#short draft

[grieving-me]

Maybe it's me who dreams of unrequited love...

Sometimes I dream of unrequited love, the familiarity of it's pain so easy and predictable.

To me, being loved is a phantom pain, except my leg is very much there and yet I still feel the absence of it, hurting

It's as if I can't believe it's there or maybe I'm preparing myself for it to be taken away.

Being loved is like carrying something delicate while I can barely carry myself.

Sometimes, I trip

And even if what I carry remains unscatched, my heart breaks with every impact.

I wish I could just let myself be loved without being crushed under the weight of it.

[lamourest-bleu]

A small continuation of Memories of June. The piece is still in the very early stages and i’m still mulling through the rough draft but it seems to flow more easily than other writings as of late so I am really enjoying the process overall

[girlboyburger]

had an identity crisis, prime time for a slight sona redesign!

it's cow! (again!)

+ a closeup because i'm really proud of the eyes

[starry-bi-sky]

this just in: danny fenton is just as much of a mask as Brucie Wayne? - another danyal al ghul au

Turns out, being placed in a civilian family who have no knowledge of your background is actually detrimental to the health and development of a child assassin due to lack of proper support! Surrounded by strangers in a foreign city, Danyal Al Ghul does as assassins do best. He hides. Espionage is one of many teachings one learns in the League, and it only takes half a day for Danyal to construct a new persona to hide behind: Daniel Fenton.

By the time dinner rolls around, Danyal al Ghul is safely and securely tucked behind the face of Danny Fenton; brand new adoptive child of the Fenton family who came from overseas. A shy, quiet little boy with a thick accent and curly hair, with brown skin and blue eyes, and an avid interest in the stars. The best fictions are always cobbled together in a little bit of truth, it's some of the only truth he ever lets through. He apologizes in a meek voice for his behavior early, he didn't mean to be rude, and he watches the three of them eat it up with coos.

Lies roll like silk against his lips, he struggles to meet their eyes and offers them his weakest, shyest smile. It's too easy. It's easy to go from there.

Danny Fenton, adoptive son, shy and awkward and unconfident but friendly. Who struggles in his classes and isn't the brightest, but tries his hardest. He makes bad jokes and has a quick tongue and a sarcastic mouth. He wants to be an astronaut. He's got the best aim in school, and is a terrifying dodgeball player. He's one of the least athletic kids in his grade.

It's like playing two truths and a lie, but there's only one truth, and the rest are lies. It's easy to pretend when he knows it's insincere.

Danyal Al Ghul, grandson to the Demon Head. Deadly, trained assassin. Has spilled blood, has had blood spilt from. Environmentalist, animal activist. He loves the stars. He owns a calligraphy set. A sharp tongue, an even sharper blade. He's clever, quick-witted, he would be top of his grade if he tried harder. He purposely doesn't.

He misses his family. He misses his mother, and he misses his brother. Mother visits a few times a year, so few times that he can count it on both hands. He cherishes every visit, as brief as they are. It helps remind him who he is.

Sam and Tucker are Danny's best friends. They've never met Danyal, but Danyal's met them.

It becomes routine to become Danny Fenton. As familiar and as easy as pulling on a shirt in the morning. Danyal wakes up and is always first to the bathroom in the mornings; stares at himself in the mirror until he can finally see Danny staring back at him. At night, he locks his door and sheds the mask.

Dying throws a wrench in his mask; splits a crack straight through the porcelain. He's able to smooth it over with sandpaper and liquid gold, but it's a little hard keeping his ghost form under wraps. It instinctively wants to shift to show his true self. Danyal can't have that, he's spent four years as Danny Fenton, he'll spend another four as him as well. Even if the feeling of the hazmat suit in his ghost form feels restrictive, like a too-small shirt suctioned to his skin that needs to be peeled off.

He'll live. Er-- well, you know what he means. It's frustrating however, trying to keep his Danny Fenton mask up even as Phantom - fighting in the air is something he needs to get used to, and the sudden propping of powers throws him off. But he is nothing if not adaptive, and he hates that he needs to slow his own skills down in order to keep pretenses up in front of Sam and Tucker.

The first time Danyal summons a sword when he's alone, is one of the few times Danyal gets to grin instead of Danny. He's fighting Skulker, and from an invisible hilt he draws a katana from thin air. It startles them both. Skulker takes a step back at the smile that spreads across his face.

They're both silent as Danyal examines his new sword.

