The desk was littered with charts, the pieces of a dismembered sextant, and strange drawings of the hinged wing of a mechanical bird, just what was this boy planning to do? The table glittered with Kerch porcelain and crystal. The wines bore labels in a strange language. 

After what felt like an eternity, they all bid their farewells and retired for the day.

..............................................................

Anaya spent half of the night tossing and turning in the hammock, she didn't seem to have any hint of sleep despite the exhaustion. She noticed Alina and Tamar silently creeping out of the quarters, but she chose to ignore it. At least for a while. After a while, she could feel the ship rocking much violently than it had been. She quickly pulled her kefta on and went outside. 

A massive burst of light erupted from somewhere on the ship. Anaya rushed to see that it had been Alina. The girl had worn the sea whip's fetter. The power grew more violent, but the she didn't seem to stop. People began to shout and bellow, but it had no effect on her. 

"Alina" Mal called out, but she did not respond

 "Alina!" he suddenly wrapped his arms around her. He pulled her back with a hard grip. She finally released the light, revealing the night sky once again. 

She drew the last scraps of light together and wove them into a soft sheen that pulsed over the deck of the ship.

Sturmhond and the others were crouched by the railing, their mouths open in awe. Anaya was surprised to find herself having a similar reaction.

Mal still had the girl wrapped in his arms. 

Mal,” she said quietly. “Mal, I can’t breathe.”

Slowly, he opened his eyes and looked down at her. She finally dropped her hands, the light disappearing entirely. He then eased his grip on her. Tolya lit a lamp, and the others got to their feet. 

Sturmhond dusted off the gaudy folds of his teal coat. A girl that might have been a Fabrikator, looked sickly, she might've been the one to secure the amplifier.

“Well, Summoner,” said Sturmhond, a slight wobble to his voice, “you certainly know how to put on a show.”

Mal bracketed Alina's face with his hands. He seemed to kiss her wherever he could reach, then drew her tight against him once again.

“You’re all right?” he asked. 

“Yes,” she replied.

Without saying a word to anyone, Anaya went back to Tamar's quarters

.....................................................................

Anaya shuffled in her hammock. She usually had trouble sleeping, but it seemed to be worse tonight. Se silently crept out of Tamar's quarters in just her shirt and pants of the same colour. She went near one of the railings and leaned, placing her arms on it. This part of the ship was almost empty apart from the few of the crew members who'd been on watch.

The cold salty air brushed on her skin as she closed her eyes. The sea had a different sense of calmness and peace that was nowhere else to be found. 

She was still baffled by the fact that she was alive, still. She herself couldn't believe what she'd done back at the whaler. Something she never knew she was capable of.  

Her trail of thoughts was disrupted when she sensed silent footsteps behind her. She quickly readied herself to form an icicle, but stopped herself remembering she couldn't possibly be attacked on the ship. She turned around to see Sturmhond making his way to her.

She turned to look at the sea once again as the boy approached her. He leaned against the railing alongside her, and finally spoke. "I've been meaning to talk to you"

She looked at him raising an eyebrow, "Why?"

"I wanted to thank you, for helping us back on the whaler. What you did was really unexpected" He smiled, his features gleaming in the moonlight

"I didn't even expect that myself"

The boy let out a small chuckle

There was a short pause before he spoke again, "Why did the Darkling made you his tracker?" He asked, "How did you know about the creature's whereabouts?"

"There's much you don't know about me" 

"I think we can change tha-"

"And I would very much prefer to keep it that way" she cut him off

"I respect that" he pursed his lips

After a long moment of silence, Anaya spoke "There's a lot I don't know about you either. I mean, how do I know that you won't take us to the fold and throw us offboard then feed us to the volcra whom you might be taming the whole time?" She shrugged

"Don't worry darling, I promise I won't do that. Besides, you're too beautiful to be fed off to Volcra" he winked at her, making her roll her eyes

"Do pirates not sleep at night?"

"A- Privateer" the boy threw his arms in exasperation. "And we do, but usually not when there are guests around"

"Alright" Anaya responded, a corner of her mouth slightly turning up. She left the deck, leaving the privateer all by himself

[umbralsound-xiv]

Gift.

It had been longer than she would've liked when she last wandered this path, even if the reason had been a pleasant one. Sayuri's ears flickered to the occasional birdcall that echoed between the trees, uncertain whether it was the Karahli, or actual birds - it could be either, really.

A small smile settled on her lips as the Willows came into view, her steps drawing ever closer. Once she reached the door, a hand extended for the handle and she began to push it open, making her way inside the home.

Bexy's ears flick at the sound of distant footfalls, slowly turning and raising as they drew closer, nearer. No sooner has Sayuri entered the Whispering Willows, Bexy has already abandoned her slice of rolanberry tart and made it to the doorway to throw her arms around Sayuri. "---I thought you were never going to come home!" Bexy laughs, half-serious, as she regarded her sister and friend. "Welcome home, Sayuri!" She beams, almost too-wide. "I hope you're here with plenty of good tales to tell?"

Gods, it feels like forever since i saw her last... Since before the change of cycle, i... ...I missed her, of course. Even though i knew she was well, likely having the time of her life in some far flung land.

Sayuri's own arms coiled around Bexy in return, a soft laughter leaving her in return to the comment. "I promised I would, didn't I?" She beamed. "Thank you. I'm glad to be home. And I have a few, at least!"

"Well, i will be glad to hear them!" Eventually slipping away from her, Bexy moves to the stovetop, then. "Tea? Something to eat? Tell me of the adventures of the new Mrs Fellfrost!" Excitement hung on her every word, tail dancing at her heels. "You have been missed. In case that wasn't quite apparent."

"Some tea would be nice." Sayuri smiles. "Well, we explored Radz-at-Han a bit, considering I had never been there before and it had been quite some time since he last was. Went shopping and.. actually met people who had known him before, even if both had been.. quite young, at the time. We had a picnic, visited a meyhane, watched some dancing.." She pauses, as a tiny pout settles on her lips before she continues. ".. Picked flowers and put them in each others hair.." The sentence is more mumbled shyly than spoken aloud, as she's certainly not the first person who openly speaks about adorable things she gets up to.

"So he spoiled you rotten, then?" Bexy asks, head turned over her shoulder. "He'd best have. What was it like? Just as colourful as i've heard?" Quickly returning her attention, she begins to prepare a pot of tea; rolanberry as always. "I'm glad you had fun. Gladder still that you're home, and you get to tell me about it. Take a seat, hm? I'll be with you in a moment."

"I'm the one with the mountain of coin, Bexy. If anything, I spoiled him." She grinned, letting her feet steer towards the table, settling herself upon the bench by it. "It was! It was a very lovely city, pleasant people.. Even if.. one Raen was a touch too.. excited about my.. predicament. Even so, we had a great time."

"Mountain of coin or not, you can still spoil someone. He'd better be a good husband." Bexy half-teases, bringing over two mugs and the teapot. "Raen? Excited how? Was she one of those who knew him before?" Bexy asks, head tilted, joining Sayuri at the other side of the table.

"He is, believe me." She smiles, one ear drooping down a touch. ".. The night before my nameday, I.. had a nightmare, one that brought out a rather violent reaction from my aether.." A brief pause, as Sayuri's hands intertwine with eachother. ".. Eir took me to their alchemists, to see if.. anything could be done for me. The woman we spoke to was.. quite excited about the uniqueness of my condition, I think."

Pouring out the tea, Bexy listens intently, offering a short nod every so often to indicate that she was listening, gently sliding Sayuri's tea towards her. "…Suppose from a purely educational perspective, it's interesting enough." Peering over the rim of her teacup, Bexy takes a sip. "…And? Could they do anything…?"

Not that i have abandoned my search for answers here, but... In case Q'kura isn't quite as smart as he thinks he is, it doesn't hurt to have a backup.

Sayuri's hands unlinked and reached for the cup, head nodding in thanks. ".. She.. managed to make some kind of potion that helped, but.. by no means cured me. I could use some aether without pain, exist without this constant dull ache. I had almost forgotten how it felt like." She shook her head faintly, raising her cup to take a sip. "I have some vials left of it, but.. Once I've run out, that's it. She used some of Eir's aether for it and.. he already has so little, I don't want to ask him to go through that again, even if I have no doubt he would if I did."

