#that title belongs to ONE for me and y'all know it already....but cross is a very close second<3333< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[yuriyuruandyuraart]

BESTIE!! BESTIE HAVE YA SEEN!!! CROSS WON THE AU SEXYMAN TOURNAMENT THING :DDD!!!!!

BROOOOO

YES YES I DID!!!! been following the polls at school with my friend screaming crying wailing when killer lost sadly....then going insane when cross was against error cause DUUUUUDE omgggg i thought for SURE HE WOULD LOOSE!!! :'D error simps are strong friendos....but i underestimated my fellow cross simps AYOOOO WE DID ITTTT<33333

[byulsgrease]

if you arent too busy, can you write a idol!hwasa x idol!reader, wherein they both have to practice with each other for a special stage. However on the first meeting they become starstruck and cant believe somethings are real, but soon warm up to each other?

i'm not terribly busy but this still took a while anyway oops - sorry this took so long anon! here you go :D

if anyone has requests for the other members hmu cuz I've got 2 more hyejin reqs after this one (not that I'm complaining)

"who says we can't do something on our own?"

(hwasa x idol!reader, ~1.2k words)

cw: food + alcohol mention (y'all know how it is)

I named someone Minjeong - it's not Aespa's Winter, idk anything about 4th gen gg's - 민정 is my Korean name so it's just what came to mind

"Hey, wake up. You've gotta see this. GET UP," a voice piercing through the fog of your sleep.

What a rude awakening. Your shoulders being shaken vigorously by a pair of small hands meant they belonged to none other than Minjeong, your youngest group member. You rolled over to glare menacingly at her with one eye open, trying to pull your brain out of the slumber. All you could see was the bright light of her phone shining in your eyes - a video of some kind. But then you heard the audio:

"Have you seen the clip?" asked the interviewer.

"Yes, my members and many MooMoos made sure I saw it"— Moos? Oh, it's Hwasa. WAIT. Both your eyes flew open as you sat up and snatched Jeongie's phone out of her hand to stare at the video. Your mind immediately flashed back to the interview you did last week - they asked who you most wanted to collaborate with, if there were no limitations. Your ears started to heat up at the sheer thought of the flustered mess of an answer you gave - of course you said Hwasa. Both of you debuted relatively close to each other, within a year, but never interacted much over the years. Mamamoo as a group was a force to be reckoned with, but there was just something about Hwasa specifically. You mostly just admired her unique singing voice and undeniable stage presence, and her relentless drive to always be herself in an industry constantly trying to fit women into a box.

Finally snapping out of re-living that embarrassment, your attention turned back to the phone in your hand. The interviewer must've asked her to send a message in response to you, because you couldn't believe that she was waving and saying, "How haven't we gotten to know each other better over all these years? I'd love to work with you on something sometime," curtly dipping her head in a slight bow.

"SEE? You needed to see that," Minjeong rushed to say, full of energy. "And close your mouth, your jaw's on the floor," jokingly pointing.

You side-eyed her and shut your mouth. "Is this what Loco felt like when she called him during Hyena on the Keyboard?" you wondered aloud.

"At least she's not calling you while on camera," she commented, knowing full well that you'd probably embarrass yourself again if she did. "But hey, at least she noticed you! Can I have my phone back now?" It would be a dream come true to collaborate with her, but cross-company collabs... always a pain. that couldn't be helped. The fantasy abruptly ended with demands from your rumbling stomach. Done with your what-if's, you placed the phone back in your maknae's outstretched hand to get up and make breakfast.

~~~~

With award show season rolling around, the crazy scramble of rehearsing for special live stages without leaking sets and collabs began. Checking your email that morning showed a schedule to record the backing track for a special live stage, but that was it. With who? You texted your members a screenshot, but they all told you that block of time in their schedule was empty. A solo stage? The solo mini-album you released this cycle did relatively well, the title track got a music show win, but not a multi-week chart-topper by any means. Possibilities turning over in your mind, you stepped out from your place to head to the company, totally in the dark about what was in store.

The recording studio always smelled the same along with the couches, a comfort for all the insanely long nights and crack-of-dawn early mornings over the years. With a bit of time to kill, you plopped down on one and gingerly patted the worn cushions as some kind of symbolic thank-you for supporting you (literally).

A hesitant but loud knock sent your gaze directly to the door. Watching it slowly open, you leaned forward to see who it was. Needless to say, your jaw fell to the floor again as you clapped a hand over your gaping mouth, eyes widening. Like a soldier obeying a command, you immediately stood up as straight as possible and bowed profusely at Hwasa, sporting a very similar expression on her face (which you failed to notice, your mind running a million miles a minute).

After a series of frantic bows and miscellaneous utterances to each other, she spoke. "It's nice to finally meet you," she said with calm, surveying your frenzied state. "I guess we're granting that collab wish from your interview, huh?"

The red-hot embarrassment leapt to your face. "I...I definitely made a fool of myself answering that question. And our maknae showed me your interview clip too, which was cool, but never did I think it would actually happen," you stammered. I should probably stop talking.

"Well, here I am," she half-smiled coolly. "Let's get started, I'm really looking forward to finally work with you on this," a gleam in her eye and a hint of excitement in her voice.

The studio suddenly felt a lot smaller with her in it, despite there only being your managers, the producer, and the both of you - less people than you and your members alone. Both of you remained relatively quiet the whole time, rather unsure of what to say or talk about. You watched enough MMMTV to know that all the members on their own were shyer than together, and Hwasa knew the same was true for you. But the work basically took care of itself, seamlessly taking turns in the recording booth, witnessing each other's work style and process. The both of you knew your way in front of a mic, seasoned professionals by now. Upon wrapping up, you bowed politely to each other after a quick exchange of KaTalk info, a short and sweet goodbye.

That was... anticlimactic. I mean, it's finally happening - I can't believe it. But maybe I was too idealistic about maybe creating a meaningful relationship with her outside of work... What does she think of me?

~~~~

In the days leading up to the collab stage, you kept going back and forth on whether to reach out or not, despite now being in possession of her contact info. What would you even say? Thoughts of a witty one-liner or relatable meme came to mind, but maybe she'd assume the worst - that you were clout-chasing, or something. Anxieties abuzz, your phone vibrated in your pocket. The KaTalk notification sprawled across your screen. Speak of the devil, it's her.

"Hey, awards season has me stressed. I know you must pretty busy right now too, but I somehow get off early tomorrow if you wanna grab dinner after work?" You had to reread that one. Oh, what? She's inviting me?

Trying not to be weird about responding too quickly, you typed out, "Wow, yeah, that sounds great! ^^ wait, your company doesn't care about you going out to eat during award season?"

"nah, they stopped having that kind of control over us a while ago, we are the money-maker of the company, after all 😏"

"so I guess this means they don't check your phone either ㅋㅋㅋ"

"nope :)"

You proceeded to set a time and place to meet, someplace with meat.

In the process of feasting on an inordinate amount of gopchang imbued with a splash of beer, you learned a fair amount about each other. You talked career, professional aspirations, the weird habits of your members, and more. What surprised you most was the amount of things she already knew about you, having admitted to watching some of your behind-the-scenes content after seeing your interview clip.

"Ah... I'm sorry if I came across as distant during that first recording session," she confessed, pausing to sip her beer. "I honestly didn't know what to do with myself, I felt a little star-struck."

"Oh what?? I felt the exact same, so no worries - and sorry if I came off similarly distant," you rambled back. A bit of silence fell between you, acknowledging the mutual sentiment. You spoke up after a bit, "Thanks for inviting me out tonight, I didn't realize how much I needed this."