"Do you know what people like me do to people like you, poacher?" Danyal finally asks him, the accent he began to hide a few months in slipping through. He drops all pretense, dragging the flat end of the blade slow and appreciatively against his palm. It's a good make, and when he cuts it through the air, it slices through like butter. He looks up at Skulker with a smile; "are you ready to find out?"

When Sam and Tucker ask about why Skulker seems so skittish around Danny now, Danny shrugs at them and says with a playful smile; "I don't know, I guess I kicked his butt too hard after our last fight." and he watches as Sam rolls her eyes exasperatedly, and Tucker snickers with his own joke.

By the time he reunites with Damian before their 15th birthday, Danyal is buried beneath so many layers of Danny Fenton that his brother will need a shovel to dig him out. He's not sure what he'll find.

[tsurumi-tetsuko]

Scenario Prompt: Home is Where Your Nose is

WARNING: ARACHNOPHOBIA

Momma said to be careful today, so I am. I sit quietly in a warm basket of webs etched to the wall. I think we are quite blessed to have warm webs to sleep in, because during the reunion with our "corners of the wall" web cousins, they always lament that their webs are cold and preys are getting smarter. I feel bad for them. Our webs are warmed by the very pulsing walls around us, and our food is supplied fresh every day. Our hunters would expertly dig them out and roll them up to the storage web for later consumption.

Not to mention, our food has different consistencies. Depending on the weather, sometimes they are crispy and crunchy, other times they turn up chewy and have a sticky-web-like consistency. I'm a crispy-enjoyer though dad prefers the chewy-kind. Where others have to wait for their prey to entrap themselves in their web with boundless patience, our family gets their nourishment from fresh produce that never run around. I wasn't born at the time, but my siblings love to tell stories about the 'Great Slog'. The name is as it suggests, the walls are covered in this sticky, white slog and we lost many webs during the disaster. We had no choice but to migrate towards the inner, warmer depths to hide out. It's forbidden to venture too far in the tunnel, becuase the temperature gets hotter and hotter the further you go.

"Ah!” I couldn't help but scream when the wall above me caved in.

I was too distracted in my memories that I almost died.

One unpredictable thing about our cave is the structure of the walls. In regular occasions, these walls were as tough as steel. Othertimes they give way and smoosh against one another like they were newborns. We only get a small warning before it happens, but usually, it's from the rumbling. Our bodies shiver unconsciously, and we have to hide immediately. My strong uncles have dug holes in the bottom of the tunnels for us to hide in instead of having to estimate which way the wall would cave in and then run in the opposite direction. It increases our chances of survival, but these caving ins happen much regularly.

Then, the walls revert to normal and the rumbling stops. I take a deep breath before warily pulling myself out of the warm webs. I lock eyes with Momma who was hiding near the back, and she gives me a warm smile.

“Well done," Momma praised.

Then, the slowly manuvered to the front of the tunnel, where she sat in a crater of sorts.

Momma said my siblings are coming soon, and this family will get bigger, but she gets tired really often. She rarely helps out with the hunting anymore.

As I approach her, she says, "Look."

She points her pincer, and I obediently glance over. The Outside is always a marvel to see, but today, it was bright. The yellow-beam of the sun dances across the pale background that stretches from the opening of the tunnel until it is hidden by a folded-white skeleton of some sorts. I know the tunnel is mobile, and it changes from time to time, but the tunnels remain our home.

"Do you see it, dear?" she prompted.

I squinted my eight eyes, but I don't know what she wants me to look at, so I ask, "What momma?"

"That, do you see how it's so vast and so rich in colour?" Her voice was full of wonder as she explained, "That's grass."

I take it in, and I am in awe. The 'grass' enveloped the tunnel's limbs completely with their sharp tentacles.

"What colour is that, momma?'

"That is green, your grandmother told me."

"Green," I say. It's beautiful.

"When you have a chance, tell your siblings that too. Grass is green, and it's beautiful."

I smile and rub my head against my mother's. "Of course. and remember mom, I get to name one of them!'

She chuckles. "There'll be thousands to choose from, and I promise to let you name one."

My momma is the heart of our tunnel, and soon, she'll be giving birth to thousands more of us. I can't wait to show them my favourite nook!