"…He would, you know this. Wouldn't you do the same for him?" Bexy arches a brow, considering. "…Though i understand the want to protect him, especially if he has so little to give. Still…" Bexy seems to contemplate something quietly, hanging in a short pause before she continues to talk. "I cannot exactly say i have been sitting idle in your absence… I too, have been looking into ways to address your condition…"

".. Of course I would, but I have an abundance of it, he doesn't." She mumbles, tapping at the cup with a claw before lofting her brow. ".. Have you.. found anything..?"

"I…" Bexy flicks her gaze up, and back to the cup for a moment. "…Something like that?" There's a hesitant pause, briefly thinning her lips to a line, fighting the tugging smirk. "Think of it something of a late namesday gift." She takes a small sip, then. "I'll show you after your tea."

If i told her, she would storm down those stairs, i am certain. Better to hold off for a few moments, surely...?

Sayuri blinks twice, eyes narrowing into a squint at Bexy. She nonetheless raises her cup to drink from it. "..Can you tell me about it, at least..?"

"I don't want to spoil the surprise." Bexy states more plainly, taking another drink. "Just that… It's promising. And i went through a great deal of effort to get it for you. Information brokers… Bloodshed. There is nothing i wouldn't do for my little sister."

There's another pause, ears slowly drooping as she takes in the given information. "You.. hunted, while I was away..?"

"I'm fine, don't worry. I didn't kill anyone important." A dismissive gloved hand is slowly waved. "I wasn't going to just let you suffer, Sayuri. I know what your aether means to you. I… Can't guarantee anything. And if it doesn't work, i'll keep looking."

Sayuri shook her head slightly. "I care for your well-being, not whoever you would've killed." A faint exhale leaves her. ".. I hope you were not alone. The thought of being unable to be at your side in battle, to leave you to fight my battles for me.." Her features draw into a small frown. ".. It drives me mad."

"…I know. I know…" A warm, gentle smile is given in Sayuri's direction. "I wasn't alone, don't worry. But that doesn't mean i don't want you back fighting by my side. Even in your condition, i know you're not defenseless. I just know it isn't… The same. It's instinct to use our aether." A small sigh, as Bexy drains most of her tea, and raises to her feet. "…Come on. I was never very good at holding back surprises, anyway."

..But in the end i suppose it is only a cup of tea. And i am terrible at surprises, especially in this manner.

".. I may as well be defenseless, the way pain can cripple me if I get emotional enough." She huffs. The cup is lift to her lips while she stands, dutifully draining her cup and setting it down.

"…I know you'd still push through if it came to it. Hopefully though, that won't be necessary." A small sweep of her hand encourages Sayuri to join her as Bexy descended the stairs.

".. I would. I also have. And it crippled me badly enough that I needed support to walk, and then got carried." She mumbles a touch bitterly, steps following Bexy's as they descend the stairs together.

Bexy descends the stairs, wordlessly. Approaching her room with the same pace, she suddenly turns on her heels, bringing an index up to her painted lips in a shushing motion. "Sayuri." Bexy whispers. "…Promise me something?"

A wordless Q'kura lifts his ears. One set of footsteps he'd learned to expect. The one that followed… Had he heard voices above…?

Sayuri pauses, slowly raising a brow at Bexy. Her head tilts, being offered as a mute question.

Vex, in her usual spot next to the cell, sits and juggles a little ball of fire between her hands to entertain herself, now capturing the flame in one hand and letting her ears perk up.

"You can't kill him. Not until you're cured. It's the best chance we have." A small, sincere pat was given to Sayuri's shoulder, before she leads into her bedroom. Unusually, the bookcase was already open, catching the dimming light of Vex's flames. "Greetings, Vex."

I was sure she wouldn't She might hurt him, sure enough. She'd be entitled to, after all he's put her through. But he was useful, still. I was certain enough that she most likely wouldn't kill him...

Q'kura takes a sharp breath in. He knew Bexy wasn't alone… And had his assumptions as to who the company might be…

She remains quiet, her thoughts visibly beginning to run as she tries to figure out just exactly who she should expect. She follows, gaze moving to the bookcase to catch a glimpse of Vex, not quite yet visible to Q'kura.

Vex flashes and immediate grin upon seeing the two, raising one hand in an overly enthusiastic wave. "Hey!" She greets, in an incredibly jovial tone.

Bexy plucks a candle from a nearby book as she rounds the corner, settling it on holder and dutifully holding it out for Vex. "She returns. Finally." The word was met with some faint laughter, then.

Q'kura slowly begins to shuffle into the far corner of the cell, ears low and flat on his head. He knew this would happen, sooner of later. Already, his breath hitches in his throat.

Vex flicks the flame already in her hand the candle's way, letting it settle there.

Then, Sayuri finally steps in, greeting Vex with a small smile. A smile that disappears into nothingness, the moment her mismatched gaze falls to Q'kura. The previously, relatively happy look in them turning into sheer hatred in a the matter of seconds.

Holding the candle, Bexy simply offers Sayuri the key. "Just remember what i said."

Q'kura's eyes are wide, dragging a shrill, terrified sound out of the back of his throat. "S-Sayuri! I--- I---" He began to stutter already, unable to speak any further for the moment.

Vex shoves herself up to stand, just in case.

Sayuri reaches to grasp onto the key. ".. I will." Her tone is kept quiet, hand soon enough reaching over to unlock the cell door, and nigh tear it open in order to step inside. ".. Q'kura." His name leaves her akin to a curse word, dripping with spite.

Bexy remains at Vex's side, then. Watching. Waiting.

"S-Sayuri! It-- I-it… I…" He couldn't shuffle any further against the wall if he tried. "I'm sorry! I---- I didn't know--! I swear, i'm sorry for what happened!" He'd thought of what he might say, of course, in the intervening moments between his capture and this moment. But all turned to ash now, confronted with the reality of the situation.

Cold clings to the air in Sayuri's immediate vicinity, increasing in intensity the longer she stares at Q'kura. ".. And what.. exactly.." Mid snarled speech, Sayuri swipes a hand down, seeking to snatch onto the collar of Q'kura's robe to yank him up to her own height. ".. did you NOT know?"

Q'kura yelps as he's dragged up, failing to find purchase on the ground with his bad leg. "I-- I d-didn't know i-it would turn out like this! I w-would have never… I-i…" Struggling to swallow, he gasps. "I a-am… S-sorry…"

"Oh, well.. if you're sorry.." She begins, almost sounding calmer.. Almost. She suddenly bares her teeth to the point her fangs are on display. A shard of ice forms in her free hand which she promptly lunges forwards, slamming into the wall just next to Q'kura's head.

A shrill sound escapes him, flinching as the ice narrowly - and purposely - missed him. "I'M SORRY!" Q'kura screams, writhing in her grasp. "Y-your aether! I--- I can help! I can fix it! I-- I can try to fix it, i know what they did, please, please, don't kill me!"

Despite trying to choke down her own pain of using her aether to not let it show, a twitch in her eye is the biggest telling sign, as well as the grip of his collar tightening. "Your shit excuse of an apology does not undo what you fuckers did to my -HUSBAND-." She snarls.

"I--- I didn't do a-anything!" Q'kura pleaded. He was wrong. "I--- I healed him! R-remember? You were in the cell, you were close! I fixed his legs! Vex! Vex, you heard me too! Please!"

Only a long, slow sigh makes it out of Bexy's nose. She was confident enough Sayuri wouldn't kill him, of course. At least, so she liked to think.

This is warranted. It would be somewhat unforgivable to dismiss her anger, deny her of what she wanted. She is my sister, of course.

"-YOU- lead his bloody capture. None of this would've happened if it weren't for -YOU-." The dagger tore out of the wall, moving to instead point directly at Q'kura's throat. "-You-, Keely, and that bastard of an Elezen that was boasting about it." She snarled. "The only goddamn reason I have not torn your goddamn throat out yet is because you -will- fix me."

Vex's lips draw into a thin line. She doesn't back up Q'kura, and merely shuffles on the spot.