"Thank you for making the time, I had fun getting to know you better," she articulated with a smile. "Maybe it'll make the collab stage better," she added on jokingly. You responded with a nod and expression of mutual affirmation.

~~~~

After that, messaging each other became a regular occurrence, that gopchang outing having broken the ice. Honestly, you tried your best to talk about anything besides work, but the baseline of shared understanding connected you in a way that came more naturally than it did with your non idol friends.

You stood across the way from her at the sound check for the final stage, dressed in joggers and slides. Funny to think that you'd be recording this for real in a couple hours, making eyes with the blinking red light on the cameras surrounding you. It sucks that fans wouldn't get to experience the energy and atmosphere of the performance - Hyejin alone is one thing, but adding someone else into her stage presence? Unmatched. There's nothing quite like a live performance - and while you knew everyone in the industry dealt with the consequences of the pandemic, it certainly took a toll to perform and not feel the energy from fans. But realistically, nothing you could do about it. The sound check went over smooth like butter. The stage chemistry came flowing naturally between you both, even when bare-faced and dressed in just sweats.

And when the time came for the actual filming, you both absolutely killed it, an upbeat mash-up of TWIT and your title track. At the very end came a sliver of hesitation before throwing your arms around each other with a big smile for the ending fairy, proud of the work you accomplished together, and a mental fist-pump to yourself for making friends with one of the industry's finest.

Once again walking to a restaurant that served mostly meat to celebrate, you playfully proposed, "We... should do that again sometime." A little puff of air came out her nose in amusement.

"Yeah, we should. Too bad we're gonna have to wait a whole cycle before we can release anything else together again," she sighed longingly.

"Who says we can't do something on our own?"

[throwing-summers-at-the-walls]

Hi, i hope you are feeling good! Im better than yesterday so i can finally answer you. First of all: i am so happy that you shared your fanfiction! i had a great time reading it! Im always open for more recs. Maybe your all time favorites? Or if you know some good h/c these are always welcome :) And YESSS please send me a link to your fanvids. -- yeah 13rw was super cursed. haha i also watched season 1 but thankfully i was able to sto watching becaue i could feel it making me feel bad (1)

I agree the suicide scene was just cringe (but i think i remember reading somewhere that they cut it out? idk) and overall this show just gave me the feeling that there was no hope and things are always getting worse instead of better and i hated that. but enough of that cursed show. can i just say i really admire how open you are about your feelings (like being suicidal and that) i realy, really admire this about you. i have so much respect for you that you can just share your feelings here (2)

I have never heard of ace attorney but that story you described sounds really good. and i get reading sth that isnt good for you and still doing it (because im a dumb bitch too :D) -- okay i might accept that Root will never grow on you (but i thought so too and look at me now :D) but i havent fully given up yet :)-- yes thats the girl. i think it was really sweet when she said that to Shaw. and i think Shaw appreciated it that someone tried to figure her out instead of just writting her off (3)

Shaw is really cool and definately also a badass and in combination with John its just great! but you will have to suffer trough some Shoot.  but maybe, maybe you will end up not hating Root. hope dies last (idk how the saying goes in english, sorry). -- Did you ever ship Caresse (in a romantic way)? cause sometimes i do and sometimes i dont and i get so confused about it :) but i think most of the time i like them more as friends. anyway her death really sucked and you are right with (4)

her death and them losing the library it felt like a different show (i mean i guess it was a different show then). i kinda get your feelings about the destroyed library because i also really loved it (and im really bad with change) but i dont think it affected me as much as you. but yeah i still missed the library very much. and while the subway is a really cool new place its not the same. (also the subway is super dark cause its underground and idk it just makes the whole thing less homey) (5)

Yes he is everything! such a great, interesting character and i wish there were more John-centric episodes! (like ones that explored his character more). that was one of my biggest dislikes of the later seasons that John wasnt featured as much anymore. i think he chuckled a few times in the show but a real laugh? i cant remember one :(  -- He did promise Joss to talk to Tyler so @show were is that talk? -- if seen the vid its awesome! thehiddenmemory has some great poi vids! (6)

yes i think so too. Like Grace would probably be relived and thankful that Harold is still alive and maybe they would even try again but eventually she would figure out that she cant trust him after lying to him for so long or sth like that and Harold would ofc realize that he is in love with someone else now. And then he finds out that John is still alive but stayed away cause he didnt want to get in the way of Harold/Grace. But then Harold comes back. And when they meet again John is like (7)

you came back for the machine? what about Grace. But Harold tells him he came back for John not the machine and then they kiss and have a happy live with Bear (sorry i got a little carried away here :D). -- Yeah Zoe is really hot and she needed more screen time! -- i hope you have a good day and i hope i havent messed up the numbers on the asks! :)

Hi ! I'm finally free from the resits, I hope you're doing okay with your thesis 💛

Sorry for replying late, there was the exam resits, and I read a bunch of fics, then I fell into pokémon and started bingewatching it. (Also I had a breakdown during therapy today so I'm gonna finish writing my answer to distract myself - it's been sitting in my drafts for so long rip)

Thank you !! It was a very personal thing, I'm really happy you liked it !! Your support and your comment made me thrive 💛💛

Tbh I was surprised to see it get kudos given that the only intended audience was my self projecting ass 🤣

So, my fav fics (my fav fic ever is in French, rip to y'all bc it's so good):

I am, I am, I am by RavenWhitecastle

Actually check the entire series this work belongs to: The Sinner and the Saint. I haven't finished it yet but I love it (I just skipped the explicit fics bc I don't like smut or sub!John)

Breaking All The Rules by talkingtothesky

Outsider Perspective by Neery

A Really Private Person by astolat

Hamartia (the hero's fatal flaw) by astolat

If Only for Tonight by spacemutineer

From Here, Where? by AKMars

Stroll by TheaNishimori

and the world was gone by lunarcorvid

a light that never goes out by vindicatedtruth

Limitations. by Michaelssw0rd

Reel you in and spit you out by Michaelssw0rd

All I Want For Christmas Is You by richmahogany

By What Power I Am Made Bold by brinnanza

Aftershocks by darringtons

At Certain Hours It All Breaks Down by nogoaway

construction of a kingdom by the_ragnarok

You Take Me Higher Than I've Gone by talkingtothesky

All Together Now by beadedslipper

I'll Let the Waters Still by brinnanza

Birthday Tradition by talkingtothesky

Things My Father Taught Me by KRyn

Truth is in the Eye of the Beholder by infiniteeight

Better Luck This Time by Lisztful

Motivations by JenNova

What's On the Table by cortue

In Another Life by Della19

I Thought We Already Were by talkingtothesky

Misunderstandings by thisstarvingartist

This is already fucking long omg so for the h/c: my bookmarks filtered with Rinch and h/c

Here's my playlist, it's mostly Rinch, but there are a few not Rinch vids, plus some scenes I like

This is long enough already, so it's time for a read more. Also, warning, we be talking about suicide

The portrayal of suicide is cringe most of the time anyway. If my suicidal ass can find a list of suicide methods and their lethality in 2 mins on Google you'd think writers who are supposed to do some research would be able to find them too but no they're like "ah yes slicing wrists" even though it's literally the shittiest method 🙄 (I just don't understand why slicing wrists seems to be such a popular method in the collective imagination ? It's weird.) At least in 13rw she took aspirin and cut herself vertically instead of horizontally but still, no hesitation wounds, and she dies even though she only got 4 wounds iirc ? I know more about jumping off bridges than slicing wrists, but it kinda sounds like bullshit to me. Also Netflix once suggested "beyond the reasons" to me, it's a sort of discussion with the cast and crew of 13rw and the only thing I remember is a moment of intellectual masturbation abt how they "opened a discussion abt suicide" 😬😬😬

They may have cut it out it's not impossible, idk I didn't hear about it, but it's not like I look for info about this dumpster fire lol. Maybe they faced backlash ? Wouldn't be surprised given how shit the show was. And yeah it has a hopeless vibe, I mean that's how it be when you're suicidal, but I didn't like it either.

You're sweet 💜💜 it's interesting that you find it respectable or admirable, I don't have an external point of view, so I'm just like 🤷 it is what it is. I understand where you're coming from though, I guess it's still quite a taboo subject, and suicidal people don't always feel comfortable talking about it, so me throwing around that I jumped off a bridge must be surprising. I'm detached enough from my suicide attempt that I'm able to talk about it without much of a problem, and I'm not really suicidal anymore.

Dumb bitches unite 👏👏👏 we be out there reading shit we shouldn't read

Yeah I think it's nice how the show didn't portray Shaw as a bad person for not having "normal feelings". Well, hope makes one live as we say in French (idk the English saying either lol) but don't hold much hope about me liking Root lmao

I used to ship careese bc they kissed in the crossing, but then I read some Rinch fics and I just ended up falling into it to the point where I stopped caring about careese. Now I think their relationship works better as a friendship.

Yeah all that change really puts me off... It just gives me "bad spin-off" vibes. Especially since there is less John :( and less Rinch :((((

Lmao yeah I just have a lot of feelings about early poi hgkfglrk. Also :/ I'm sad about the subway being less homey pls I just want happiness ?? I swear this show destroys my heart on top of owning my last braincell (brb changing my blog title to this lmao)

Mood I need all the John-centric eps, give me m o r e characterization and development and backstory and feelings hhhhhhh. I love him so much I just wanna spend more time with him. And that's what fics are for ! Yeah thehiddenmemory is so talented ! Astolat made some good ones too, on top of writing really good fics ! (Our fandom has been blessed with the presence of one of the ao3 founders hell yeah)

Also, remember how we talked abt the poi subreddit ? The other day I left a comment on there, wild I know. It wasn't a discussion about the last seasons though, I'm not crazy, it was about the impact poi had in our lives so I said it literally taught me English. Who knows maybe sometimes I'll comment again lol. I just don't wanna meet one of those people who prefer late poi over early poi.

Allow me to uuuuh write something based on what you said. Don't ask me how John survived with no major injuries, my man got that Thick Plot Armor alright. Hope you appreciate me getting carried away sjdkdksk it's kinda rushed and the first part isn't that good bc idk how to write Grace I'm just here for that sweet sweet Rinch stuff

Harold is eating breakfast with Grace in her kitchen – he can't think of her home as his home – when his phone vibrates. It's a text from the machine. It's a surprise, she barely contacted him since... He blocks the thoughts and the images coming to his mind. The machine sent him a picture. When he opens it, his heart misses a beat. Right here on his screen is a silhouette he thought he would never see again. His phone vibrates again. Another picture, this time it's unmistakably John, wearing his signature suit, Bear next to him. Transfixed, he stares at his phone until he feels Grace gently touching his arm. She goes straight to the point.

"Is it John ?" He looks up in confusion, but before he can say anything, she adds, "I hear you call him in your sleep every night."

"It's him, yes." He doesn't want to explain. He only wants to see John, to touch him, to tell him how much he loves him.

"You should go back to him. I like you, Harold. I am deeply relieved to see you alive. But I've been thinking, and... It's not working. This, us... You aren't really the man I fell in love with, the man I grieved... I can't trust you anymore." She doesn't say 'You lied to me' but Harold hears it all the same.

~

Harold sits on their bench. The machine indicated John often comes here. Soon enough, his arms are full of Bear, and John is standing in front of him.

"John. How are you ?" he asks when Bear finally calms down.

"Busy. And you ?"

Harold eyes him suspiciously – John once said he was busy when he was bleeding and way too close to death – but he seems to be well.

"I'm fine." He doesn't have time for awkward small talk." I thought you were dead. Why didn't you contact me ?"

"The machine told me you were with Grace. I thought you wanted to come back to your previous life. I didn't want to crash into it and ruin what you had."

Harold wants to be angry at him, but he understands. He did the same with Grace.

"You would never ruin anything. Besides, my relationship with Grace... didn't survive my lies. She's very dear to my heart, but she's a part of my previous life, as you said."

"So you came back for the machine, and the numbers, like the good old times ?"

Harold gets up from the bench.

"I came back for you. You are an important part of my life. The most important part."

John smiles, finally. He takes a step towards Harold, they're so close they could kiss. Harold reaches out, grips his shirt and slowly inches closer. He's still afraid of being rejected but John wraps his arm around him and kisses him. The kiss is over too soon. John's smile is even wider when they part.

"You're the most important part of my life too," he says before kissing Harold again. "You will stay ?"

"Always."

Damn I live for sappy Rinch stuff.

Bitches decided that Harold saying "always" is peak Rinch. It's me I'm bitches.

Also ofc I had to make a reference to number crunch, who do you think I am

Anyway. I hope you have a good day ! 💛

[rogue-barnes-16]

HEAL ME (part IX/X)

Summary: she was a nurse. He was a soldier. They fell in love at first sight. It was beautiful, true love. But something isn’t beautiful because it lasts.

Pairing: 40's!Bucky Barnes x nurse!Reader

Title: You'll never know

Genre: hypocritical fluff

Tags:

Heal me: @just-add-butter @mannls @bethanyzed @fandom-addict-aesthetics @kitttysblog @roxytheimmortal @futuremrspeterparkerholland @i-am-a-fandom-slut @mrsbarneswillseeyounow @chook007 @avengersassemblee @littlephoenix-fire @androgynouswolfcookiemug @babyplutoszx2 @calspalkira @unnecessarydelivery @-lilacnialler- @silver-winter-wolf

Permanent taglist: @notexactlythatgirl @thisismysecrethappyplace @sofreakinmanyfandoms @pizzarollpatrol @bubblycypress87 @almostmellowsalad @loislp @lovenaturefirst @dyanna-corona @2ptonpt @goodnightmode @disneyprincessbuffyannesummers @mannls @cutie1365 @catch22inareddress @mybooradley @sebastianisasnack @butifulsoul125 @unlikelygalaxygiver

Warnings: language, angst, death

A/N: if you got this far, you just know you're about to suffer. If it makes y'all feel better, I suffered writing it, too so yeah, we're even. Hope you "enjoy" it lol <3.

Heal me masterlist

Rogue-barnes-16 masterlist

STEVE'S P. O. V.

I sighed, arms crossed over my chest while my mind roamed the pros and cons of Bucky's request. "She's gonna get mad." I finally replied, lifting my eyes to look at my bestfriend. "She's gonna get really mad, Buck."

"C'mon Steve." he whined, taking a couple of steps in my direction. "I didn't ask for anything in all this time, now I need ya to do me this favor and you're gonna say no?"

I shook my head no. "that's the thing, pal, 's not a regular favor." I peaked at our sides and lowered my tone to speak again. "You're asking me to leave our nurse out of this mission."

"alright, Stevie. Tell me ya think she's needed in this mission." he retorted, slowly building up a point that I knew I wouldn't be able to take down. "Let's say someone gets hurt, what do we do? We take whoever it is all the way back to the cliff?" I averted my eyes, well aware that he was right. "It's a suicide mission, either we come back with Zola, or we don't come back. So please, leave her out of this one." I pursed my lips, still hesitant about taking that decision. "Steve, for fucks sake, I love her."

I took a moment before responding. "She's gonna hate me."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

READER'S P. O. V.

"what the hell was that?" I questioned, genuinely confused about Steve's decision to leave me out of this one mission, alleging zero reasons. "He can't fuckin' do that without Philips' permission."

"Ya heard him, ya ain't coming." Bucky stated putting on his blue coat without sparing me one single look. "ya ain't needed."

"what the hell is that supposed to mean?" my question held a warning tone, letting him know I didn't like one bit what he was saying.

"we don't need medical assistance in this one." he replied, a little quieter than his voice had been in the previous sentence.

"Suddenly y'all know when I'm needed?" I started to pace.

"Ya heard Steve, doll."

"Yah, and now he's gonna hear me." I made my way to Captain America's tent, but right before reaching it, Bucky’s hand was tugging my arm. "what the hell ya doin' now?"

He only let go when we were far enough from the camp for them to hear us. "It wasn't Steve's idea." he confessed. "I don't want you to come."

"You can't do that." I stated in a growl-like tone. "You can't leave me out of missions 'cause you're scared of losing me." I stepped closer to him, not breaking eye contact for a single second. "you think I ain't scared of losing ya?" I whispered with concern mixing with the anger in my voice. "you think I don't wanna pull your self-deprecating ass outta the battlefield and drag you back to Brooklyn?" he slightly tilted his head to the side, his slate blue eyes roaming all over my body, and getting lost here and there. "But I don't do it, 'cause I know I can't,' cause this doesn't work like that."

"what if you could?" his hushed tone made it seem as if he was about to confess a secret no one knew. "What if it worked like that?" I frowned, not really understanding what he wanted me to. "what if we come back home?"

"What- what d'ya mean?" I muttered, trying not to get any hopes beforehand.

His fingers intertwined with mines hesitantly, and, after licking his lips, a half smile that I had only see the night we met appeared in his gaze. "y'know what I mean." he closed the distance between us, his lips ghosting over mines. "I wanna take ya back to Brooklyn, to a house of ours."

"Bucky..." I could feel my legs shaking as swallowed, trying to calm down before attempting to form a proper sentence. "I... Steve-- what 'bout Steve?"

"That punk got this handled, and Carter got him handled. I've had enough of this bullshit," he murmured, pecking my lips in the most tender way. "I just wanna wake up every day in an actual bed with you besides me. I wan' a future with my best gal that doesn't include war and death."

His eyes, that had been casted down to our feet during his little speech, came back to mine, and to his dismay —and to my damn luck—, I saw the trick. "Ya gonn' ask me to stay out of this mission again, and then ya gonna promise me we'll leave when you come back, don't ya?"

"Doll..." he clenched his jaw, unable to deny that disappointing truth that had just ruined my brief hopes.

"ya think I'm a lil gal?" I inquired, pulling away from him. "you'll come back, and we won't leave, I'm not stupid James."

"Please trust me on this one." he pleaded, with pain in his voice, the same pain that was making my heart clench, the pain caused by the fact that what Bucky had just described was impossible. "Please Y/n... Why can't ya trust me?"

"Fuck 'cause it's been more than two years and you're still protecting Steve, not giving a fuck 'bout your life!" a tear was shed, but I was fast enough to wipe it away.

BUCKY'S P. O. V.

"we both know that when you come back, we're not leaving." she now refused to look at me in the eye, and, even if it hurt like hell, I knew why she wouldn't believe me.

But it was alright, she didn't have to believe me, I thought. "Ya don't take my word? Alright, you don't gotta, I'll prove it to ya." I informed her, trying my best to calm my nerves by gripping the ring in my pocket.

"Stark's already waiting for ya." she mumbled, hugging herself. "Ya better leave already."

I was going to leave, but a chill ran down my spine, and I stepped towards Y/n, taking advantage of her eyes fixed on the plane situated in our left to steal a kiss from her lips.

"I love you." I waited a few seconds for her to say it back, but she didn't. Instead, she kept her eyes shut while a couple of tears ran down her cheeks. "and I know you love me, you don't gotta say it." I said, more to myself that to her, cleaning her tears. "See ya later, doll."

I turned around and, after taking a couple of steps away, I heard a weak whisper, tamed by the anger and the pride. "Come back to me, Barnes."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

READER'S P. O. V.

I hugged myself, standing in the outside of the camp. Not even the way too large for my size coat that belonged to Dum Dum was enough to endure a few minutes in the coldness of that night in London.

I wouldn't have come outside if it wasn't because we had just received a weak, really brief transmission from Gabe, informing us that they succeeded.

That's all he said, that they succeeded. Or at least all he had time to say. That they succeeded.

A minute or so after I had started to freeze out, I saw Stark's small plane preparing to land. I ran towards them, partially because I was so eager to fix things with Bucky —to tell him that I trusted him and I loved him, to assured him I believed him—, partially because I needed the heat provided by a run, even if it was the tiniest.

Gabe and Morita climbed out of the vehicle first, escorting Zola with both of his guns pointed at him. "Take him to the camp, then go straight to the infirmary, will ya?" Morita nodded without looking at me, and Gabe sniffed quietly.

It was then that I hesitated before resuming my approach to the plane, because now it felt as if something wasn't right.

As if the mission had gone wrong.

Since they came back with Zola, that didn't seem possible, but I wasn't able to shake that feeling away.

I wasn't in a rush any longer, because suddenly it came to me that maybe something had gone wrong, that maybe someone wasn't in the plane.

Dum Dum and Montgomery were the next to leave the plane, helping Steve.

Steve who had gotten injured, that was it, nothing else. Then, why couldn't I shake that goddamn feeling off me?

I peaked at the inside of the plane to see only Jaques inside with his face buried in both his hands. He was crying too.

But there was no body.

"Where's Bucky?" I questioned, turning around to face Steve. I double checked him and noticed he didn't have any injuries. "Steve. Where's Bucky." no one answered. "Where the hell is James?!"

"we-" Dum Dum swallowed, holding back his tears. He was the only one who dared to look at my face. "he- he fell off... the train."

The world around me stopped and everything disappeared for a moment.

"what?" I barely heard my own voice.

"he was with Steve and I think a hole..." Gabe's words digged deep into me. I no longer could hear what he was telling me, because Bucky had been protecting Steve.

I didn't think much about it. I couldn't. The next thing I remember was my hand slapping Steve's face with such a force that it made him stumble.

"Are you fucking HAPPY?!" my feet led me to Steve once again, probably ready to hit him again, but I felt a tug on both my arms, holding me back. "HE WAS HERE 'CAUSE OF YOU! CAUSE IN TWO GODDAMN YEARS YOU COULDN'T SEE HE WAS HURTING!!"

"Y/n—"

"and now FUCK- he got killed protecting you' cause that's the only thing he was here for!" I tried to reach him again and I felt another tug. "YOU FUCKIN' DRAGGED HIM HERE! AND YOU DRAGGED ME TOO! AND NOW HE'S DEAD AND THE ONLY REASON I'M NOT 'S 'CAUSE OF HIM"

My voice cracked. Badly. My legs hit the ground. I felt two arms hugging me and I realized it was Jaques when some French words were whispered against my hair.

I came to my senses just to realize I was crying heavily. Steve was too. After a while I would realized how guilty he felt, how bad my words stung his golden heart, but truth needed to be said.

Right?

Maybe not, maybe I was being terribly unfair, but I felt as if I was dying, and my mind was too focused on the regret and the pain, to realize I had made a mistake.

[damienthepious]

... i bullied the lizzer on his Kiss Day..... i am terribly sorry D:

Serpent On A Bed Of Leaves

[ao3]

Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast

Relationship: Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla

Characters: Lord Arum, Sir Damien, Rilla, The Keep

Additional Tags: Second Citadel, Lizard Kissin’ Tuesday, Established Relationship, Nightmares, Blood, non-graphic injury, Hurt/Comfort, (tho... the one physically hurt... is the one comforting)

Summary: Arum has a nightmare. Somehow, waking from it proves to be even more distressing.

Notes: *shrugs loudly and pushes this fic out of my head and onto y'all instead* i don't even know. i'm sorry i keep bullying my baby lizzer. please enjoy regardless? Title from the song Wild Roses by Of Monsters and Men.

~

There is blood on Arum’s knives. Blood on his claws, too, hot and wet and dark, dripping between his fingers and down his wrists, sticky and slick and running in rivulets between his scales all the way down his arms to drip from his elbows.

The blood is not his own; he knows that without needing to think. He is whole. Unharmed. The blood belongs to-

He knows who the blood belongs to.

There is a pressure on his chest. Breathing feels sluggish and strange, as does any attempt to move.

He can taste blood between his teeth, too. Metallic and wrong. He should spit, or retch, but he doesn’t.

Arum does not want to look down. He knows. He knows, if he looks down. He knows what he will see. Knows deep in his bones the terrible thing he has done, knows and does not want to see-

He does not want to look. His head angles down, as if his eyes are magnetized, as if gravity is weighing on the tip of his snout and pushing it inevitably towards the ground. He does not want to look, but his eyes fall regardless.

Their eyes look somewhere past him, glassy and dull. Their chests remain obstinately still. He cannot hear their hearts. And the blood- enough blood to pool around his feet, so much, too much, the smell like a butchery in high summer and the matching red-black on his arms is going tacky and stiff and he wants to run or howl or fight but his legs are stiff and immobile, his fingers will not release the knives in his hands.

He killed them.

(-hunting Damien through the night, through vines and branches, stalking and taunting and then dropping, knives drawn-)

He killed them.

(-snarls and she recoils, gasping, panting, wide-eyed and blind in the dark, and with teeth bared he laughs darkly at her fear-)

Arum killed them, tore them apart with claws and knives and teeth, because he is a monster, and this is what monsters do to humans, even when those humans love him. Even when he loves them in return. It is not enough, it was never going to be enough-

Arum’s love was never going to be enough to protect them.

Hands on his shoulder. On his face.

He snarls, whirling, bloody claws raised in defense now, in anguish and fury, and he realizes halfway through the motion that he is-

He is waking up, and he recognizes too late where he is and he can’t stop his momentum. His claws connect, scraping two fresh red lines across Damien’s palm, and the sight of his blood hits Arum like ice.

He can’t breathe at all, for a moment, and Damien makes a small surprised noise as he cups his hand against his chest, his eyes wide as they rise to meet Arum’s own.

“I-” Arum’s voice is too rough, more snarl than word, and he needs to try a second time. “I- h-honeysuckle-”

Damien’s brow furrows in confusion as he squeezes his palm in his other hand, and Amaryllis is rolling over, waking more slowly, and Arum remembers the cold blankness of their eyes in his dream, and with the scent of fresh blood on the air Arum feels dizzy, feels like there is a hand squeezing his windpipe completely closed, and as Amaryllis blinks and mutters confusion, Arum scrambles backwards out of the bed entirely, and bolts from the room.

Damien calls after him. That makes him feel even more sick.

The Keep gives him half a greeting before it notices his distress, and when he gives a choked off request the Keep opens a door to a dark, quiet room among its roots, somewhere he can hide in close, cool darkness, where he can plunge his hand into one of the underground streams the Keep feeds from, where he can wash the blood from his claws and shake, and shake, and shake.

The Keep grows him a patch of large pale leaves of something like lamb’s ear, but Arum can’t stand them, can’t stand the softness, and he crouches in the corner instead. By the stream, where he can wash his hands again. No redness remains, but the memory- he washes his claws again, again, just to be sure, watching the water pass by, clear and somehow unmarred by his touch.

A portal opens at his back, and the humans step out.

A snarl rumbles up in Arum’s throat because how dare the Keep bring them here- but that isn’t fair, is it? He’s told it to honor Damien and Amaryllis’ requests, and if they are here now, they must have asked. They must have wanted to be brought to where Arum hid.