[anony-mouse-writer]

grian as the strange man who appears suddenly on gem’s dock with no explanation. no one knows who he is.

no one saw him arrive and he has no car.

he’s never bought anything from the store, and a few locals said they saw him simply cooking and eating the fish he catches on the spot.

the only belongings he seems to own are his fishing gear.

when asked where he lives, he points to the cliff. there is a tiny blue house there, balancing precariously on wooden stilts. the house has never been there and no one’s seen it before, but the local gas attendant pulled up a 40 year old photo of her grandma on the beach, and sure enough, the tiny house is there, a wee speck of color hanging like a barnacle on the cold, wet bluff.

the age of his mysterious little home aside, no one’s sure when he visits it. he’s at his little dock before the earliest ships cast out, and the sickly glow of his lantern can be seen long into the coldest of nights.

the man has pulled the strangest things from the ocean. fish, to be sure, but other, stranger things. lily pads, far from their native biomes. fishing poles, tattered and worn, of various makes and styles- some look positively ancient. boots. giant shells with twisted patterns to match no living thing. a genuine horse saddle once. bowls. a bone that looked just a bit like a human femur.

and books. perfect, unblemished books, nearly glowing with some kind of energy and filled with a script both unfamiliar and unsettling to see.

he opens them each with a breathless anticipation that tastes like brine or maybe tears.

but whatever he sees in them is not what he wants, and each book is tossed aside with resigned disgust and something like despair, before the weathered pole is taken up to cast a line to sea once more.

[kitkabam]

Thinking about Lucanis' lack of experience in the romance department added with the fact that he's confirmed as a romantic. Imagining that all these years he's probably longed deep down for such a close connection with someone, a person to be his shoulder to lean on or to wake up to every morning, but had to suppress all of those frilly desires— to not provide his enemies a weakness, because it didn't fit his 9-5 mentality, and because of his duties to the Antivan Crows.

Until Rook comes into the picture.

Rook changes everything.

And that terrifies him.

[thatdeadaquarius]

So like I just went through almost all your language posts and I was wondering what if like the creator sometimes just switches languages out of no where and everyone is just like:😃. Cuz like they don’t understand what they mean and it happens randomly too or when they’re irritated and they just start cussing in like 3 different languages at once

IM SO SORRY TO DO IT TO YOU-

but i think ive written some stuff abt this before?

u know what tho.

ive got an even better idea. my “go-to” if you will.

Torture Alhaitham.

>:)

^^^ ALHAITHAM RUNNING U DOWN AFTER YOU SAY EXACTLY (1) WORD IN ANOTHER LANGUAGE HE’S NEVER HEARD-

☆

Sun: Gender neutral Reader (you/they/them)

Orbit: SHORT headcanons-ish?, Language shenanigans!

Stars: Alhaitham (suffer lol)

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: None Known & Trigger Warnings: None Known.

he’s watching you. constantly.

he’s always writing about you.

he’s following you around Sumeru City.

he’s following you around Port Ormos.

he’s at your house-

Alhaitham learns you speak multiple languages before any other akademiya schloar, and he’s submitting a thesis about “the Greatest Lords languages from their home world”

before you can even say “I’ll think about it” in any language u know lol

people have definitely mistaken him as your favored acolyte (not that he does much to deny it)

and talk to him like he’s your secretary?? …oh, welp.

Alhaitham knows your schedule for the next month within a week of following you

mans is willing to do the MOST to get you to sit down and just start talking in a language at him

want food? his specialty dish ingredients are always at the ready at his house

want literature? he’s offering to literally break into the akademiya (or giving you a copy of his house key to have access to his personal library all the time)

(tho kaveh is practically hugging you to his chest as you walk around perusing as he talks ur ear off lmao)

Haitham (he sometimes insists you call him when it’s just you two) wants to singlehandedly be the first person who understands every word you say when u coo at dogs in another language

or cuss out a fictional character for being stupid

CRYING U CANT EVEN GET MAD AT HIM BC

every time u get pissed he’s interrupting every other word you say to ask for definitions/clarifications of slang 😭

send help he’s made a red string theory board of all the languages you’ve used to try and just- make sense of all their rules and when you use them and how to tell the difference and oh no-

Alhaitham’s hanging pictures of you mid-sentence with ur mouth open or even worse when ur yelling.