"I will! I will!" Q'kura does his best to jerk his head away from the dagger, strangled, terrified sounds spilling from his lips. "I s-swear, i'll fix you, i will! She promised! Your sister promised i'd be free if i did!"

Bexy's icy gaze says nothing. No denial. No affirmation. Just cold silence.

Sayuri silences herself for a moment, merely staring at Q'kura while her anger seethes. She leans herself just a slight bit closer, keeping her head close to Q'kura's. The next words that leave her carry an almost empty tone, devoid of the rage that still burned in her icy glare. "My sister would not promise you your life, when it's not hers to promise." She tilts her head. "She wouldn't promise you anything, if she wasn't completely certain she could keep it."

"B-b-but she--- S-she…" Q'kura casts a helpless gaze in Bexy's direction; anything to flee from those peering, mismatched eyes of Sayuri. Not that Bexy's were any better.

Bexy's gaze narrows, and a long sigh is given from her nose. "I said might, Q'kura." Though her words are certainly not unkind, there's some edge to them. "Why don't you elaborate on what we spoke about, hm?"

"E-elaborate? I--- I d-don't know--- Oh!" Q'kura wrestles his expression into a smile, looking back in roughly Sayuri's direction but not at her eyes. "Th-the others! Inside! I---I can help. I c-can get back in. C-can help get the others out…"

Sayuri arches a brow, icy stare burrowing into Q'kura's own if he dared to look. "Is that so?"

Q'kura half dares a look, immediately filled with regret; the very sight of her so close brings a short cry of alarm from his throat. "Y-yes! Th-there are others, V-vex can't get back in, th-they don't trust her, but me, i… I can, i…" His words stutter into half-sentences, unintelligible and terrified. "P-please, S-Sayuri…" He puts some emphasis on her name, daring to meet her eyes again. "I w-will f-fix you… I s-swear…"

"I can get in if I want. Getting out again is the problem." Vex corrects, pouting. Missing the point there, lady.

".. I know of one other." Sayuri spoke quietly. "A Seeker I was about to kill during our escape."

"D'khoreh." Vex chimes in.

Sayuri's gaze briefly left Q'kura in favour of giving Vex a stare, slowly creeping back to the Seeker still held at knife-point. "You phrase it as if you have a choice in the matter, Q'kura." Her voice was disturbingly calm, now. Eyes narrowed into a cold glare that showed little emotion other than annoyance. "I do find it curious that you'd be willing to stab Grym in the back, considering his reputation.. And that he certainly doesn't lack the will to kill you if you wrong him."

Vex's words earn a look from Bexy, somewhat accusatory but not unkind. And then, a small nod to Sayuri. "You're right, of course. But Q'kura doesn't know where we are, and knows nothing of us. He either tries to free them and succeeds, tries and fails, and Grym kills him, or decides to try and turn on us, and we kill him. He doesn't have a whole lot of options… But certainly one that is less terrible than the others."

Q'kura still hangs from Sayuri's grasp. Despite his struggling, he'd not attempted to harm her in any way, even going as far to hold up a hand. "P-please…" Teary eyed, he looks up to her. "A-at least g-give me a chance…" He pleads, in a whispered, airy breath. "I d-did with your Husband. I-in the arena. I c-could have just lied, a-and let him die…" Another anxious swallow, then. "B-but i didn't."

Vex's ears swivel, and she returns a look Bexy's way; offering another pout but keeping her silence.

Sayuri's eyes narrow further, ears pinning back. "You could have. And you can thank whichever God you believe in that you saw enough sense not to, or I would not let you have breathed a single word."

"I-it was y-you…" Q'kura babbles out between breaths, looking to the ice that was ilms from kissing this throat. "Y-your i-ice. He s-should have been dead. N-no one could h-have survived th-that, b-but… Your i-ice…" Q'kura swallows again, unsteady. "It s-stemmed the blood. N-not only with sealing the wound, b-but… His pulse was s-so… Slow. S-stilled, b-by your ice." Q'kura's terrified features slowly knit into something a little more steely, if only for a moment. "V-Vairg was wrong. You d-did s-save him."

Sayuri's expression softens, eyes widening just a touch as she processed what Q'kura said. ".. I.. saved him..?" She half whispers, eyes sinking down to her dagger, which lowers slightly as to not be an immediate threat. ".. My-.. My ice.. saved him..?"

Bexy stares at the revelation. Confusion and… Joy? She doesn't say a word, though the look on her face was enough to know she had much in her thoughts.

That is... I... I don't know what happened there, in that moment. But to know that it did something more than destroy... That it helped. I can't imagine how Sayuri feels, but i know it's probably some kind of relief. Those words... Probably saved Q'kura a lot of hurt, too.

Q'kura doesn't nod, suppressed though he was, and now willing to put his head any closer to the dagger, lowered though it might have been. "Y-yes. I-it… C-could not have been a-anything else. H-he had lost… S-so much blood. W-what little he h-had left was kept within him, k-kept slow. I-it was a… M-miracle he survived. A-as much as i… Healed him. S-several times, m-might i add… It was you… Y-your ice, that saved his l-life."

Vex idly scratches at her cheek with a lofted brow, clearly not having been aware of such details.

Sayuri remains almost eerily still, a deep, half-shaky breath being drawn before she bites back the rising emotion, not wishing for her vulnerability to show in front of what she considered an enemy. She seems to be at a loss for words.

Half held, half standing, Q'kura stares. He hadn't known the woman well enough to determine whether her reaction was a good one or not, and merely keeps still, half holding his breath. "I-it is as your sister says. I… I don't have a lot of options. B-but…" Blinking, Q'kura does what Sayuri didn't; tears slowly spill down his cheeks, then. "P-please, at least g-give me a chance."

Sayuri kept a steady stare upon Q'kura, ears pinned back. There's a long moment of silence before her head turns, a much kinder gaze seeking out Bexy and Vex, as if requesting their general thoughts about it.

"We have plenty to gain, and nothing to lose." Bexy's remark is plain, offered with a small incline of her head. "He heals you. Then, we let him go. From there, he has a few options. He can go running back to Grym's side. If they decide to kill him, it's no loss to us."

The way Bexy spoke sees Q'kura wilt again. A sob, though he fights to stifle it for what good it will do.

"If he lives, he has two more options. Side with Grym, do… Whatever it is he's been doing, and we'll kill him with the rest. Or, help us. Free the others, get us information… That sort of thing. If he fails, they'll kill him and he'll no longer be a problem. And if he succeeds… Well." A small, indifferent roll of her shoulder. "It's your decision, Sayuri. And i stand by whatever you choose. He will heal you regardless. Anything less than perfection, i will have him begging for death long before i give it to him."

".. He does have a talent to talk himself both in and out of shit." Vex muses. ".. And allies tend to pop up in real weird fucking places, apparently."

Sayuri listened, to both Bexy and Vex, nodding along briefly to the woman considered her sister, before her brow arched at the younger Seeker. ".. Your deal with us, and his deal, is vastly different, Vex." Sayuri spoke quietly.

"Oh I'm not talking about Q'kura. 'S one that sure as fuck didn't have a single deal with either of us. And still helped."

A moment of silence, then, as the piece of the puzzle fell into place, Sayuri's ears pinning back. She knew who Vex meant, and was still uncertain how to truly take the scenario that had happened. Her head then turns to Q'kura, eyes narrowing. "The people. They are of.. what Vex called Distrusted, yes?"

"Y-yes." Q'kura manages the faintest nod he could muster. "…D'khoreh. He…" A small sigh from the man, then. "D-does not deserve his fate. He h-helped heal the Viera after Vairg…" The sentence trails. Even Q'kura didn't enjoy talking about it. "Th-there are others, too."

Bexy slowly pulls her lips into a line, glancing to Vex with a nod, and then back to Sayuri. "…There's something else you should know that he told me. We have no reason to believe he's lying. At least, not about this." Bexy's gaze flicks to Q'kura, who offers a deep, almost lamenting sigh.

"…I have not tried r-run. N-not escape. I h-have been a good… C-captive." The word seems to wound him to speak, eyes closing. "…S-should you wonder why, you need only look to what i'd be going back to." An anxious swallow, then. "…Vairg. He's the new l-left hand. N-no one is h-happy about this. Perhaps s-save Grym."