He’s surprised, mostly, that they would bother to come bid him farewell before they leave him. That’s what they must be here for, he thinks dizzily. Damien must want last words. It’s always about words, with him.

Arum stuffs down the revulsion he feels with himself, stuffs down his guilt, and stands, though his shoulders are hunched and he cannot stop his tail from lashing anxiously behind him. They deserve to rebuke him when he isn’t cowering in some hole like the miserable creature he is, they deserve for him to look them in the eye when they tell him-

Damien’s injury is already bandaged. The new white stripe around his hand looks unspeakably clean down here, among roots and dirt and mud. His expression, though, isn’t what Arum expects. Neither of them are. Amaryllis looks concerned, tired, wary, but not furious as he expected, and Damien does not look disgusted or betrayed or filled with that cool fury Arum saw in him beneath the Terminus. He looks worried, looks- scared, perhaps.

And why wouldn’t he be? Arum thinks, his throat going tight and unbreathable again. He is with a monster, a monster who he knows now will hurt him. Fear is a rather natural response to danger, and you have proven yourself dangerous to them.

Arum steps back, slowly, until his back hits a dirt wall and there is no further room to put between himself and the humans, and he waits. He does not trust himself to speak first.

There is a long, unwieldy sort of pause, and then Damien’s scared expression cracks open and he speaks.

“Are you alright?”

Arum blinks, clenches his jaw together, narrows his eyes in confusion.

“Arum.” Damien’s body sways towards him, but he doesn’t take a step. He raises his hands between them, reaching, like he’s trying to coax a skittish horse. “Please, are you alright? My lily, you’re frightening me-”

“Am-” Arum’s voice rattles almost too much to be understood, his distress too wild to coalesce to reason. “Am I alright? Ho- Sir Damien, I- why- what could that possibly matter?”

“Wh- what does that matter?” Damien looks astonished. “Of course it matters, love, you were caught in the throes of some terrible dream and then when you awoke-”

“When I awoke I tore your hand open,” Arum says roughly. “I hurt you and I- whatever state I am in is of no concern whatsoever.”

“Of course it is,” Damien says, brow furrowing.

“He doesn’t look hurt,” Amaryllis chimes from behind Damien, her hand gentle at his elbow.

“Of course I’m n- how would I even have-? And- and it doesn’t matter regardless, because-”

“Because you cut Damien by accident and now you think you deserve some hurt of your own?” Amaryllis snorts a laugh. “C’mon, Arum, I understand that you feel bad about this but of course Damien and I are worried about you. We love you.”

Like a blow to the gut. “I hurt him,” Arum whispers. “I could have hurt him much more direly. Could have hurt either of you.”

“Arum, you’re so afraid of hurting us that you look like you’re trying to join the local root structure to avoid it,” Amaryllis says wryly, crossing her arms over her chest. “I love you. I’m not afraid of you. I stopped being afraid of you the first hour I knew you.”

Another time, Arum would probably scowl about that. Right now, he’s too focused on his breathing, focused on digging his claws safely in the dirt behind him to have room to feel insulted.

“You won’t hurt us,” Damien says. “It was an accident. I shouldn’t have tried to wake you like that, I-” he laughs - laughs - and gives an embarrassed sort of smile. “I forgot about your claws, somehow. I was too worried about pulling you from whatever dream was distressing you so, and I forgot to mind your sharper edges.”

Arum winces, feeling as if all of his edges are too sharp, in fact. “No excuse for harming you, Sir Damien. You have every right to- to leave, and-”

“Leave? Whoever said a word about leaving?”

Arum pauses, then chokes out, “I hurt you. I clawed you open, Sir Damien, you have every right- every right to remove yourself from a monster who would harm you.”

“A monster who would…” Damien’s voice goes warbling and high, and then he laughs again in a confused, slightly breathless way. “Oh, love, you would never hurt me on purpose. Never. You are always so terribly careful with us-”

“And yet,” Arum snarls, “here we are, and regardless of intent I have injured you, and- and I could have done much worse if I had struck somewhere other than your hand. I could have sliced your wrist, I could have slit your throat, I could have-”

“Arum, you didn’t.” Damien takes a half-step towards him and Arum tenses.

“I’m getting the feeling that this is about more than just Damien’s hand,” Amaryllis says. “Seriously, that was barely a scratch. Something else is going on.”

Arum’s eyes flick away, look anywhere else in the room besides at the herbalist.

Damien steps closer, though, and Arum can’t help the way he flinches. “D-don’t, Sir Damien. I- just leave and-”

“I am not going to leave you,” Damien says, quiet and firm, and Arum feels a strange mingled swelling of relief and disbelief as the knight steps slowly closer. “Please, Arum. This is hardly the worst of trials we have endured. A sleepless night, the mildest of injury, a bit of worry… darling, we have endured worse by far.”

“S-stop,” Arum says, shaking his head and digging his claws more firmly into the roots behind him, burying them in gnarled wood. “I don’t- I don’t want to-”

Damien pauses, only a foot or so away now. “You won’t hurt me,” he says, voice so soft that it might as well be spiderweb. He takes the last step forward, and Arum stiffens with his back to the wall, clenches his teeth together and closes his eyes, and then he feels Damien’s familiar hands cup his face, his thumbs stroking Arum’s cheeks with unwavering gentleness, and Arum’s breath hitches, a helpless noise escaping him before he can stop it. “You won’t hurt me,” Damien says again, even softer. “Oh, my precious lily, I know you would never.”

“Sir Damien-”

“I’m not angry,” Damien says. “I’m not frightened. I love you, and I’m not going anywhere.” He leans up, Arum can feel him shift even with his eyes still closed, and he brushes his lips over Arum’s mouth, just gentle.

“Damien-”

“You need not stop yourself from calling me honeysuckle, my lily,” Damien says, and Arum blinks his eyes back open with an embarrassed wince, only to find Damien looking up at him with soft, indulgent, adoring eyes. “You know I love to hear such sweetness from you.”

“I- I-” Arum crumples, tucking his face into the crook of Damien’s neck, wrapping his arms around him while still keeping his claws carefully, carefully away. “I am s-so sorry, honeysuckle, I cannot begin to say-”

“It was an accident,” Damien says again. “It wasn’t anyone’s fault. And the best physician in the land has declared the injury inconsequential, and I can assure you I trust her judgment implicitly.”

Arum chokes a laugh, clinging stiffly to the poet. “Still. Still. You should be safe with me, and yet-”

“We are,” Amaryllis says, coming closer. “Never safer. Just like you’re safe with us. We protect each other and take care of each other, Arum.” She steps behind Damien, and she places her hand over Arum’s, warm and gentle. “Which is why you should tell us what else is wrong, because we’ve known you long enough to know that panicking like that really isn’t like you.”

“I… I know,” Arum says, and Damien’s fingers are sketching soothing circles and patterns down the scales of his back. “I know. I- I was- I was- hurting you, honeysuckle, it- it terrified me.”

“An accident, Arum,” Rilla says softly. “I mean, with my habit of waking up elbows swinging, I’m way more guilty of inflicting nighttime injury than either of you-”

“I dreamed I killed you,” Arum rasps, only barely keeping himself from pulling away from Damien as the horror rushes back through him. “Killed you both. Dreamed you dead, dead by my hand, and then woke to live it in faded echo and I-”

“Oh Arum,” Damien breathes, squeezing him tighter in his arms. “I’m so sorry, love. Is this- is that a nightmare you have often?”

“N… no,” Arum sighs. “Dreams are a rare occurrence altogether for me, and nightmares are rarer still.”

“That’s quite a relief,” Damien says with a smile, leaning back so he can catch Arum’s eye, so he can cup his face in his hands again. “It is a cruelty to be tormented by your own mind, and I cannot stand the thought of you suffering so, my lily. You would never hurt us. Clearly so, as the very idea caused you to flee from us rather than leave us in what you perceived as danger. Your sleeping mind presented you with something it knew you feared, which is all the more proof that you want us to be safe, want us hale and whole.”

Damien leans up, kisses him again, and Arum sighs in soft delight, and then Damien’s hands and Amaryllis’s hands are both easing him away from the wall, pressing him snugly between their small, warm bodies.

“Honestly, Arum, thinking we’d just leave-”

Arum growls, nuzzling his snout into Amaryllis’ ear. “Wasn’t thinking clearly, obviously. Should have kept in mind your ridiculous stubbornness.”

“We love you, dear lily,” Damien trills, and Arum’s swallows against the way that makes his heart leap. “It is not stubbornness. It is devotion, and our devotion shall not wane with a mishap so easily mended as this.”

Arum shudders out another sigh. “It still- concerns me,” he admits. “I could still hurt either of you. And- and every moment you are with me is a danger, as well. Another way that my presence in your lives could put you to harm. Aligning yourself with a monster, if anyone were to discover-”

“We all knew the risks when we decided to try this,” Amaryllis says evenly, “and you’re in just as much danger on your side if anything got out. But being together is worth a little risk, Arum.” She smiles, and then she taps the tip of his nose to make him wrinkle his snout. “Being with you is worth a lot. Isn’t it?”

Arum’s breath escapes him in a rush, and he stares down at his two radiant humans, at Amaryllis’ sly, comforting smirk, at Damien’s shy and hopeful smile, and his body thrums with a love so sharp it feels like it could kill him. He clutches them tighter, and his voice goes rough and rattling when he answers, “Worth anything. How- how dear you are to me… the privilege of loving you is worth anything in the world.”

And Arum will do his best to deserve that privilege. Because they are worth anything, worth care and caution, worth protecting. Arum may still be scared- scared of hurting them, scared of being responsible for their harm, but Arum also knows how to turn his claws towards protection, knows how to transmute his fears into defenses. Arum is dangerous; this is true, but he will use his sharpness to keep them safe.

He loves them too much to do anything else.

[millennial-star-gazer]

Grey Days( reuploadfrom dragon-shield-maiden account)

Grey Days

Vera's May Prompt Challenge 2018 Prompt(s)9when on dragon-shieldmaiden): "Don't leave me! (Sort of implied in an angsty sense of the word) Genres: Romance, Fantasy, Friendship/Family, Angst/Drama Hurt/Comfort, Tragedy(due to this being from Natsu's/E.N.D's Perspective), Gothic fiction, and Poetry

Characters: Natsu/E.N.D, Lucy , Gray, Diamara, Igneel and Zeref Pairing: Nalu/Endlu (Natsu x Lucy/ E.n.d Natsu x Lucy)

Rating: K+-T for some violence, references to death, mature and dark themes. Reader Discretion is advised for those younger than 12 or 13 years and/or anyone who may not at the level of development (maturity) to handle such heavy subject matter . Side note: Please use your own judgement and proceed with caution before deciding to read If uncertain as to whether you're comfortable with such themes.

Summary: Without his most precious star and father's light, the demon of hellfire is lost—all days perpetually gray. For the loss of his beloved really does drive the heart mad. A retelling of the events surrounding Natsu's/E.n.d's transformation (chapters 503-505) from his perspective in poem form. Title taken from the song of the same name by Chelsea Wolfe. Originally  For Vera's May Prompt Challenge and  Nalu angst week 2018 on previous accounts . Nalu/Endlu

A/N: Hey guys, it's your girl Millennial Stargazer (formerly known as twishadowhunter/ comsicdragonqizard/dragon-shield-maiden/star-crossed-dragon! I'm finally back under a new name (on fanfiction and tumblr as millennial-star-gazer) after months of forced hiatus due to personal extenuating circumstances (which can be explained via private message for those who already don't know why) This time it's an reupload of an installment in the wonderful universe of Fairytail—an angsty gothic little ditty retelling the events of chapters 503-505 and other related chapters mostly from Natsu/E.n.d's perspective which was originally as an entry for Vera's May Prompt Challenge and for Nalu angst week 2018 on my previous dragon-shield-maiden account (tumblr). As you may know, the title is taken from the evocative song of the same name by the lovely Chelsea Wolfe which has heavily inspired the poem.

Yes, I know there's been a lot of poems on my profiles, though I do also write other kinds of non-poetry works if my ongoing fics Tantric Flames and the Draconic Demon -soon to be reuploaded by the way- among others are anything to go by). Also partially by Within Temptation's The Heart of Everything plus the musical body of works from Peter Grundy (Bury My Heart) Brunuhville (River of Tears), Nights Amore (This Dreadful Emptiness , That Which is Called Void, Twisted Goa: Lone Deranger , and A Billion Stars Will Die Today) and Adrian Von Ziegler (Ashes, Twisted, Heaven's Touch, One, My Everything, Ethello-iel and Even in Death) who are all incredibly talented composers in their own right that you should check out! (The songs can be found by by clicking on the song titles or via google. Also see below for "Grey Days" if on Tumblr)

Anyway, I don't think y'all need me warning you that spoilers are present when it's already pretty apparent. Without further ado, here's the poem. Don't forget to let me know what you think by leaving a leaving comment/review. (Links to everything below, sidebar and bio if on tumblr plus Fanfiction profile). Enjoy!

Disclaimer: As you all know by now Fairytail does not belong to me, but the most honourable Hiro-sensei instead, for whom without this labour of love wouldn't be possible.

Read More Here:

1. Grey Days

A. Tumblr Version

B. Fanfiction (Click Here:) (or here:https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13112482/1/Grey-Days-Reupload-from-dragon-shield-maiden)

2.  The Rest  Of My Writing 

A.  Master Fic Rec Post(Click Here:) (or herehttps://millennial-star-gazer.tumblr.com/post/179665258923/master-fic-rec-post:) 

B.  Fanfiction  Profile (Click Here): (or here: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/11384058/)

More to follow.  Links can also be found in bio and  top blog parts (if on desktop)

"Grey and holy You said it was the first time Like the morphine You take it all away Pretend it's okay The grey days" (Chelsea Wolfe: Grey Days)

“A lifeless lover was the high mountains” Where we tried to reach the stars The moon, the ways beyond It was the purest love of all”

(Draconian: Pale Tortured Blue)

“If all else perished, 

and he remained, 

I should still continue to be;

 and if all else remained, 

and he were annihilated,