…u know maybe its not for an akademiya project, maybe he’s just trying to humble you. 💀

☆

thanks again for sending this ask in!! :D

language sagaus my beloved <3

tbh i have likeeeee 54 things in my drafts rn? so needless to say im slow, BUT IM SO HAPPY U GUYS GAVE ME THIS MUCH TO FAWN OVER, REQUESTS OR NO <333333333333

:]

an iced coffee? for me?? :O

☆

Safe Travels Ariasdream,

💀♒

☆

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi / @fallen-starr / @areaderofbooks

[cyber333angel]

FLUFF WITH RAFE

rafe was in his office dealing with a bunch of paperwork about some “gold treasure” that you honestly didn’t understand, telling you earlier that he couldn’t pay attention to you right now and to find something else to do till he was done. you were beyond bored watching the tv, only wanting to spend some time with your boyfriend. so you crept up the stairs quietly, not wanting to disturb him as you opened the door. watching him flip through white papers and scroll through his computer, his face displaying a serious expression. rafe notices your body in the doorway, seeing you watch him carefully. “what is it baby? what happened?” he says, you take his words as an invitation into the office as you walk towards him, “nothin happened. i just wanted to see you daddy..” and he rolls the chair wheels towards you, a very welcoming posture. you climb onto his lap, straddling his waist as rafe rest one arm on your back. gently rubbing it up and down while you lay your head on his shoulder quietly hear him work. he gives you your ass a light squeeze here and there when you nuzzle your head in to the crook of his neck, inhaling his calming cologne scent.

[brisling]

a good time with shortform manga

Couple things I read in the last few months and liked!

My So-Called Artist's Journey by Akiko Higashimura (34 chapters)

This is on paper Akiko Higashimura's semi-autobiographical account of how she became a mangaka but also a story about being 40something and reflecting on significant mentor-mentee relationships you had when you were a teenager and an idiot and also about grief and regret and making art.... the protag is an ALL TIME flavor of selfish, silly, vain, and irresistibly charming and I love her with my whole heart.

Little Forest by Daisuke Igarashi (33 chapters)

I am a huge huge sucker for stories that feel hyperlocal and this is one of the MOST About A Specific Place stories I've read in a minute. It's a fictionalized account of the author's experience subsistence farming in rural northeast Japan. AND it's a cooking manga. Just an extremely lovely, meandering, recipe-a-chapter portrayal of day to day life (I am also a huge fan of stories where you can really FEEL the passage of time and this has got it in spades), with a healthy dose of "competent home cook just fucking around!" that I really enjoyed.

Girl's Last Tour by Tsukumizu (42 chapters)

GLT is pretty well known I think? End-of-the-world slice of life with two girls wandering through the ruins of an enormous postapocalyptic (very Very Blame!-flavored) city. I think Tsukumizu does such a good job keeping the tone chill and even while the characters are moving through desperate, scary, weird, and funny beats -- the vibes are like, "lighthearted hopeless" where the camera never lingers and things are rarely resolved. Had an extremely good time!

An Invitation From A Crab by panpanya (14 chapters, short story)

I THINK SHAUN TAN APPRECIATORS SHOULD READ INVITATION FROM A CRAB. Each chapter is a short story and they are funny and offbeat and weird and also basically never have a resolution. One part "hey, wouldn't it be fucked up if--" one part "here's a dream I remember like 2/3 of" one part just fun jokes! I immediately ordered a physical copy on finishing.

[maginnmauvaise]

he takes nothing seriously man

vamp dia, vamp hunter luci

vers under cut has a dribble of blood and dialuci implications

[grieving-me]

Interrupted

The bar is crowded with people,while soft jazz music is playing in the background. It's a busy Friday night, and I'm sitting alone at the corner, nurnsing my drink. It's some sweet cocktail I don't remember the name of.

It's been a shit day or rather it's been a shit week, months- years even and I am so sick and tired of it all.

So I'm sitting there, thinking about my life, and how little of it I even lived. How most of it was spent trying to survive.

"For what? " I ask myself as I drown the rest of my drink.

I can't seem to find a compelling reason, or a good excuse for it anymore.

The thing is, I often dream of death

Yet I don't see him as some scythe wielding dark figure in the dark or as some hungry beast preying on innocent souls. It's the opposite, really.

When I dream of him I dream of gentle hands, kind eyes and tender kisses that make my pain fade into sweet nothingness-

The atmosohere in the bar changes and I look up, my train of tough interrupted.

[lamourest-bleu]

Memories of June 2023

A romance-esque story of two individuals who struggle to navigate their relationship (let alone themselves) and ultimately go on a journey of sorts to do so.