"I met D'khoreh. He was collared, same as Vex. And I am aware of the fact he aided my husband, and that Vairg tried to force him into harming him for it." The Viera's name leaves her dripping with spite, the anger she held and tried to contain bubbling to the surface before being choked down again. "You. You are the exact opposite of their ranks. Why would they believe that you were trying to help them, and not simply guide them into a trap?" Sayuri's gaze wandered back to Bexy, head tilting ever so slightly, until Q'kura speaks again and regains her attention. ".. Vairg.. was promoted..?" She lofted a brow. ".. That sadistic asshole is only happy when he's inflicting pain and suffering, but I suppose.. promoting that bastard counts..."

"It's been awful. A-at least here, i can eat my meals in p-peace…" Q'kura blinks trying to still the tears in his eyes, leaning further away from Sayuri's grasp. Balancing on one leg had begin to creep beyond discomfort for the mage. "I… I d-don't know w-why they would believe me. I h-have to think of something, b-but…" Q'kura takes an unsteady breath. "O-one thing a-at a time. I need to heal you f-first."

Vex hums thoughtfully to herself, tapping a finger against her own chin as she does. ".. I'd say convince D'khoreh first, but.. he aint the one you gotta convince. That's D'nhehli."

Sayuri dissipates her dagger and simply lets go of Q'kura, having no intentions to set him down gently. "I despise the thought of letting you do anything to me, but I know my sister would kill you if you even dared to consider causing me more harm."

He would beg me to kill him. He would be so lucky if he would be stupid enough to hurt her.

Q'kura drops with a yelp, slumping against the wall, and slowly easing himself down to sitting with a wince. "I w-won't hurt you. W-we both know Grym will l-look for you. I h-have no intention of t-telling him a-anything. B-but… I-in the event he or V-Vairg or… Someone finds you again. I would m-much rather it be when you can d-defend yourself." Taking a simpering little breath, he slowly rubs his hand over his broken limb. "…I h-have… I-ideas for h-how to fix you. Only theories, b-but… Good ones…"

Sayuri's eyes narrow with clear suspicion, tail thrashing to the side with her frustration. "..Theories." She repeats, seemingly not all too happy about the fact there isn't an immediate known cure.

"G-good theories! I-it isn't as though i've had chance to test them! But they will w-work, they h-have to work…" Q'kura seems to half convince himself, taking a deep breath. "I w-will need s-samples. A-and… Things to work with. O-or an alchemist that can follow instruction, o-or my grimoire. But i promise you, i a-am the best chance you have." A pause then, as Q'kura's gaze falls on Bexy. "A-and i'll need things from you too. Y-you are sisters, yes?"

Bexy pulls her lips into a line. "…As good as. But not by birth. We share no blood nor parentage, for a blessing."

Q'kura shakes his head. "T-that… Makes it a little more difficult. But your aether is… Similar? Are there differences?" Seemingly, talking about anything other than his possible demise or his immediate captivity seemed to bring some sort of… Calm to the Seeker.

A small frown settles on Sayuri's features, ears remaining pinned back. One hand reaches for the wrist of the other, idly rubbing along the inside of it to quell the mild discomfort her own mind and memories caused. ".. There are differences, yes."

"Th-then, sometime soon… I-i… I would like to hear those. As much as you can tell me. It… It does not have to be now. J-just know that… I will try to fix you, S-sayuri." A small note of pride is barely flickered across his face. "I w-was a doctor before i was a…" Quick to replace it, a frown lingers on his features. "…Whatever i am n-now."

".. You will do more than try, Q'kura." Her tone was low, tail swatting to the side while her gaze remained locked upon him. "A slaver? A person who has fucked up so royally that he finds himself almost in the very situation he has brought others into?"

Q'kura wilts at the scathing words, eyes cast away, ashamed. He had no reply for that, and knew she was right, besides. "I w-will do my best…" Came a meek voice. Content that she'd no longer kill him; or at least, not right now, he seems to calm just a little. "…W-whenever you give me the information i need, i'll formulate a course of a-action."

Content with that, Bexy sinks her head into a nod. "I'll give you mine in writing, at least. Sayuri?" Bexy asks, head tilted. "…If you've anything more to ask him, now is the time."

She spent a moment in silence, contemplating.. Slowly shaking her head before turning on her heels to walk over to the wide open cell door. ".. The longer I'm near him, the more I want to hurt him." She muttered quietly, yet she clearly didn't care if Q'kura actually heard her or not. She then draws a deeper breath and sneers over her shoulder. "Do not think you're off the hook for the suffering inflicted on my husband, caused by your actions."

"I…" Q'kura nods. He's partway through curling in on himself, regardless. "Hah, i… I don't think… Y-you'd let me. Or your sister." Taking a deep breath, he gives a long, shaky exhale. Whatever words he has, he keeps to himself.

"We need him in some workable shape if he's to heal you, hm? Save the anger for later. Or for someone else." A comforting pat on her shoulder was offered, as Bexy locks the door behind Sayuri. "I'm rather glad you didn't kill him. He took some getting into this little box, i'll have you know."

"I helped!" Vex announces, proudly.

Sayuri huffed, grumbling beneath her breath. "I have enough anger for the entirety of the compound, but I will leave him be.. For now." She casts a glance Vex's way, then to Q'kura once more, to slowly drag back to Bexy. ".. So he can fix the damage caused, and aid those Vex deem in need of rescue." A sharp exhale leaves her, head shaking. ".. Trust me, it was tempting. He's the last one alive of the trio who took Eir that sun."

"You did!" Bexy beams proudly to Vex, before she offers a small dip of her head to Sayuri. "…And i wouldn't have begrudged you if you'd have just ran him through and let him die. Perhaps a little stuck for how to help your aether, but not angry." She moves back from the door; Sayuri could leave the cell area on her own terms if she wished, or remained.

Regardless, Q'kura keeps his head low, brows knit; clearly deep in thought.

"As much as I want to kill him.." She glared over her shoulder at Q'kura, before looking back at Bexy with a much kinder gaze. "..I want my aether fixed. And the only other person I'd consider getting would be the asshole herself who did it to me, but I already know she wouldn't cooperate, and would offer a fight." She extended her right hand to her left arm, idly dragging her fingers along the cloth which covered the lightning scar beneath. Sayuri briefly glances to Vex and offers a dip of her head before moving to step out of the cell area.

Vex raises a hand and waves, a big grin on her lips as she does.

Bexy offers a wave to Vex in turn, moving in stride with Sayuri, then. "…I thought you would. I thought about putting a bow on his head and telling you happy late Namesday, Starlight, and congratulations on your wedding all in one, but i thought that might be a little indecent." Still, a small smirk tugs at her lips. "…He will fix you. You know this. I will make him fix you. I wasn't going to stop at getting your back. I plan to take back everything they ever took from you."

I'm somewhat surprised no blood was spilled, but suppose it does hurt her to use her ice. He will fix her. I will make him fix her.

An audible snort of amusement leaves her, head shaking. ".. I would've had a laugh from it, and I'm sure Vex would too." She passes a glance in the direction of the cell area. ".. I'm glad to see she's still around." Her gaze slips back to Bexy, head sinking into a slight nod. ".. To know you will be watching over me is the only reason I'm letting him do anything to me. I know you'd never let him harm me, if that was something he considered. But judging how frightened he is.. even I am doubting it."

"…It's been so… Strange. He's never even tried to break out. Hasn't even pleaded to be released, only for us not to kill him." Bexy ascends the stairs, voice quietened as to not let their captive overhear. "…If anything he's been the model prisoner. Something tells me he isn't well liked. Or at least, has some kind of difficulty, there. No wonder he jumped at the chance to some kind of glory. Though it's all but backfired on him now… I can't imagine what he'd contend with if he goes back."