 the universe would turn to a mighty stranger

(Heathcliff: Wuthering Heights)

"Natsu!" The screams of his celestial maiden Oh how, they call to the dragon of fire through the darkness piercing the shadows of his subconscious Severing the ties that bind

His eyes open The Gods of Time themselves defied Damaria decimated in the blast Scorch and crimson stains through tattered remnants of fabric on skin All within the blink of an eye

Natsu's attempts to rouse the motionless angel in his arms fail when she does not stir Scarlet tears a ghastly sight No single heartbeat , nor breath of life he can hear Vital signs so pined for falls on deaf ears The perceived second loss of the brilliant star in his universe drives him over the edge enough to fully awaken the infernal power within

Flashes of the two's life together before the demon's very eyes River of tears flowing like cascading rain A grief-stricken kiss of on the zodiac wielder's forehead of farewell A piece of his soul here now dying right along with her Oh how the agony of her absence cuts right down to to the bone Soulmates , would-be lovers torn asunder The great divide all together just too much for the demon of black flames’ unholy, forlorn, heart to bear How could it not be when the iridescent light of a billion stars was blotted out from the midnight sky? Never to shine again

Oh, how the cursed fates are cruel

"Zeref, where is Zeref?" The name of the fire demon's accursed brother spilling from his lips over and like a non-nonsensical mantra as if he's a deranged mad man Onward the song of Igneel trudges Any with prying eyes from afar

may just see infernal darkness incarnate annihilate all

those who block his path fall at his feet in firey wake Driven by bloodthirsty instinct to obliterate the creator

Forward E.N.D marches on the hunt in search of his so-called dear brother Eye for an eye Tooth for tooth Raging thirst for the other's blood All in all vengeance apparent

The thought of meeting his inevitable demise just barely crosses the prince of hell's mind yet he cares not For without his the light of his father and  most dear  com he is lost, all days perpetually gray No tomorrow in sight Totality of his desolate existence an infinite void Devoid of meaning just the same

Reunited they all will at least be in the the golden fields of Avalon after his spirit departs

Just Lucy wait, Natsu tells himself in his arms she soon will be on the other side when he crosses the threshold Watching over those so precious together Instead of her buried along with his heart six feet underground Side by side at last Apart nevermore

A figure, there standing in the distance the son of Igneel finally catches a glimpse Is it the one he's been searching for? No, just the ice devil slayer himself Former brothers in arms , comrades in life Mortal foes now, team mates no longer Infernal hellfire and ice will clash A rift far too vast to mend Shattered remnants of a fraternal bond beyond repair All for naught Natsu's goal of sanguinary retribution clear Purging the world of the one who started it all Even it means cutting down almost any who stand in his way The loss of etherious's beloved really does drive the heart mad Delerium not overcome

Oh, but little does the demon know that his most

precious star lives

If only he could see how she still breathes Alive and well

Alas he does not

All is not lost

In the end, who alone will stop the volatile discord? Who alone will be brave enough to be up to the task? Oh, who alone will stop the clash?

Fic tag squad: @writer-appreciation  @nunnatheinsanegerbil @mautrino @rougescribe @goddesofimortality  @phoenix-before-the-flame  @nalufever  @petri808 @thecelestialchick  @nalu-natic

A/N: Hope you all enjoyed! Just a few housekeeping notes in terms of clarification and reminders.

1. "Scarlet Tears" is one of the literary metaphors used in poem alluding to the blood stains under Lucy's eyes after Diarma attempted to scratch them out-unsuccessfully I might add (Thank God lol). The whole bit about regarding the stars being blotted out overall symbolizes Natsu's/E.N'D grief who feels that the world—or his world at least— has become that much less brighter without one of his best friend's light. Not to mention his existence ceasing to have meaning in the wake of so much loss—especially just one year after Igneel's death. Yes, he loves and cares for his other friends a great deal—especially Happy-, but losing them (with a few exceptions like said cat ) isn't quite the same as losing Lucy to death— at least not to the point as being as soulcrushing. I am by no means trying to downplay how much he values others in life—just offering my take since naturally the loss of someone is only futher magnified based on the nature of the relationship and how close you were which is no different for our favourite dragonslayer. In the end, Natsu/e.n.d ultimately would much rather be with Lucy and Igneel in the afterlife watching over their other friends in the afterlife than be without the former in the realm of the living—once he's had a chance to destroy Zeref with his bare hands (most likely using fire and whatever else he has at his disposal—Natsu I mean.) Just so you know ?.

2. To anyone who were following my other works on previous accounts , The Draconic Demon Within is a semi-au Nalu/Endlu fic in which it follows the original timeline of events from the manga and anime up until chapter 478 or so where Natsu saves Lucy from certain death by intercepting Jacob's attack just in the nick of time. After his brutal defeat is where the plot of TDDW deviates. In this fic, the original Team Natsu(Natsu, Lucy, Happy) soon gets word that the Tartaros has remerged with resurrected members and forged an alliance with the Alvarez empire they've (save a few such as Brandish)— all while overthrowing Zeref in the process now that they've gained total independence.

Natsu and Lucy are then lured to Tartaro's new base of operations (in part because said dragonslayer wasn't about to let his girl go barging in alone what with her being one of the people he's most protective of for obvious reasons and all) where they subsequently learn from Tempester that his (Natsu's) life is no longer tied to his brothers —which comes as a shock to you know who that it was mind you—; all this before an incantation is recited from a particular tome to fully awaken the demonic aspect of Natsu's identity from within now that the seal is broken. Pretty sure you guys know the rest for which the rest of the plot unfold as more chapters are posted. Just thought you guys should know in case anyone had any questions about the original timeline of the Fairytail series fits in with TDDW. I'll be sure to post this within the bottom A/N notes in the one chapters in the process of revison of said fic. Side note: I hope to start reposting while also uploading new chapters for both this fic, Tantric Flames and others in the works ASAP.

All right y'all, that's it for now. Be sure to let me you know what you think by leaving a review/comment and don't forget to give the rest of my writing a read once posted/. (Corresponding links above in this post, in sidebar and bio if on tumblr. Also on my Fanfiction profile)! Many thanks once again to all who've been supporting me thus far (including my friends/mutuals, followers and readers)! Until next time—take care!

[jbuffyangel]

Weekly Rundown 10/21/18-10/26/18

Time to rundown what I’m watching, loving, hating and everything in between! Spoilers ahead! Full episode reviews and reactions are linked in the titles.

Daredevil Season 3

Just so y’all know - most nuns do not wear their habits in public anymore. It’s been that way since Vatican II, but TV refuses to catch up.

The action is amaaaaazing again. I love how Matt actually gets tired when he’s fighting.

I don’t want Matt to put that ugly Daredevil suit on again he looks ridiculous. Keep the black mask and call it a day.

I want Foggy to propose very badly. I need a Foggy wedding in Season 4.

Is there any particular reason why Karen didn’t haul ass to Frank’s Punisher lair when her life was in danger and Matty Mcbrown eyes was off Daredeviling an existential crisis? That’s where I’d go.

Matt refusing to ask the other Defenders help because “it’s not their fight” is the stupidest reason ever.

Arrow (“The Longbow Hunters”)

It is a bit creepy when Stan says, “I bet a guy like that would do anything to keep his family safe.” Maybe Stan is a nuthouse, but leave me to my dream for now.

Is it me or did Yorke look older than 40? 1978????

Deputy Director Bell is evil. Calling it now.

The Longbow Hunters don’t actually use bows. This is a twist I did not see coming.

Bl*ck S*ren can’t lawyer worth a damn, but she can wear a suit.

“Stay behind me.” That was oddly hot Rene. I’m wildly uncomfortable that I find you attractive right now, but it is what it is.

Rene: Been back in town a week and you’re already sneaking out of A.R.G.U.S. behind Papa Dig’s back? I’m so proud.

Felicity: Thanks man.

This whole exchange was delightful and not remotely derogatory like “Blondie.” THY NAME IS CHARACTER GROWTH.

“Grab your balls Curtis, we’re going in.” If the Rene character only exists to say this one line of dialogue then it was worth it.

Why didn’t BS and Dinah go after the Longbow Hunter? What is up with allowing all these criminals to run away at a moderately brisk pace and our people acting like they can’t catch them? They are called legs! Move your ass!  

BITCH YOU BETTER NOT STEP ON THAT PHOTO!!!!!!!

Legends of Tomorrow  (“The Virgin Gary”)

Legends Season 4 premiere is fantastic and full of all the hi-jinks I’ve missed over hiatus.

“Speaking of the same old crap isn’t that what he did last year?”Legends gets points for acknowledging that Wally gets the storyline shaft a lot.

When you are officially a hero the time bureau gives you a medal, but I was more excited about the balloons.

It would be super weird if the Legends spent more than a day in 2018.

Remember when Oliver asked Sara to move in with him and she went running screaming in the other direction? It all worked out because Sara knew he was really in love with Felicity. I’m just saying she’s come a looooong way.

I want to be clear about one thing and it’s not up for debate. Ready? The best thing about Legends is Mick. It’s always Mick. That is all.

OMG NATE’S FATHER IS BIFF FROM BACK TO THE FUTURE?????!!!!!!!! THIS IS SPECTACULAR CASTING!!!

Manifest “Connecting Flights”

It was nice to fill in the back story of the characters left behind after the plane went missing, however the show is starting to lose my attention. I need more movement on these character relationships. Manifest is hitting a lot of the same notes week after week.

This Is Us (“Toby”)

Randall is going ahead with the city council job? Are they independently wealthy Does no one have to work?

Baby Toby is the cutest.

Holy crap is this how in vitro really works? It’s so friggin expensive and no guarantees. Wow, my sympathies to all those who have gone through this excruciating process.

Randall unbuttoning his shirt is all the reason I need to vote for him. Done deal. 

Toby used his wonderful sense of humor to cheer up his depressed Mom. Ugh my heart.

But for real though sometimes you need just “one damn day.” #MomLife

Three hours to get ready Kate? Just as an FYI - that’s all over when you have a baby. You’ll be lucky to get a shower.

Miguel carried a piano up stairs to cheer Rebecca up. That’s love.

“There’s so much of her in you it scares me.” THAT IS NOT SOMETHING YOU SAY TO YOUR CHILD ASSHOLE.

A+ on the prom dresses. Absolutely what I wore in high school. We were fashionista slaves in the late nineties.

Kate’s impression of Adele is dead on.

Miguel tries so hard. He’s just trying to keep his promise to Jack.

Rebecca is such an amazing mom. Kate doesn’t give her nearly enough credit.

KATE IS PREGNANT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The Rookie (Pilot” and “Crash Course”)

I really loved The Rookie. I typically don’t hate procedurals, but this one has surprised me thus far. It’s fast paced, so it held my attention more. I hope it stays that way. 

I love how it is the rookies versus the training officers. It fills my Rookie Blue void.

I am not invested in any ships yet. I am not buying the romance between Nolan and Lucy so far. I actually think Lucy has more chemistry with Bradford and Nolan with the Captain.

A Million Little Things (“Friday Night Dinner” and “The Game of Your Life”)

I want to love this show, but they are making it next to impossible. I hate cheating storylines in any show. It’s one of the main reasons I quit watching Shonda Rhimes’ shows because she is unable to write one without including adultery. Arrow’s original love story revolved around cheating and was an absolute mess. It feels like a lazy way to inject drama. This cheating storyline between Eddie and Delilah is making two characters who are otherwise very likable extremely unlikable. 

Instead of jettisoning this plot into the atmosphere where it belongs and never speaking of it again, A Million Little Things is double down on it.  Delilah is pregnant! Oh wonderful, now we get to play “Who’s the Daddy?” for several weeks.

Apparently, the writers come from The Fl*sh school of writing. Characters can only be mad at other characters for one episode. All the friends found out about Eddie and Delilah’s affair and the very next week they are sitting down to pizza. It’s at Delilah’s house and Eddie’s wife Katherine comes too because FRIENDS. No. Just no.

Instead of being angry at Eddie and Delilah, the friends make excuses for them. Regina’s conversation with Delilah turned into a huge “I didn’t see your pain” apology, which is flat out ridiculous. What Delilah did was so off the charts wrong there is no excuse for it. If you are in pain see a therapist. It’s not an excuse to cheat on your husband. Also, Regina you are not to blame for Delilah lying to everyone for over two years. 

Gary, who has been the angriest, decides he’s being too hard on Eddie (ya know by actually holding him accountable for his actions) and lets Eddie move in with him after his wife finally kicked him out. Are you freaking kidding me with this? I was already mildly irked at Gary for giving Delilah a free pass, but I understood his reasoning because her husband just jumped off a building. She has been punished quite a lot. But Eddie? I think we could muster a couple episodes of anger towards Eddie.

The writers attempted drum up sympathy for Delilah by shining a little light on her seemingly perfect marriage with Jon. It’s not really perfect, but what marriage is? Jon was short with Delilah during a family dinner. He took a phone call from work and snapped, “Everything I do is for this family.” What a bastard. Of course, that is reason enough for Delilah to jump into bed with Eddie, her husband’s best friend. GIVE. ME. A. FRIGGIN. BREAK. If my husband slept with someone else every time I was cranky with him, he’d have a harem.

So, on top of being suicide apologists, the writers are adding cheating apologists. There is no reason to cheat. It’s just mean. Nobody has put a gun to your head. If you want out of your marriage you march to an attorney’s office and file for divorce. Not sure if you want a divorce? Then go to counseling. But cheating, under any circumstances, is wrong. It’s cruel and selfish. It’s trying to have your cake and eat it too. A Million Little Things trying to excuse away Eddie and Delilah’s heinous behavior is almost as bad as the cheating itself. Trying to make suicide and cheating okay with excuses is dangerous behavior. I AM NOT A FAN.