A lot of romance portrayed in writing seems to either be the perfect romance or enemies-to-lovers so I wanted this writing to encapsulate a more realistic approach to the concept of love— that its work and progress not perfection

[ocularmacdown]

i love south park the show famously about four best friends who have sleepovers and are super nice to each other all the time amen

[sazwritesstuff]

Truth or Dare | bob x reader drabble

synopsis: a night down at the Hard Deck with the Dagger Squad. Drinking, playing pool, trying to stop Rooster from playing Great Balls of Fire one more time, and Bob feeling shy and staying on the sidelines. Until he’s roped into a drunken game of truth or dare. 

word count: 1025

inspired by this post

use of Y/N, dn reader, nervous Bob, alcohol (brief mention), drinking games

It was a fairly typical night down at the Hard Deck. Drinking, playing pool, Rooster trying to get his hands on the piano but being constantly pulled back down into his seat. 

There were only so many times any of you could listen to Great Balls of Fire.

It didn’t take long before the squad began playing drinking games. You weren’t sure who suggested playing a game of truth or dare. But here you were, sipping on your drink and listening to your squadmates playing a classic from your teen years. 

Most of you had been drinking for a few hours now. Well, expect for Bob. 

The poor spectacled man had been strong armed into playing by Phoenix. He’d been quite happy watching the game of pool between Payback, Bagman, Coyote and Fanboy sipping on his water and munching on his snacks. But he couldn’t say no when you joined in, backing up Phoenix to get him to play with the rest of them. 

Setting down a new round of shots you’d picked up from the bar, quickly passing them around, Rooster cleared his throat and called out “So, Y/N?” from where he stood by the pool table, shot in hand.

“Yeah?” you called back standing between Hangman and Coyote.

“Truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

“Alright, alright.” He paused looking around the group as if for inspiration before whipping his back dramatically towards you. “I dare you to kiss the hottest person here.”

Shrugging, trying to act nonchalant, “Hey Hangman?” you asked, turning to the man beside you. Bob felt his heart drop into his stomach. He hadn’t thought that you’d pick him but it still hurt seeing you chose Jake.

Jake smirked cockliy, “Yeah?”

“Could you move I’m trying to get to Bob?” the smirk dropped instantly from Jake’s face.

“Bob?!” he asked at the same time as Bob choked and spat out the mouthful of water he’d just sipped. “W-What?” he spluttered.

Y/N sighed good-naturedly, patting him on the shoulder, “Now, move out of my way Bagman.”

Jake raised one hand to his chest “You wound me, Y/N! I thought what we had was special.” Stepping aside as he quickly downed the shot in his other hand.

As you stepped closer, Bob gulped nervously and sliding his glasses up his nose to avoid your eyes. 

No way this was real. No way could you think he was the hottest person in the room. This had to be some sort of practical joke… right?

But you were still moving closer to him. One second you were sliding past Hangman and the next you were standing in front of him. “Hi.” You greeted quietly.

“Hi.” Bob breathed, his heart hammering in his chest a mile a minute. Palms sweaty he tried to wipe them on his thighs. Mouth dry, his tongue felt heavy in his mouth. Everything had turned into a blur. Everything except you.

“Is it alright if I kiss you?” you whispered to him, your own heart hammering, your own palms sweaty and your mouth feeling dry. You licked your lips. Bob followed the motion of your tongue and swallowed loudly. Not sure what to say other than “Yeah.” as he nodded, his voice sounding unsteady to his own ears. Without hesitation you swooped in and kissed him softly on the lips. It was short and sweet. Over before it could truly begin. But that didn’t stop it from being met by a chorus of catcalls and cheers.

You quickly sat yourself down on a stool on Bob’s right side. He didn’t take his eyes off you as you sat and downed the shot still clutched in your hands. You wiped your mouth the back of your hand before setting your shot glass down.

“Right,” you stated, slapping your thighs “Javy; truth or dare?”

“Uh, dare.” He answered quickly.

“I dare you-”

“Hold up, hold up.” Jake interrupted “Are we really going to just gloss over Y/N kissing Bob?”

“Well, if you want to know why you’ll just have to wait your turn.” Turning back to Javy you started again.

The game carried on a few more rounds, until Rooster tried to make a break for the piano again. Everyone seemed to have forgotten you and Bob sitting off to the side, the game now seemingly finished.

Despite your earlier burst of confidence, you had no idea what to do now that you and Bob were alone without the others or the game to act as a buffer. 

Bob cleared his throat breaking the silence that had descended over the two of you. 

“So, um, about earlier…”

“I-I know. Just-Just, um, forgot about it.” Feeling nervous and a little bit worried the reason why Bob hadn’t said a single word since you kissed him was because he didn’t feel comfortable about what had happened. You didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable and were mentally kicking yourself.