".. Vairg." The name was snarled, her ears pinning back anew after having just returned to a more perked position. ".. I remember him being called to heal Eir, by Vairg. I.. don't remember word by word what Q'kura said to him, but I remember that Vairg threatened for Q'kura to join him.." She briefly shut her eyes at the memory's intrusion, shaking her head. ".. Not to mention that Grym certainly has no trouble killing his own, but.. I do not know if that was because that man was trying to kill me or for going against his orders.. Maybe even both." Sayuri's brows furrowed, a small frown settling on her features. "..And being a healer, he responds to Eanwin's orders.." She glanced downwards to her left arm, letting her hand grasp onto the sleeve to slowly roll it up, putting the lightning scar on display. ".. And she did this to me."

"…Some healer. Gods…" Something about the lightning scar makes Bexy purse her lips in discomfort, gently settling her hand on Sayuri's shoulder after she'd finished ascending the stairs. "…If he's killed when he returns… If he returns, suppose it's no great loss to us. But he won't be leaving that cell until you're healed. I know that. He knows that. As for Vairg, we'll deal with him when the time comes. As left hand, i imagine he has his hands full, which means… We likely shouldn't be seeing him around. Hopefully."

She manages a weak smile Bexy's way in response to the hand settling on her shoulder, her sleeve being released and rolling back down to cover it all. ".. I don't trust him, but I would like to be able to help those who are in the same situation Vex was.. And the only other person from there I'd imagine might do something to help is.. one I do not want to see ever again.. Despite the fact that he helped us during the escape. Still, part of me doubt it was out of the goodness of his supposed heart." She exhales a slow sigh, nodding faintly. ".. My aether restored, and some training.. Then I will happily face off against that bastard on a more even ground.."

"Gods, some training. We're long overdue a sun or two in Coerthas. Or Garlemald, if it comes to it." An encouraging smile offered to Sayuri, Bexy seems all the more full of confidence. "There's much we don't know. Why Ketenblaet helped you, for one. What i do know is that we have the upper hand, and i much intend to keep it that way. We will get you everything you can back, and for the things we cannot, we will make them pay in blood."

"Well, my honeymoon was just a slight bit extended.. Sorry about that." A faint chuckle left her, head sinking into a nod. ".. It's almost disturbing that he did help us, considering my history with him.. And I just can't understand why." She raised her head a touch, offering another nod. ".. They will pay. One way or another."

"…Guilt, perhaps? Or an ulterior motive, as you said." A small shrug of her shoulders… Before Bexy's expression warms into a grin. "Oh, please don't. After everything you two have been through, you deserve it. I did get you something for your namesday, mind. Nothing too fancy. But i know you'll like it."

"At least you weren't too lonely in my absence." Sayuri smiled, tilting her head curiously. ".. You did?"

"Lonely? No. Not lonely. But you were missed terribly, and i'm glad to have you home." Moving to a small stack of boxes beneath a set of stairs, Bexy pulls out a box. It's flat, light, and gift-wrapped with a dark red and gold bow. "And of course i did." Bexy muses, offering it to Sayuri. "Better opened with Eir, i think." A pause, then. "---And it's nothing like that, in case you're wondering."

Pyjamas. She so often wears his, i thought it would be nice to get them another pair to match. Same size and everything. Whether she takes these for herself, or they end up wearing whichever ones that come to them, i do not know. So long as she's happy and it gets a chuckle from her at the gesture.

"I missed you too. And as lovely as our trip was, I am glad to be home." A curious gaze follows Bexy as she retrieves the box, hands slowly reaching out to accept it. ".. I figured you'd warn me if it was." She laughs.

"Precisely." Bexy grins, humming. "What did he get you, for your namesday?" A pause, then. "He did get you something, yes?"

"Well.. He sang to me, when I awoke from my nightmare and I was in such a large amount of pain." Her fingers idly tap against the box, a small smile settled on her lips. "We spent the entire sun on a date, creating memories together. So while it was no material gift, it's one I will hold incredibly dear."

"It's… Thoughtful." Bexy considers, quietly. "What to get the woman who could buy most anything she wants? Something money cannot buy. He's smarter than i give him credit for." Bexy teases, humming. "…I'm glad you had a good time. I was starting to get worried that you weren't coming home…"

"I promised I would! And I am sure you'd come all the way to Thavnair to make it so if I didn't let you know we were extending our stay." She laughs, smiling. "I just.. had to make sure we could get some things with us… That Eir doesn't know about yet."

"I would." Bexy wasn't joking, and Sayuri would be able to tell. "Oh? His namesday is… Soon, yes? What better things to get him than the things from home, mm?"

"In about a couple of sennights." She smiles, pausing. "..A home?"

"Hah, i suppose you could! You have enough coin for one, certainly!" Bexy half laughs, smirking. "What did you actually get him?"

Sayuri's smile only increases in size, offering no other words.

"…Sayuri." Bexy begins. Her eyes widen, brow knitting. "---You're serious?"

".. I may have bought a house."

"A house?" It takes all of Bexy's willpower not to raise her voice. "B-but--- Where are you going? Are you moving to Thavnair?" Her voice turns pleading, lips curled into a frown, hand settled on her shoulder. "You're moving away from the company…?"

She... She is moving away? But i... Not far, i hope? I don't.. I don't want her to be too far away...!

"A house, in the Lavender Beds. If anything, I'm moving closer to you!" Sayuri laughs, raising a hand to settle it atop of Bexy's.

There's no small sigh of relief from her nose as Sayuri gives her answer. "I'm happy for you, obviously! Just-- I can visit, yes? I'll call ahead of course!" A small wrinkle of her nose. "…We'll still go out training? You'll still come to contracts?"

"You're my sister, of course you can visit. And yes, everything will remain the same. We'll train, I'll come to contracts, and continue our daily meets if that is what you wish. And I will make sure to stock up on rolanberries for your inevitable visit." Sayuri grins.

Bexy's expression slowly curls into a grin, then. "Good. You had me worried, then. My little sister, getting married and having her own home…" A pleased sigh, as Bexy's tail danced at her heels. "…I'm happy for you. Truly. You deserve this, though i know the present is mostly for him. Does he know?"

"I'm not going anywhere, Bexy. This is where I belong, and it.. has been a long time since I felt like that about any place." Sayuri smiles, tilting her head. "He.. does not. I am hoping to have it set up by his Nameday. But he'll likely whine at me for spoiling him." She laughs.

"Oh, let him whine. He can whine in his cosy new home with you. I look forward to seeing it, hm? Do let me know if you need any help?" Head tilted in much the same was as Sayuri's, Bexy gives a pleased hum.

"And he will. Just like he did when I paid for a very expensive room for our stay in Thavnair." Lips curled into a grin, she offers a nod. "I will be sure to let you know."

"Coin is simply a tool. The best things can't be bought with it, so we might as well use it on something more… Frivolous." Chuckling, Bexy shakes her head. "…Spoil him. His happiness is yours. Remind him of that next time he's pouting."

"Oh, I intend to.. He can't stop me." Sayuri muses, ears wiggling faintly. ".. I will tell him that when he inevitably whines."

"Good." Bexy chirps, tilting her head. "…I have missed you, sister. But i won't keep you here all morning. We can catch up proper tomorrow, hm? You can tell me all about your honeymoon."

"I missed you too. And we will. For now, I.." A brief pause, Sayuri's gaze lowers to the box on her arms. ".. I'd like to go hug Eir, I think."

"I'm certainly not going to stop you. Go to him. You might start suffering withdrawals, it's been a bell or two." Bexy teases, offering a warmer smile a moment later. "I'll see you tomorrow, Sayuri. Until then, yes?"

"Oh, -hah-!" Sayuri pouts, only to immediately smile afterwards. "I'll see you tomorrow, sister." With that, she heads for the door.

She is happy, and that is what matters to me. With her new husband, with her new home. And, Gods willing, her aether too, when we manage to repair it.