Stray Thought - on what planet is a school program presented in the middle of the freaking day? What kind of ridiculous school do Eddie and Katherine send their son to?

Blindspot (“The Quantico Affair”) 

Zapata has a very interesting running stride. Sorry I was in cross country. That stuff interests me

Roman saying "He knows. This is it. Kill him" underscores the dramatic tension.

I’m gonna need someone on Team Blindspot to pick up on Remi's side eye. Y'all are FBI agents for goodness sake.

I don't actually know what Patterson's name is, but I feel confident it is not Lisa.

I think Martin Gero saw me write "Where is Patterson's storyline?" in my last review. I could have opted for patience, but complaining loudly via written word felt like a better plan. 

Hey watch the condemnation Remi aka Jane aka double secret agent who told so many lies I can't keep it straight anymore.

OMG Rich not explaining how the tattoo was solved is the best thing ever. PLEASE DO THIS EVERY WEEK

I wanna talk about the Book of Secrets mostly because Rich calls it the Book of Secrets.

Hahaha. Her one night stand showed up at work. This is how Meredith and McDreamy began. I highly recommend elevator scenes too.

One night stand boy is Weitz's nephew. IT. JUST. GOT. BETTER

Sure Madeline come on in and check out our super secret tattoo murder board.

"Thundercats ho!" OMG was that an ad lib?

Totally ship Patterson and this dude. I should probably learn his name.

Somebody tell Rich about the one night stand. Pleeeeeeeease.

I'm not calling him Lincoln. He shall be known as "Slab of Man-Ham" forevermore.

Patterson and Rich are the perfect work wife/husband team. Remember Rich is the work wife

How does Weitz maintain employment? This may be the greatest of all Blindspot's mysteries.

Of course "Jane" and Weller are on the train Weitz. IT'S THEIR JOB. Seriously someone get this dude a DVD of #Blindspot S1-S3

Patterson girl, Jane is never that cranky with you when she's diffusing bombs. SOMEBODY NOTICE PERSONALITY CHANGES PLEASE!!!

"You're new here." ALL KNEEL TO PATTERSON.

[rollinsbabe]

Car Naps and Feelings (Seth Rollins) - the reader rides along to the next location for the next WWE RAW show with Finn Balor, Sami Zayn, and Seth Rollins. Things get a little cozy and personal in the car with the reader and Seth, causing some feelings to get exposed. fluff

another seth rollins story for y’all as requested! this is primarily just fluff, with little bits of sexual tension here and there. enjoy

WARNING: language

******

I just had one of the most grueling matches of my career so far and was looking forward to the 5 hour drive to our next RAW location. I was thrilled to be able to relax and joke around with my friends, but if we’re being completely honest, I was most looking forward to sleeping in the car. 

I gathered my bags and set out on a search for my driving buddies: Finn and Sami. It took me a while, but eventually I heard the cackling laugh that could belong to none other than my little ginger Canadian. I rounded the set of equipment trunks and saw the two losers leaning against the wall, near the exit door. When they saw me, they both raised their hands and called my name. 

“So y'all can talk to me when I get here but you can’t answer my calls?” I crossed my arms and scolded them jokingly. 

Finn pulled out his phone and saw the “3 missed calls” notification. He shrugged his shoulders and glanced up at me sheepishly. “Sorry about that.”

I rolled my eyes and wheeled my gear towards the door. “Well, all is forgiven. Let’s just get in that car and get going.“ 

Sami grabbed my upper arm, stopping me. I furrowed my eyebrows in question. “What? Why aren’t we leaving right now?" 

Sami looked at me guiltily and mumbled, "Someone else is coming too." 

I wasn’t sure I heard him correctly, so I turned to Finn and said, "Huh?”

“Well you see, the thing is,” he began, “Cesaro rides with Sheamus most of the time nowadays so Seth has been hung out to dry a bit and since me and Sami are both really good friends with him, we offered for him to come with us." 

Both Sami and Finn looked at me pointedly, trying to gauge my reaction. 

Honestly, I knew Seth and had worked with him before, both in NXT and here on RAW, but I didn’t have much of a personal relationship with him. I’ve never been one to turn away new friends, so I didn’t really care. It was sharing the backseat that I most annoyed about. 

"Well pretty boy better hurry it up if he’s trying to catch a ride with us. I’m hungry and tired and he’s wearing my patience. Him and his slow moving ass,” I said. 

Sami’s cheeks turned red and he looked as though he was holding in a laugh. I turned my attention to Finn and he looked the same. I felt a hand on my shoulder and his voice was in my ear faster than I could comprehend. 

“Pretty boy and his ‘slow moving ass’ is here and ready to go. Sorry for keeping you, your majesty,” Seth huskily whispered to me. 

I flinched away and turned to see an obnoxious smirk plastered across his face. The other two boys broke out in laughter and my cheeks heated with my slight embarrassment. "I’ll forgive you,“ I muttered and then added more clearly, "just don’t let it happen again, pretty boy." 

Eventually we all made it to our car with our bags loaded. Finn was driving with Sami in the passenger seat and Seth and I occupied the back. Before we got going too far, I begged Finn to stop somewhere to eat and Seth and Sami jumped to my defense, so we made a quick stop at Arby’s before getting on the highway, en route to Knoxville. 

"So (y/n), I saw your match tonight,” Seth started in between bits of a roast beef sandwich. “That was some pretty badass stuff you were throwing out in the ring. You really gave Sasha a run for her money.”

“Thanks. We really push each other to be our best and most extreme selves." Me and Sasha loved any excuse to kick each other’s asses and we both had a love for nitty gritty, hardcore wrestling like the Attitude Era. It made us both better at our game and that’s why we were on top of the Women’s Division. 

"Ya know," Finn piped up from the front, "if the hardcore title was still around, you would definitely be the holder.” 

I smirked, my ego boosted. That was my favorite belt the WWE had ever had. When I was little, I made my own Hardcore belt and wore it to school everyday.

Seth snorted, "Guess the Women’s championship belt will just have to do for now.” He side eyed me from his seat and gave me a wink. 

My face flushed and Sami caught my gaze from the rear view mirror, giving me a questioning look. "Guess so,“ he said with a smile. 

Small talk ensued from there. Talk of us all missing our homes, our workout routines, cheating on calories, etc. 2 hours into the trip, I began to get sleepy, so I grabbed my small blanket from my go bag and covered myself up. 

"Going to sleep?” Sami asked. 

“Yeah, just a small nap. I really had my ass kicked tonight,” I yawned.

“Sleep tight, ugly." 

I fell asleep relatively quickly to the soft hum of the car moving and the sound of the boys voices. I woke up not much later to the same noises. My neck was surprisingly not stiff from sleeping in the car, but I felt like I was overheating. I rubbed my eyes and looked around the small car to try to establish my surroundings.

It was dark, but I quickly realized that my head was leaned over onto Seth’s shoulder with one of my legs tossed over his. I sat up so quickly I got dizzy and slid myself off of him. 

"Good morning, sleepy.” Seth sounded bemused at the situation, which only added to my utter embarrassment. 

“Hey,” I mumbled. 

Sami turned so he was facing us in the backseat and I regretted making eye contact with him. He had a shit-eating grin plastered across his face and he wiggles his eyebrows at me. “Did you sleep well, dude? You sure looked comfortable." 

There was a small silence before all 3 guys bust out in laughter. I ducked my head and pretended to answer a text from Bayley. "Fuck you, guys." 

Seth playfully hit my arm. ”(y/n), it’s okay. I know I’m irresistible,“ he joked. 

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes and continued to pretend as though I was preoccupied. "Yeah, that’s what you are. Irresistible. Not annoying or egotistical or slow as hell. Not at all." 

By this time their laughter had started to die down, but at Finn’s comment, it immediately started up again. "If he really was those things, then you wouldn’t be moaning his name in your sleep and cuddling up to him." 

My head snapped up and a look of horror passed my features. I hadn’t remembered dreaming, much less dreaming about Seth, but I wouldn’t put it past me either. I was definitely a sleep talker. "Are you serious?” I asked. 

Seth threw his arm around me and pulled me in for a side hug. “It’s okay, princess. Really. I’d be moaning your name in my sleep too, if I had the chance to sleep,” and he winked at me again. 

I pushed his arm off of me like I was disgusted with him, even though my chest tightened with excitement at our closeness. He didn’t buy into my attitude though, because he just continued to smirk at me and moved his hand to my knee instead. I slipped out from underneath his grasp and slide back to my side of the backseat, my cheeks still flushed, but this time with more than just embarrassment. 

The car quieted to just normal bickering and talking again so I seized the opportunity to tell Bayley and Sasha about what happened. I furiously typed the message out to our group chat and waited for a response from the girls.

My phone pinged a few minutes later and I opened the message: 

Sasha - “HOLY SHIT! I just wanna say that I called that! I told Bay that you’d be doing Seth by Wrestlemania time.” 

Me - “Wait, why did you think that I’d be doing Seth by Wrestlemania???”

Bayley - “Hahaha!! Because Seth is definitely into your crazy ass. He liiiiiikes you, loser.”

Me - “What???" 

Sasha - "Yeah, I don’t get it either, babe. lol" 

Bayley - "Cesaro told us about Seth’s crush when we went out for drinks after the show in Pittsburg a couple weeks ago.” 

I locked my phone and shoved it roughly into the front pocket of my bag. Seth raised an eyebrow at me, but I just shook my head at him. 

While he was talking to Finn and Sami for the rest of the ride, I watched him from the corner of my eye. He was pretty handsome, but I had always thought that. He had a warm laugh and seemed to be a really big nerd. In all honesty, I had a crush on him. And apparently he had a crush on me. Eventually he caught my eye and I looked away before he could smile at me and make me blush again. 

We finally arrived at our hotel in Knoxville around 1 am. The boys were already heading into the hotel while I was still getting my bags. I lifted the heaving suitcase out of the back of the SUV when I felt a hand on my waist. I spun to come eye to eye with Seth. This time I didn’t have the time or want to pull away from his touch.

He pulled me in close to his chest and brought his lips to my ear. "I really didn’t mind your little nap in the car earlier,“ he whispered. His voice was thick and full of lust. "I could go for another nap like that sometime.” My breath caught in my throat when he bit my earlobe. 

He pulled away and gave me a charming smile, pulling the rest of my bags out of the car for me, “Here you go.”

I thanked him quietly, my head still reeling with what just happened. We walked into the hotel together and checked in to our rooms, discovering we were right across the hall from each other. The ride in the elevator was quiet, thick clouds of sexual tension hanging over us. 

We came to our rooms and I paused, my hand resting on the doorknob. I looked over my shoulder and saw Seth was staring at me. A small smile appeared on my lips and I opened my door, pausing at the threshold. “Goodnight pretty boy,” I said smugly.

“Goodnight, princess. Nap with you later,” he joked. 

 And just like that, we both retired to our rooms for the night. I laid face down on the bed and groaned. Fuck Seth Rollins for being so damn charming and making me fall for him.

I only laid for a while before a knock on my door sounded. I don’t know who or what I expected, but I checked my hair in the bathroom mirror before opening the door. Sasha and Bayley stood in the hall, giving me mischievous and questioning looks. 

Bayley spoke up when they both pushed their way into my room. “Dude, what was all that? We saw you from down the hall and it looked like maybe someone has a little cru-”

“Shut up!” I cut her off. “It’s nothing." 

But that night, I found myself dreaming about Seth and I realized that it was slowly becoming something.

[beautiful-liu]

Chapter 12 - Remember me - Kryber

Title: Remember me

Pairing: Kryber [Amber Liu x Krystal Jung] Fandom: f(x) Genre: Drama, romance

Summary: The bad ass androgynous girl Amber Josephine Liu with a sex, drugs and rock-‘n-roll attitude whom everybody seemed to fear and admire at the same time, with the flash of a smug smile on her handsome face, and a sigaret or lolly pop in her mouth, depending on her mood. A leather jacket always hugging her shoulders, ripped jeans and a loose tank top that displayed just a tiny bit of her sports bra when she lifted her tattoo-filled arms. Everyone was weak for Amber Liu. Krystal simply didn’t see it. Until that one night she accidentally met her, and met a whole other person than the stories she had been made to believe. Word count: 5200 Rating: T A/N: Excuse the grammar mistakes. This is my first time writing a multi chaptered fic. Hope y'all enjoy the progress!

Read it on: AO3 & asianfanfics

Moodboard: x