“What if I don’t want to forget it?” he asked quietly, turning to look intently into your eyes. “Because I know that if I’d been dared the same thing I would’ve kissed you, Y/N.”

“Oh.” You breathed as your face flushed with heat. Then a light bulb went off in your mind and a devious smile spread on your face. “Well then Bob, truth or dare?”

“Dare.” He answered lightning fast.

“Then I dare you to –” you didn’t even get to finished before his lips were on yours.

Bob’s hands cupping your jaw as his soft lips descended on yours. The kiss started off gentle until you brought your hands up to grab a hold of the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer to you. Crushing your chest to his. Your mouth opening with a small gasp and you felt his tongue licking lightly at your bottom lip asking for entry. You open your mouth just a little more, letting Bob slip his tongue inside. His hands had moved to wrap around your waist pulling you practically on to his lap.

Moving away reluctantly from Bob, feeling a little lightheaded. You could feel his lips against your as you whispered “So, your place or mine?”

[tsurumi-tetsuko]

A Bloody Peony: First Meeting

Yang Lüming was 7 when she decided to brave death's doorstep by sneaking into the palace. She'd been loitering around the area where the goods were transported into the castle. Being malnourished and a child, she easily snuck past a couple of guards and gossiping servants. She succeeded too, managing to carve a living by hiding among the ceiling beams of a secluded gazebo. 

Unfortunately, she was careless one day. Callously, her hand slipped and dropped her pouch. One that she used to keep a tiny amount of gold that she managed to pickpocket. To her dismay, the person who discovered her was none other than Qu Yuxin. 

"How long have you been here?" Qu Yuxin asked one night, nearly startling Yang Lüming off her perch. With her heart in her ears, she only released a shaky exhale in response. Fear coiled around her bones even as she was faced with a petite, bony girl with stars in her hazel-coloured eyes. 

"Hello? Can you talk?" Qu Yuxin asked after a beat of uncomfortable silence. 

Yang Lüming did not answer, instead, her nails dug into the wood harder. The sharp pain struck her nails, but she seemed to have statufied and her jaw was bolt shut by anxiety. 

Qu Yuxin's shoulders sagged in disappointment, but she leaned down to place a tiny pouch back on the floor. "I believe this belongs to you, I'm sorry I took it."

Yang Lüming scrambled for it with the grace of a monkey when Qu Yuxin left. She soon discovered that the coins were the same amount as before, though, they did have a new addition. There was another tiny cloth bundle inside the pouch, which she warily pulled out by pinching it. 

Inside the bundle, were instead a couple of candied nuts. 

Yang Lüming stared at them dumbfounded. Her eyes scanned the glistening nuts for an answer for this strange behaviour by Qu Yuxin, but she could find none. She couldn't fathom why the fifth daughter of Madam Qu, one of the members of the imperial harem, would bother returning it back to her. 

Perhaps it was a period of clouded judgement, but that night, she chewed through her 3 pieces of candied nuts before bed. That night, her dreams were sweet with a tang of nuttiness.

X Qu Yuxin did not stop. Even after a couple of nights of no response, Qu Yuxin still stubbornly visited late at night. After the first visit, Yang Lüming did some fact-checking and found her hypothesis to be true. Noble, young ladies like Qu Yuxin are supposed to be in bed by then, not visiting thieves by themselves in an area so secluded that the gazebo had a two-inch layer of dust atop its bench. 

Like every other night, Yang Lüming was secretly longing for Qu Yuxin's visit and remained bright-eyed even in the wee hours of the morning, but Qu Yuxin did not show up. Neither did she three nights later. 

Yang Lüming was left to wonder, what happened to her unlikely friend. Then, she did the unthinkable. 

She left the safety of her perch, of her gazebo, and ventured into the palace. Her bare feet were silent against the floor. She flitted across the dirt paths, manoeuvring past guards with the ease of a falling leaf. Then, she came to a stop before a door.

Her teeth bit her lower lip, and her feet were shifting unsteadily. She wasn't sure if this was a good idea now. If Yang Lüming were caught here, she would be beheaded where she stood, and no one would bat an eye. However, if she weren't here, she'd have to wrestle with the agonising mystery of Qu Yuxin's absence. 

She was here to settle the churning worry in her stomach, so she shall.

With a deep breath, she knocked a scarred wrist on the polished oak door.