[badlydrawnmanic]

more stuff from my paint folder under the cut with varying levels of explanation

my owlfolk rogue d&d character as a shitty little baby because baby birds look miserable and it's funny

shut up

a square full of bugs

weird arcade cabinet thing from a dream i had. i didn't draw it on here but it had sonic underground decals and stuff and as prizes it'd print off stickers and random screenshots from the show that'd come out that side thing. i don't know why but it had a trackball

i was doodling a bunch of critters for some reason. i think it was low-key inspired by @mossworm's art and in my head it was for some kind of critter collection game idea

i forget what this is about but i think it speaks for itself. despite being in the paint folder it was very clearly not drawn in paint

dinosaurs in love

again not a paint drawing but a manic i drew on drawception

tails lost in the sauce (a plant poofed a fuck ton of pollen right in his face and he is not having a good time)

i drew this while sleep deprived and proceeded to break down into a laughing fit. no i don't know what it is and it's called god.png

a miscellaneous character i have named gordy gatorman. he's gay and owns a bakery

the same doodle of my owlfolk rogue plus two more things (she hates everyone)

i don't have an explanation for this one i just thought the belt attached to scourge's coat was stupid (you know this is old because of my "colored lineart only" phase)

i think the original text for this was slightly nsfw but this is funnier actually

"hjpt ;leg.png"

one of my many interpretations of a human sonic, this one leaning more into "grumpy teenager" than anything else. i usually don't draw humans so this is surprisingly nice looking

there's 3 more panels to this but i just wanna acknowledge those sad lobsters in the dirty ass tank at the grocery store. they looked so sad and i always wanted to take them home

it me

me and my @kinslee-the-normal-human's oc. we used to rp a lot and they'd get into all sorts of bullshit with mr. tall echidna always being like i told you this would happen and being generally upset about it but his teeny tiny girlfriend could not care less. this time it was about vampires but he's just vibing

one of my ocs just kinda turns into fire when he goes super and i thought the idea of his clothes burning off was hilarious

hard to explain but my friend made an au where like every possible fusion of two characters that could exist did exist all at once in a weird little sci-fi society and we roleplayed it a ilttle bit. my main character for it was an amy/manic fusion named pippin and they had anxiety

in the background you can see salyut (he was actually made for this au as a shadow/biolizard fusion), maroon (a shadow/knuckles fusion), and... man i forget his name but he was a sonic/shadow fusion. the character in the second to last panel is a mephiles/tikal fusion who was part of the evil sci-fi government or whatever and she scared pippin a lot. i might repurpose pippin because they're very cute

@kinslee-the-normal-human told me that you can tell if someone is a furry based on how they draw dogs so i drew a dog and she said i was a furry based on how i drew the back legs. she was right but i don't get the test lmao

one of my ocs sort of got sucked into amy's family unit and he's in a sort of younger-ish sibling role to her (despite being older) and she makes him very happy and he loves her very much. they are friends :)

pov you are talking to razor on discord and he is happy to see you

this is called "scourge peep.png". i don't know why it's holding a knife

me and my friend drew pokemon from memory at a sleepover. i think from the different art styles you can tell which ones i drew nsjkdgs

i was playing the sims and made a version of gyro on it and he just kept getting abducted by aliens. i couldn't stop him

[wardenred]

Sapphic September 9: Time Warp

Yet another free writing exercise, pretty much.

There's this one magical summer evening that is going to last forever. I go there every time I'm sad. Sometimes, I mess things up, but that's fine. I can always come back again and fix things. As long as that time distortion behind the old oak tree exists, nothing can stop me.

* * *

On that evening, we keep meeting for the first time, Erin and I. Every time I step around the oak and open my eyes, I'm seventeen again, and so is she. She is sitting on a bench between two blooming bird cherries, her legs stretched out, her guitar case propped against her thigh. In her hands, there's that phone that now looks ancient to me, a glossy red thing with a flip screen and actual buttons. She's poking at it, a small frown creasing her brow. She is beautiful. 

Then she looks up and sees me, and her frown turns into a tiny surprised smile, and I fall in love at the first glance all over again.

* * *

I like visiting that evening when we fight. It doesn't happen often, mind you, but sometimes, things get out of hand, you know? Our friends think we're this super solid ride or die couple, but once you've been together for a decade and a half, stuff tends to amass. Little grievances, silly hurts. Sometimes, life gets stressful and we unload all of that on top of each other, and then I cry, and Erin sulks, and we stick to the different parts of the house for a while.

Sooner or later, I head off to the park and walk around the tree. In the past, everything is simple and sunny and we have no history yet. Only a big, bright, everything-is-possible-and-nothing-hurts future.

* * *

Sometimes when I'm in the past, I try out different things. I wear fake personalities like gloves: one time I'm a manic pixie dream girl, another time I'm an aloof goth princess. I flirt more than I would have known how at seventeen—and frankly more than I would these days, too. I call Erin by her name before she introduces herself. I tell her I'm from the future. I tell her I'm her soulmate. I do all sorts of crazy things.

About half of the time, I end up having fun. We end up having fun. We laugh together, we stay out after dark, we explore the city. Some of those starts feel even better than the real one. But when I come back around the oak, my present life is never the way I left it. My keys don't match my locks. I can't get into my own phone. The barista at the coffee shop across the street doesn't recognize me.

There is no Erin.

It's like there was only ever one way for us to click for life. It was a miracle, really, how we drew that single lucky ticket on the first try.

So most of the time, I simply reenact our original first meeting. Over and over. Over and over.

She looks up at me and smiles. I duck my head and remember how I asked myself why I blushed. I ask her for the time. She asks me why I'm soaking wet. I tell her I just jumped into the fountain. She asks, "No shit?" I shrug. She asks me why. I lie to her and tell her it was on a dare, and then I spin a tale about some friend who pushed me to do it.

This is the part I most wish I could change. That friend, you see, is imaginary. There was no dare. I only jumped because I wanted to see what drowning would be like. If that was something I might like. I had this notion that maybe it would feel nice, like letting go, and that maybe I would stay under until everything was over. I didn't want to die, but I didn't not want it.

I was seventeen and slightly unhinged. My life was drama. Don't sue.

Anyway, I came up for air in under a minute. And then I met Erin and dying was the last thing on my mind.

But that's the one lie I've told her and never cleared up: that I was there with some friend who was visiting from another town, that it was my friend's idea. Back when everything was still new and nebulous, I wanted to tell her the truth but I didn't know how. And then when things got more solid, more real—well. I knew even less. Because by then, my non-existent friend Tricia was kind of a fixture in our lives. I kept mentioning her. It seemed like a good idea. Erin asked questions. Tricia got a life. A personality. Then moved to Australia to explain why she never visited.

We still bring Tricia up sometimes, even though she and I have officially lost touch. Just the other day when we were celebrating our anniversary Erin said how strange it was she never got to meet the person who'd essentially brought us together.

So, yeah. This is my least favorite part. The one I've most often tried to tweak behind the oak. But every time I tell her the truth, I come back home and my life has no Erin in it.

* * *

What does it say about us that our one lucky ticket is made of lies?

I don't know. When I think about it too hard, we end up arguing. Like this morning.

I guess I'm going around the oak later today.

[ashen-laguz]

ok so in project moon games, whenever someone has like. really really REALLY intense emotional spikes, to the point of completely shaking their very core beliefs or crumbling something they deeply attatch themselves to or whatever, they tend to essentially go sicko mode - tho the extent of said sicko mode depends on like. how well they handle it.

if they can accept it and move on, then they manifest EGO which is like. essentially being a super human. if they don't and let their negativity eat at them, then they distort and essentially turn into some sort of abomination creature that causes trouble and probly kills

a lot of EGO in limbus / all the EGO in lob corp is based on various abnormalities in the games (abnos essentially being SCP-like creatures) so i thought it'd be fun to doodle some EGO for different hatoful characters based on different abnormalities!

…how i drew dream of a black swan EGO for hitori def veered more into distortion territory tho. o o p s

anyways imma copy-paste the dream of a black swan lore under the cut for those who are curious because i picked this one for hitori for good reason :)

"Elijah had a large family to provide for."

"Her impoverished parents would always say: “Although we don't have anything to pass onto you, we have the most valuable treasure, honesty and diligence. These may not be of great help to you now, but they will make all of you happy someday.” "

"One day, a dense fog covered the city. The hazy fog, thought to be a natural phenomenon at first, didn't dissipate even after a few days had passed. Some claimed it was making them feel nauseous or making them retch, but most people thought nothing of it. A lot of people continued to work and go about their days in the fog. Of course, Elijah was one of the people who had to be okay with it. She was the only family member with a proper job, and the inheritance of poverty had left them in huge debt. Elijah had several brothers, but their wills were broken after being faced with several failures. Elijah was always tired, but she thought if she just worked a little harder, things would work themselves out. Just like what her parents used to say to her, and just like in fairy tales. Just like that bird who eventually spread its white wings and became the envy of all."