Warmth as well as the delicious smell of freshly baked garlic bread and pizza overwhelmed them when they stepped into the restaurant. They hadn't set two steps when one of the waitresses came up to them. Like the other employees she wore a black blouse tugged into black jeans. She had tied a white apron around her waist and had her dark brown hair in a ponytail. She looked friendly, which could not be said of all the employees that worked here. They usually were quite a lot older. "Can I help you?" she asked. Krystal put up a smile and nodded. "I believe there's a reservation for Jung? Some of the group have already arrived, we're the last two," she said. The waitress made an 'Aahh' sound and looked their name up in the reservation book close to the entrace. She looked up and smiled. "Yes, please follow me." Krystal pinched in Amber's hand nervously when they followed the waitress to their table. With every step she took she became more nervous and nervous. It was almost unbearable. It didn't take her a long time to spot her parents. They were seated at the table at the farest end of the restaurant. Her parents had their backs towards them, but Jessica saw them coming and lifted her head a little bit. Her parents seemed to be too busy into their conversation to notice the small sign Jessica had given away and therefor didn't look up. The waitress didn't walk all the way towards the table, but half past the way pointed into the direction, because it simply was the only table occupied. "I will come in a bit to take your order," she entrusted Amber and Krystal before she walked away. Krystal swallowed audibly when they were left alone. Amber pinched in her hand and she took a deep sigh. "Let's just go and be over with it," Krystal muttered. And so they crossed over those last few meters to the table. At first, her parents didn't even have clue that they were there. Only when their bodies cast a shadow over the table and Jessica looked up and smiled, her father and mother turned around, both with a wide grin on their face. Krystal smiled weakly and Amber had her usual cheeky grin on her face. They still held hands. Slowly, the grins were fading from their parents' faces when they noticed who Krystal had brought to the dinner. She was almost unable to look at them, seeing as their smiles had completely faded from their faces now. Jessica still smiled, but even on her face had grown a concerning frown. Did her sister sense there was something wrong? "Amber..." her father eventually spoke. Her father's voice made her realize that she hadn't even introduced Amber yet. Was it really necessary though? Krystal cleared her throat. "Mom, dad, Jess.. I want you to meet my girlfriend, Amber," she said in a little voice. When Krystal finished her sentence, there was silence. The silence endured for a long time. Her parents took their time to let their eyes slide over Amber. Her father's face was shocked and her mother looked even angry. Amber squeezed Krystal's hand to reassure her. Eventually, her father stood up. He brushed the dust off his suit and placed his hands in the pockets of his pants. He straightened his back and looked down upon Amber, who was at least a head smaller than him. Even though Amber had to look up, she kept smiling relaxed. There was no sign that she was nervous at all. Did she have so much faith in her father? At least more than Krystal did. With horror, she looked how her father stepped closer to Amber. Her father cleared his throat. "Listen," he said, in a voice so low and grumbling it could've belonged to a grizzly bear. "If you hurt my daughter in any way, I will make sure that I won't only ruin your life but also those of your family. Do you understand me, Amber?" Amber snorted. "If you think I'd ever hurt Krystal then you have the wrong impression of me. I don't blame you, sir, a lot of people do," she said. Her father grinded his teeth together and frowned deeply. He pointed his finger towards Amber. "I don't like you, let's put that on front. You're too witty for your own good," he hissed. "Yeah well a lot of people say that too," Amber chuckled. She turned towards Mrs. Jung and Jessica, stepped around her father and shook both of their hands. "Nice to meet you, I'm Amber," she said twice. Her mother barely touched her hand and quickly took it back again when Amber was done, but Jessica's face was as bright as the sun. She smiled broadly and shook her hand firmly. "Nice to meet you too, Amber. I'm Jessica," she said. "I agree with my father but from the stories I've heard, I don't think my baby sister could wish for someone better." Amber laughed and nodded thankfully to Jessica. Even Krystal smiled a little at the words of her sister. "Well, I guess we could get started then," growled her father as he sat down again. Krystal nodded and sat down next to him. Amber sat down next to Jessica. Krystal actually didn't feel much like sitting next to her father — who had just threatened to destroy Amber's life a few moments ago — but she didn't want to let Amber sit next to him either. It would be the safest if she sat down next to Jessica. There was another awkward silence, until Jessica waved for one of the waitresses to come over and take the order of their drinks. The waitress was way too happy for the air that hung around the table. They all gave their orders. Mr. Jung ordered beer for himself and white wine for his wife and two daughters. Amber looked at her with a raised eyebrow when that happened, because Krystal tended either not to drink or to drink very strong drinks, but Krystal placed her index finger to her lips to silence her. Amber chuckled. When the waitress turned towards Amber, her girlfriend smiled. "A water for me, please," Amber said. Krystal's father raised his eyebrows. "You don't drink?" he asked sceptically. Amber turned towards him. "I still have to drive your daughter home, sir," Amber said casually. Her father stared at her for a moment, silenced, then huffed. "I don't like it that you're responsible. It makes you harder to hate," he mumbled. Amber laughed and shrugged. Krystal chuckled softly too, causing her father to glance at her warningly. If there was one thing Mr. Jung didn't like, was that he was outsmarted or proved wrong. When the drinks came, the waitress also handed them the menu's, so that they could choose what to pick. The Jungs knew rather soon what they wanted to eat, since they knew the whole card by heart. Amber was still looking when the waitress came back. Even when everyone had already ordered, she was still looking. Eventually she put her menu down and smiled to the employee. "Just give me whatever he has ordered," she said, whilst nodding towards Krystal's father. The waitress nodded and wrote it down, before walking towards the kitchen. Her father was looking at Amber strangely, with his head tilted a little bit to the side. "I don't know what to think of you," he eventually said. Amber laughed. "Well, I do. You should like me, sir," she said. Krystal pressed her lips firmly on each other not to burst out in laughing. Even in front of her parents, who were clearly shocked that she dated a girl — Amber Liu, even — she still joked. And perhaps, it was good she did, because it did ease the air a little bit. Still, that didn't take away that Amber was playing with her life. Her father had pulled up his eyebrows and slowly licked his lips, not taking his eyes off Amber, clearly not liking this attitude of hers. "I can see why my daughter likes you. As a father, it's my job to hate you, no matter how nice you are," he said after a few moments of silence. Amber chuckled again. "I can live with that, sir. As long as Krystal is happy." Krystal rolled her eyes and kicked her from under the table. "Stop being so cheesy!" she warned. Jessica laughed. "I thought you were into that, sis?" she asked. Krystal's cheeks changed to dark pink and she pouted slightly. "Let's not talk about what I do and do not like in front of mom and dad because I don't think I am or ever will be ready for that conversation," she said, whilst rubbing her temples. "Don't worry honey, we'll get home soon enough," said Amber with a wink which caused Krystal's cheeks to turn even darker and Amber and Jessica to high-five each other. Mr and Mrs Jung watched helplessly at the sudden dirty humour. It was the last thing they wanted to hear from their daughters and their daugther's girlfriend. The drinks came. The waitress placed them all neatly in front of them and told them that their food would take a little more preperation before it would be brought it. The five people nodded quietly, each with their own reserved smile on their faces. It would be less awkward for all of them to be here if the dinner was here. Then the painful silence would be interrupted by the clattering for knives and forks on the plates and the smacking of their mouths. But for now, the silence endured, and Amber felt a great need to say something. She wanted to break the silence with a joke or just with some small talk. Joking, that was what she was good at. Not pleasing grumpy old men who were biased already. Amber knew Mr. Jung would never give them their blessing and she guessed Krystal did too. The mother was still too astonished too speak. Luckily Jessica was on their side, but Jessica wasn't the problem. They needed to convince Mr. Jung, and that would be a hard job. "Well, Jess, how's work going?" Krystal eventually said, to break the ice. Jessica smiled at her younger sister, clearly thankful that awkwardness was broken now that they've started a conversation. "Ah just so-and-so. You know, the usual. Doing a lot of vocal exercises. Taking strolls around town, hoping that a some good lyrics that's good enough for a song pops up into your head and sticks," Jessica said. She shrugged, before turning to Amber. "Amber, what do you want to become?" Her girlfriend smiled broadly. Krystal let her head rest upon her hands and gazed at her while started to talk about her ambitions to become a music producer. There appeared a sparkle in her eyes when she talked about her dreams. The same sparkle that had appeared during their first night, when they broke into the university. It was something special, really, something so incredibly beautiful about Amber that Krystal just had a hard time looking away. You'd think, that as her girlfriend, she would see that cute little tingly in her dark eyes more often than other people, but even Krystal had to search for it from time to time. Sometimes, she caught Amber staring at her with the same gaze, with her eyes full of sparkles. Krystal didn't know whether Amber knew she noticed her shining eyes, or that she even was aware that she got a certain happy look in her eyes from time to time, but even if she did, she never called her out on it. Jessica's smile grew wider when she found out that she and Amber had their passion for music in common. Once in a while, Krystal looked at her dad from the corner of her eyes, but his expression looked just as grumpy as before; not betraying his inner feelings. She didn't know whether the fact that Amber wanted to become a music producer was good thing in his eyes. Her father hadn't liked it when Jessica told him that she didn't want to lead Jung Internationals but instead wanted to persue a music career. Would he think of Amber as a misfit? Of someone who couldn't take care of her responsibilities; her father's company when she was older? Krystal bit her lip. The food took longer than expected and the group grew fretful again. The conversation had fallen silent again and this time everyone was silently sipping their drinks. Amber looked nervous, Krystal noticed. Logically, she would've felt nervous around her parents too if they were so disdainful and unaccepting too. Usually she would've made a joke by now, but Amber got that this probably wasn't the right time. Her parents wouldn't appreciate that as much. Her father cleared his throat. "I'm going for a smoke," he announced. "Amber, come with me please." Krystal and Amber exchanged a confused look, but Mr. Jung already stood up from the table, which made Amber obliged to follow. Quickly, the brunette pressed a kiss against Amber's cheek before she left. There was a hint of surprisement on Amber's face when she felt Krystal's lips on her cheek, but she smiled nevertheless. Usually it was the other way around — Amber kissing Krystal's cheek — and it was endearing that Krystal kissed her right in front of her parents. You'd say that by getting their approval, you'd try to act so pure and innocent as possible. But perhaps Krystal had another strategy. Maybe it was better to let them get used to the idea that their daughter is into girls too. That her lips will not be planted on a man's cheek with a 2-day-old scruff but the soft, silky cheek of a woman instead. Perhaps that's even better. Tolerating them is great, but supporting them is even better. Krystal's father and Amber walked off towards the exit of the restaurant. A silence set in between the three other women. For the first time since Amber and she walked in, her mother lifts her head and speaks. "You know your father is not as accepting as I am, Krystal," her mother begins warningly. "You have brought a diffecult task upon herself." Krystal looked up to her mother and smiled weakly. Jessica's eyes uncomfertably switched between her younger sister and her mother. "Excuse me, mother, but I know what I am doing. I have considered this for a while but I wanted you to know who I really am. I want to show you and father that I'm not some perfect doll you made me to be. And if it's worth anything, you haven't shown your support for us too so you're just as bad as dad." Krystal's eyes fell on her father's jacket hanging over the chair. Knowing he always kept his cigarettes in there, she stood up and took the half-empty packet from one of the pockets. "I'm going to bring this to dad. He forgot them," she said coldy, before walking off. She felt her mother's eyes burn in her back when she walked off, but really, Krystal has had enough of her attitude. Acting as if she was the lesser of two evils whilst in fact she disliked her relationship with Amber just as much as her father did. Perhaps her father was even more open-minded, because it was his best friend's daugher his child was dating with. Maybe, for the love for his friend, he'd accept them. Her mother, on the other hand, didn't have such a thing. But it was easier to pretend her father was the person who was hard to convince out of the two instead of admitting you have a problem with your daughter being bisexual. Krystal's face squinted together into an annoyed frown whilst she walked to the entrance of the restaurant. She had seen her father and Amber dissapear through the doors, although she was not quite sure which way they had walked to. She hoped they'd just stand outside the front doors, but when she got outside, all she saw was the half-filled parking lot. With a sigh she looked around, but there was no trail of her father or Amber. She looked at the packet of cigarettes in her hands. If she returned to that table now, she'd get questioned why she hadn't given her father the cigarettes so there was no turning back. With a sigh she started to walk around, hoping to find them. After walking around for a couple of minutes, searching the parking lot and trying to find out where they were, she eventually walked around the corner of the building, hoping to find them there. She didn't and she almost wanted to walk back in - not even caring anymore if her mother asked her why she hadn't delivered the cigarettes - when she heard voices... their voices. Krystal stopped to listen, suddenly well aware how her heels made incredibly much noise when she walked. "-were supposed to find her someone for her!" she heard her father breathe angrily. There was a chuckle.. from Amber. "I have found her someone, now, didn't I?" "I didn't mean it to be YOU!" her father hissed. "Well, maybe you gotta be more specific the next time then," Amber muttered, clearly agitated too. "Look, sir, I can't control who she loves or not." "It's not 'love', it's a fling. Something that belongs to puberty. I would've thought that she would be at least a bit grown up by this age.." Krystal wrapped her hand in front of her mouth not to make a sound. Suddenly her fast breathing seemed very loud and she was scared her father or girlfriend would hear her. Clearly she wasn't supposed to hear this. "Whatever you say, man," Amber reacted annoyedly. "I don't think it is. That's just you trying to convince yourself your precious daughter is straight. She isn't, obviously." "How do you know? You've only known her for a few months! I am her father!" her father barked. "Because I slept with her." There was a silence. Krystal could hear her own heart drum loudly against