"Some people left the city to escape the fog. They said the city was done for. Elijah didn't listen. Elijah felt queasy at times. She felt her whole body blistering. Almost there, just a little more; if she held out just a little longer, the clothes made of nettles would be complete, and if she threw them to her brothers she once loved dearly, then the days when her family lived harmoniously could be restored."

"One day, on the way home after work, she bumped into a pedestrian running at full speed. Though the pedestrian who crashed into her was at a full sprint, he was unable to get back up, so she offered him a helping hand, asking if he was alright. He slapped her hand away and got up on his own. The pedestrian took a few faltering steps before collapsing again. The man seemed like he was running away from something; he seemed worried that Elijah would hurt him. Elijah tried to ask him what was wrong.

However, the pedestrian opened his mouth first. The simple act of opening his mouth seemed labored, so she patiently waited for him to talk. The pedestrian didn’t open his mouth to speak; he began to vomit a mixture of blood and waste. The gooey mixture poured from his mouth at first, then it gushed out from his nose, ears, and eyes. If he hadn’t been expelling from all of his orifices, then Elijah might have tried to help him. Elijah thought she heard a shout in the distance. She left the vomiting man behind and started to walk slowly."

"What happens when the black swan wakes up from dreaming of a white swan? There were many people amidst the fog. Some screaming, some laughing. Some wielding clubs, some curled up; bodies covered in wounds. Dark, wet, and fetid dregs were scattered all over the ground, covered in footprints. She began to look for her brothers. Her family who needed to wear the nettle clothing to be free from the curse. Ones whom she shared happy dreams with. She saw her dear brothers in the distance. Elijah fell to her knees and finally started to puke up the thing everyone else was vomiting. The lake ripples gently. As if a number of swans just took flight."

[pankomako]

holy FUCK this blew up overnight. really cool hearing everyone's answers, now i wanna share

this deer skull found just outside the cabin my parents used to own & rent out in the Appalachians

my double-jointed left thumb (but not my right for some reason. im so asymmetrical lmao)

on my family's first trip to Germany like a couple years ago, we concluded it by spending a weekend in Paris and that's when we went inside the Eiffel Tower. the stairs were BRUTAL. i dont have any pictures from the interior but here's a couple i took

my dad's parents divorced and both remarried and that's how i have 6 grandparents. it's been that way my whole life and i didn't realize the situation until like sometime within the past few years LOL. luckily they're all in Louisiana so we get to visit them all on the same trip

i have a friend who's done stuff with jerma. it's this guy

he was also in dougdoug's shufflemania. yeah the big funny-looking dude. i've known the guy for about 7 years and been one of his mods for maybe close to 5. he's a goofy idiot and he's super super nice and i love him :)

i'm not from Florida but i've been there plenty of times so i certainly have seen wild dolphins there. and maybe in South Carolina too idk

as for the alligator there used to be a cajun restaurant my family liked to visit every once in a while (unfortunately now closed) and i tried some fried "alligator bites" there once as a kid. was pretty good and yeah kinda like chicken. i was born n raised in Virginia but both my parents are from Louisiana so ✌️

was HUGE on angry birds at one point in my childhood. i played a lot of the games, watched all the shorts, even drew the characters. this was before the movie when they were going HAM with the spinoff games. truly the peak of the series i lowkey miss that era

my brother (who's turning 13 in a few days!) LOVES trains. has done so pretty much his whole life. he nitpicks about trains and train sounds in media and gets excited any time he sees a train. definitely not something i'm into but i cant bash his interests

the man with the yellow hat's actual name is ted shackleford. i dont remember where specifically i got this information but i certainly know it. also the original movie is literally so pretty art-wise can we talk about that. (my brother likes the sequel. guess why.) (the third movie was so boring and unnecessary why did they make it (yes they made a third one genuinely dont bother with it))

as always, reblog to get more eyes on this post. :P

[whitherwordswither]

8:13 AM. I lay on my side, eyes blinking closed, body permeated with exhaustion. I hadn't slept well. Again. Or rather, not long enough. I had actually gotten to sleep without much issue. I just let myself stay awake until 2 AM. Then woke around 4:50 for a spell. Then returned to a short sleep until around 7:43.

It was nearing dusk in the other world. The sky just starting to dim around the edges. The glow of the sun did its best impression of a basin of embers, smoldering vibrantly across the horizon. I sat with Sebestha on his back porch, overlooking the garden. The gold-orange rays of the sun striking through the canopy of trees. A gentle breeze licking through their limbs.

We sat in relative silence, which on one level I didn't mind because next to Seb I felt very comfortable. But on another level, I did feel a little awkward because my brain insisted that I should be making some sort of small talk. His gaze lingered on a patch we had weeded and trimmed earlier that day. It was a lovely flowering vine that to me resembled the pairing of a pothos and cornflower. His left ear twitched and he set his paw on my thigh as he sighed contently and rested his eyes.

I smiled at this, placing my hand over his, thumb brushing along the side. The fox squirmed, adjusting some before leaning his head on my shoulder. I froze for half a second as my mind scrolled through a list of reactions before slowly nuzzling my cheek between his ears, laying my head against his. We stayed like this for a time, our hands trading placing, idly or absently trading faint caresses.

His voice, soft, was the first to break the silence. "I… appreciate you… being able to sit with me… like this."

The way he spoke was careful and slow, almost as if he were allowing a few extra seconds to make sure he said the right words. The wind rustled through leaves. A few birds chirped in the distance. Further off, some low noise from the town as it also wound down for the evening. I didn't say anything for nearly a whole minute, trying not to let my head trip over a rushed reply. "I… um…" I began, but stuttered and just squeezed his paw, giving the top of his head a little kiss.

He shifted again, turning a bit more toward me as he lifted his head, his eyes finding mine. His muzzle so close enough I could feel a slight warmth from his breath. I stared at him and before I knew it I had brought my other hand up and gingerly placed it against his cheek, smoothing fingers along the fur. He leaned a little closer, head tilting just slightly.

I closed the rest of the distance. A mix of curiosity and need or… I don't know. Wanting to express something I hadn't been able to conjure the words for? My lips brushed against his. Testing. A quiet murr rumbled in his throat and he pressed closer. There was a bit of a shuffle as we each squirmed, trying to find the best angle as we kissed. It was a little odd, given his muzzle, but we made it work. We were locked in that little dance for what amounted to an eternity and a split second all at once.

When we parted, I drew in a breath, then coughed and sat back further, coughing more. I had apparently forgotten how to breath and then how to inhale all in one go. Sebestha snorted and began to laugh. "Breathing is important!"

I playfully swatted at him, coughing more as I was now also trying not to laugh, hunching over. He rubbed a paw over my back, still chuckling, until I got my lungs under control and sat up. His arm moved around my shoulders and I snuggled up against his side, sighing. "…I couldn't imagine spending an evening any other way." That may have been a bit out of the blue, but I'd finally found the words I'd wanted to say.

He nodded his head and nosed over my hair, his tail swishing along the edge of the bench. "Are we going to be one of those sappy romance novels?"

It was my turn to snort. "I guess we need to have a heated argument next, then both storm off only to meet each other again at sunset, along the riverbank and apologize."

"In a shower of… limbs and… hushed words and… kisses?"

"Mhm. And then we will lay under the stars and uh… y'know. Confess our zombie love for one another."

"Zombie… love…?" He blinked, lifting his head to look down at me as he raised a brow.

"You know what I mean! Uh… the uh…"

"…Undying love?"

"That's it! That's the one. Yes."

We both giggled as we huddled closer, enjoying each others warmth as a cooler breeze spilled across the porch. The song of birds had faded to a chorus of chirping and chittering insects as the sky bruised in to night. Stars began to blink to life in the inky flood above. I nuzzled against Seb's neck and listened to the still faintly rumbling murring sound he made. Almost like a cat's purr.

"Read me more of T'Jari's story?" I asked after we'd been sitting for a few minutes, watching the stars.

This brought a smile across his maw the instant I'd said it. "Gladly."

So we both rose, stretched, and headed inside.

…

9:13 AM. I mumble incoherently and roll over to face the opposite direction. My stomach protesting. I need to make myself get out of bed and locate some sort of nourishment before I just wither away in to my bed.

[funnel-webbed-au]

Just Press Pause

Tag List: @skellebonez

Riley's Notes: It's just Lian and Syntax being fluffy and domestic. I guess I should give everyone a break after that horrific post where Syntax passed out lol Also, drop theme is Soft Serve by Rook1e and park bird

Lian rolled out of bed with a soft groan, annoyed that her husband had left before she was even conscious. The mantis stretched her claws out before fully returning to her humanoid form, though she left her antennas out. She knew he loved them, and she adored the tender touches he would sprinkle her antennas with.

Once she was up and out of bed, she checked her closet. For once, her favorite black jacket was conspicuously absent. It drew a raised eyebrow from the former peach maiden, who soon shrugged and slid on a casual dress and house slippers.

The moment she came out of the hallway and into Pierre's workshop, she found two things: Her jacket, and her adorable partner, asleep at his desk. His head was resting on a throw pillow directly on top of his mousepad, and her jacket was draped around his shoulders. She knew he loved to steal her things, but this was getting ridiculous. As much as it exhausted her, though, the sight made her golden heart sing.

"Hey. Hey, bug. Wake up, bug." Lanhua snickered as her husband released a few soft French swears, and was pleasantly surprised when one in Mandarin slipped out. Syntax reached for his glasses, and the moment he had them on, he turned to Lian.

The sight of her alone soothed the residual stress from the episode he'd had that night, and any and all thoughts that were bothering him fell to a back burner. He rose to his feet, then stretched, all while Lian patiently waited for him to finish.

Lian didn't waste a single second when her partner held his arms out to her. It was nice to feel his exposed hands, and she intertwined her fingers with his. A shudder came from the spider, but he soon relaxed and Lian purred while her bug smiled, returning the purrs at a lesser intensity.

"Good morning, bug." Those words alone brought a barrage of morning kisses. It was a nice change of pace to be on the receiving end for once, and Lian wasn't going to take that for granted. She scooped the smaller Demon up into her arms to allow him more access, reveling in every touch he doled out.

"Someone's happy today."

Her voice drew a soft snicker from the spider in her arms, even as he used his metal claws to ease some tension in his spouse's back. They did have their uses, as annoying as the spinal attachment could be, not to mention painful. But, the utility outweighed the temporary discomfort that came from taking it on and off.

"Of course I am. How can I not be when you're the one that woke me up?" Syntax chuckled as Lian cooed from his words, then froze up when she kissed him. It rarely lasted, as they both had work to do sooner or later, but this time, he pulled himself deeper into her embrace. Her arms around him, and his head on her shoulder... he really treasured these moments.

Syntax flinched and shuddered, clinging to her more tightly than before. He relaxed somewhat at the sensation of Lian's fingers in his hair.

"Hey, sweetie, how about we freshen up, then head out to that cafe my brother likes so much? I'm sure it will help." The way she'd lowered her voice, softened it, it brought a degree of comfort to the spider's stress-addled mind.

"Let me retrieve my meds first, blossom, I'll meet you outside." The spider pressed a kiss to her cheek, and she repaid him in a split second, covering his cheeks with kisses.

It was mornings like these that reminded him he'd have the support he needed, no matter what came. He had Lian, he had Maverick, and he had his extended family in turn.

It put him at ease.

[cursedfortune]

It was quite the collection, which was why she didn't hide her praise of it. Be it in her words, in her praise of his prowess, or in the way she studied his many trophies. If there was one thing about Mortem, it was that she always took her time to understand what was presented to her. Of course, she always also sought to understand all that wasn't, too. But that wasn't much the case with them.

Her finger slid along a blade lightly, light enough to not spill blood but she teased the possibility. Such sharpness, such strength... every weapon, every trinket had a specific purpose. It was beautiful to see, even if they were used against her people and beings she regarded highly. Dragons... they were a bit of a sore spot due to her world's circumstance, but it was still far more favorable than them going extinct like it seemed here.

Her hand drew away, "Now they are dusted, held prisoner, sending a message that'll endure the test of time itself." Mortem glanced over her shoulder at him. She knew what discouraged a mortal, she knew how to break a soul - a nation. A world. She had seen it. She had caused it. She had saved it. One of the most painful things someone could do was send a message and keep that message alive, constantly reminding others of it.

At his comment that her place was here, the witch turned fully to face him. A look of disagreement as she squinted slightly, processing his words. "My place is fulfilling my purpose." She corrected him calmly, not offended since she knew his operation by now. His clever little act when it came to keeping the heart pawns here and keeping a select few close enough for use while out in the field.

"Don't tell me you think this will be another scenario as the dove in the cage from the other day...?" Mortem quirked an eyebrow, reminding him of how he tried to contain her as a pretty little bird once. Even used his time to try and affect her and still she resisted, still she broke out. Did he really think she wouldn't simply leave if she wanted to? That blue earring that dangled from her lobe caught the light, a reminder she was no pretty face that stood passively by. If he wanted her love, her support, her heart to protect him - then he must continue to earn it.

"I don't mind staying here until I've learned more, especially if it eases your mind, my love." She smiled. Compromise. There wasn't a need for her to warn him what would happen if he tried to keep her here. She wasn't above carving her own through a path of destruction if he became overbearing.

They were newlyweds, newly bedded, newly... everything. There was much they had to learn about one another, which was why she approached him without threats. But she wouldn't be like the hearts here. The moment he tried was the moment she'd make his palace bleed red with their corpses. Never his heart, no. But theirs? She wasn't above such sacrifices.

"I'm glad to hear, however, your cultists are working so diligently. You're such an effective leader. No wonder you've been so successful all this time." She praised, loving his focus and ambition.

The knowledge he had given her, that his heart was within her chest, resting there safe and sound, lingering there and nothing more. He never carried it himself, he never held his own heart within his chest, such a thing would be foolish and a complete and utter waste of his time and efforts, as he needed to have it hidden, he needed to have it locked and sealed away within the chest of someone else, someone he adored, someone he cared for, someone he was head over heels in love with, someone like her.

Each little beat, she would feel, each little flutter would send a tingle up and down her spine, his life, his very soul rested within her.

Was it a risk, to do such a thing, it was indeed, and yet there was little to be done, the moment she tried to do it harm, it would move to someone else and another would be within the place, that was how it worked. You don’t live to be two hundred years old and do all the things that he has done within his life, without taking caution and being prepared for the worst possible outcome, he has been everywhere, done so much, the harm he has carried out, the chaos he has spread over the world, the amount of enemies he had now, meant that anyone and everyone wished to be the one to end him, he held the title as the man who could not be killed, a title that had been earned through his actions and growing and learning how to best use his abilities.

“It is quite the collection, you have to admire it, and those who poured endless years into the craft to be able to have command and sway over them. Often I like to stand here and see them, look at them and wonder, four hundred years ago these weapons came into the world to fight against the dragons and the witches. How many lives had they taken, how many dragons did each of these blades cut down from the skies, how many of the witches had been cut by them, there blood spilling onto the ground, how many of the witches had seen there end towards these wonderful blades, and then for all the time afterwards, they had been handed down, from one generation to the other, passed from one knight and hero to the other, giving them to those who had the worth and the talent to carry them and have command over them and now here they are, resting here, right before you, nothing more than mere trophies to be displayed.”

He turned and looked at the swords on the wall, his hands behind his back, fingers locking together, as he rocked back and forth on his heels for the moment, staring at them and the fluttering of magic as she cleaned them.

“You are my wife, your place is here.” Within this castle, what was out there for her anyway, nothing. The world was cruel, he adored his time here, hundreds of wives, fawning over him, looking after him, taking care of ever single sinful wish and request he had, why would she ever wish to go out there, besides her number was quite high, it would be some time anyway before he allowed her to be one of the several dozen he has to take with him when he departs from his kingdom into the world.

“The last of the swords, and the last relics of the witches, hidden within the world, I already have my followers in the world right now, seeking them out for me, it is only a matter of time before they are located.”