her ribs. "You filthy little-" Her father didn't finish her sentence. Krystal couldn't see what was happening, but there was some ruffling of clothes, a painful whimper that belonged to Amber. "Look, I wanted to set her up with my friend. He's classy, has a rich taste. Middle-classed, but fancy. But to do that, she'd have to let me get close to her first. She hated me, you know, and I didn't know why, but I had to get her to trust me first. How would I have known that she'd kiss me," Amber said, a little faster, more nervous now. "You could've turned her down! Broken her heart for her own good!" her father said loudly. His voice shook. "Yeah, that wouldn't at all have driven her away from me," Amber answered sarcastically. "Either way. I couldn't because I like-" At that moment, Krystal turned away. She turned away and ran back inside, as fast as she could on her heels. When she came back to the table, tears in her eyes, she threw the cigarettes as casually as she could on the table and muttered that she was going to the bathroom as quickly and as normally as possible, without making her voice shake. She hadn't seen her sister and mother's face but she hoped her lie was convincingly enough for her to get away with it. Jessica might have a harder time believing her, but she hoped that her sister wouldn't ask her about anything whilst they were still in the restaurant. Quickly she hurried off towards the toilets. Luckily no one was there but her and she almost collapsed on the edge of the sink. There was a large mirror in the women's restroom, causing a reflection of herself to plague her. When she looked up, she saw how awful she looked. Of her so-called beauty was nothing left. Her hair had been ruffled by the wind, her eyes looked almost insane. Krystal was pale from herself, but now every little piece of colour had drained from her face, causing her to look like a ghost. Her arms shook while they held up her body. With short, quick inhales she breathed. It felt like her head was filled with cottons. Krystal forced herself to open the tap and splash some water in her face. But she didn't feel like herself doing that, it felt like someone else had posessed her body and made her move. She couldn't think clearly. It reminded her of being drunk. The water made her feel a bit better, but only for a few seconds. She still couldn't concentrate well, but the conversation of her father and Amber kept playing in her head. Fragments, sentences and words repeated again and again until she was almost driven mad. The meaning of the words had barely gotten through to her the first time, but the more she heard them the more she began to understand about what had happened between her father and Amber. Her father had arranged Amber to find her a partner. It took her ten minutes to get out. By then, her father and Amber were already back at the table and the food had been served. Krystal had dried her face and ereased every piece of evidence that she had had a mental breakdown just a few moments ago. She tried to smile sweetly to her family and girlfriend, but she felt the corners of her mouth tug on her muscles when she tried to make it a big smile. It almost hurt. Amber and her father both smiled back and she couldn't help to feel utterly betrayed by both of them. That her father would do something like this behind her back wasn't that surprising. He wanted a good heir and Krystal wouldn't be one until she married a man of importance, despite her amazing grades and work experience. She wouldn't be good enough if she didn't marry someone her father liked. And her father defenitely didn't like Amber. Still, he asked her to help him to get her a man. Perhaps even he saw what a lady's girl Amber was. And perhaps his plan would have worked if Krystal wasn't bisexual. She would've never fallen in love with her, perhaps they'd become friends too. But his plan failed. But Amber... After all this time, after months of being with her, spending almost every day with her, of knowing her through and through, she had never expected Amber to betray her. She would have never thought that Amber would just make a complot with her father. Krystal felt bitter about it. She felt betrayed, hurt that her girlfriend was not the kind of person she pretended to be. Or well... perhaps she was. Krystal knew that this would happen. It had been a lower belly feeling when she had kissed Amber that first time. She knew what the girl was like. A troublemaker. A punk. Someone who doesn't care for others, but only for themself. It was exactly the kind of thing Amber would have done before they started dating. Krystal was foolish to think that she would change for her, or that there actually was someone genuinely sweet under that layer of roughness, dark clothing and tattoos. When they started on their food, Krystal couldn't take more than a few bites of her favourite dish. It tasted like it had cucumbers in it, even though she knew it hadn't. It just felt wrong to eat and act happy now. Whilst Jessica kept her parents entertained, Krystal and Amber quietly ate their dinner. Amber sometimes tried to catch her eye, but Krystal pretended not to see her. She couldn't right now. It made her heart ache. The dinner lasted and lasted until a point where Krystal was able to blurt out that she had heard her father and Amber talk just to get it off her chest. But she kept her mouth shut, praying that every passing second would bring her quickly closer to the end of this dinner. She needed time to think, to decide whether or not she was going to confront Amber. She had already made up her mind about her father. He simply didn't deserve another chance. Because he shaped her to be like him, she therefor couldn't give him another chance. Her father had made her hard, unbreakable, unbowable. She didn't accept this kind of behaviour of him and his chance for his daugther's genuine love was gone. Her father would understand since they were alike after all. But she was still doubting about Amber. Krystal could easily say that she was way more fond of her than her her father and therefor it was harder to make up her mind. Did she just let it slide and pretend nothing has ever happened? It surely would save their relationship. Amber would still be sweet to her; treat her like royalty. They could be happy. Only one more year and Krystal would move out. They wouldn't have to be bothered by her parents anymore. But from the deepest parts of her body she felt that she wouldn't be able to do that. She simply wouldn't be happy knowing that their relationship rested on the fact that Amber had needed to win her trust to set her up with someone else. Her plan had gone wrong and Krystal had fallen for her instead. Back then she had been sure that Amber liked her, but she wasn't so sure now. Was this all just a big game to her? Win over her heart, the girl who hated her the most. Date the most populair girl on campus besides her. It made her feel hollow. "You know, if you weren't hungry you could've told us so. I spend seventy dollars on your dinner alone and you haven't even taken more than a few bites," her father grumbled, when the waitress had finally cleared their table. Krystal had been too deep in thoughts to eat and now too it took her a few moments before she realized her father was talking to her. "I'm sorry.." she muttered. "I am not-" I am not feeling very well... "Never mind," she said softly. There fell a silence in which every pair of eyes was turned to her. Krystal looked down and wished they would look away. Everyone did, except Amber. Perhaps her gaze was the worst. She felt tears well up behind her eyes. "I will get our coats." Amber stood up from the table and walked off, leaving her with her parents and her sister. From the corners of her eyes she saw her walk away. A sigh left her mouth. When she looked at her girlfriend she couldn't help to admire how good she looked and feel a little proud that she was hers. Her hair pushed back, her blouse that spanned tightly around her muscled arms and shoulders... But that thougth immediately backfired at her when she realized Amber wasn't hers at all. In fact, Amber was wasn't hers at all. She showed that by extraditing her to her father this evening. Amber returned to the table with a pile of coats in her arms. She handed them to her father, mother, Jessica and eventually to her. Her father payed the bill with a swipe of his credit card and the group walked back towards the parking lot. "So, Amber, it was nice to meet you. I'm sure we'll see you another time around. Good night, for now. Come on," her father said stiffly, whilst placing a hand on both of his daughter's back and leading them back to his car. Jessica walked along, but as soon Krystal noticed what was happening, she stopped. Her father turned back to look at her, one eyebrow risen. "I'm driving with Amber," she said stubbornly. Her father heard the determination in her voice, sighed and almost rolled his eyes before he gave her a short nod. "I want you home before 12 o'clock," he said. "I'm not a little kid anymore." "12 o'clock, Krystal." Krystal ignored him and walked towards a girlfriend. Amber smiled thankfully to her and wrapped her arm around her waist. For a moment she wanted to let her head rest against her shoulder because she was so worn out, but she kept herself from doing that. Krystal looked once over her shoulder only to see that Jessica was looking back at her with a worried expression. She tried to smile, but it didn't work. It probably would make Jess even more worried about her. They stepped into Amber's car. Amber took her time putting on her seatbelt and starting the car. She even selected a radio station, even though she knew the best from all that there was no good radiostation at this hour. The lights of her father's car shone across the parking lot, making the other cars look almost creepy in it's bright light. Her father almost raced off the terrain. Only now Amber started the motor of her car and slowly backed up out of her parking place, before turning around and following her father to the highway, albeit a little slower. Neither of them said anything, until finally Amber cleared her throat. "Well, that was... intens, wasn't it?" she said a tad uncomfertable. Krystal nodded. "Yeah, it was.." "At least he didn't like, curse to me or something," she chuckled. Amber rolled up the sleeves of her blouse. On her upper arm were the outlines of a bruise that wasn't there before when they went to the restaurant. Krystal knew, because she had seen her change. Her mind immediately made the connection with her father. "Are you okay?" "Are you okay?" Both of the girls looked at each other in surprise. Amber chuckled, Krystal showed only a faint smile. "You first," Amber said. "Your arm, what happened?" she asked. Krystal hated herself for asking because she knew the answer. She'd only hear Amber lie again. And indeed, she did. "I hit myself. Surprising, isn't it? I bumped hard against a corner when I went to get the coats," she replied. "I'm fine though. I can handle a bruise. But... what about you? You seemed so absent during the dinner. You wouldn't even look at me." "I wouldn't look at you because I simply am not okay," she replied.

[kaikeidou-backstage-blog]

M.c.s. (Tale of Sea Searching) - Status index

Miss Kenjo Fubun-- a kudan who recently showed up at the Kaikeidou-- has her own Twitter account. As it so happens, she recently received a strange artifact called a "depth gauge," and will tell you the current depth measurement if you ask her. (She'll probably announce some milestones here and there unprompted, too.)

-Did you know that the world record for free-diving is 140 meters below sea level? It was set by Carlos Coste in 2006. M.c.s.'s viewers breached that depth pretty quickly.

-The furthest depth ever reached by a human with diving gear, meanwhile, is 322 meters. The record was set by Ahmed Gabr in 2014. As with the free-diving record, this depth was breached within 24 hours.

-"I've received word from an acquaintance that some people from a foreign land are wantin' to see our story, too." Hello to you too, Kenjo-san! (　・・)ノ

-Kuroha: "Store up a lot of depth now, and the videos will progress faster!"

-Kenjo: "All you folks explorin' the Kaikeidou might want t' be careful about descendin' too quickly. After all, who knows what the true culprit might be planning?" who are we supposed to trust............

-Depth is progressing smoothly, though Suimei's spell requirements are still lacking. Y'all sure you're gonna be all right down there?

-You can probably work somethin' out for Language with just a few people cooperatin', but Arcanum and particularly Divnity need a lot of people workin' together. 'S how faith works, y'know?

-As Kuroha says: Kaikeidou Ibun rejects those who seek personal gain alone! If thou desire'st something, band thyselves together!

-We've breached 6000 meters! The first half of the journey is taken care of. ...Wait, what's this say? ..."This depth gauge can measure up to 11,000 meters"? Huh. The more you know.

-Still workin' on the Stage 4 boss's depth requirement. Seems like things are slowin' down a little. Keep at it, folks.

-Stage 3's been cleared, Stage 2 will be cleared as soon as the system update kicks in, and depth is chuggin' along at 7400 meters and counting. Y'all observers up there are probably breathing a sigh of relief right around now, yeah? Well, breathe easy while you still can. Yer' already knee-deep in our event sponsor's trap. (dun dun dunnnn)

-Over 8000 meters an' counting. The depth gauge goes up to 11,000 meters, so I suppose once y'all get there, y' won't need me t' sit around an' make announcements any more. I ought t'do some stretches. As a little warm-up, you know? ...You hearin' me, ya little observers out there?

-...Hup'si-daisy.

-And... Kenjo seems to have left. The account is now simply titled "Depth gauge that Kenjo was holding." Wonder what she's off doing...?

-"Kenjo goes away now and then." Okay then.

-"TOTAL DEPTH HAS REACHED: 10,000 METERS. TO PROCEED TO FURTHER DEPTH, ALL 'LAST SPELLS' MUST BE UNLOCKED. MESSAGE REPEATS..."

-....

-"pUre... hydro... TacOma... YoU... kaI"

-....

-"Hey, I'm back! ...Wha? The depth gauge started talkin' on its own, y' say? Maybe it's got a lucky beast stuffed in there or somethin', eh?"

-Our sponsor may enjoy tricking people, but they won't make it impossible to figure things out. Just pay close attention to what comes next, an' they'll play nice.

-The depth gauge moves once more! Our final destination is 11,000 meters down-- the deepest point in the whole ocean, at the bottom of the Challenger Deep.

-Our current depth is 10,730 meters. (Views during the period where the gauge was stopped were not converted into depth.)

-Good news, observers! The depth gauge broke.

-...Just kiddin'. We've successfully reached 11,000 meters! But the gauge did shut off right as it hit that depth. I suppose that means its role has ended?

-Hey, now. Who ever said Kaikeidou Ibun was over, though?

01 - Kaikeidou Ibun (Nicovideo) (YouTube) (NiCommons download) (SoundCloud) 　Depth requirement: 0m ✔

02 - Just Who Are These Maritime Incidents For? (Nico) (YT) (Commons) (SC) 　Depth requirement: 0m ✔

03 - Indolent Sea Guardian ~ Lazy Siren (Nico) (YT) (Commons) (SC) 　Depth requirement: 100m ✔ 　Spell Cards: 　Water Sign "141 Liquid Snake" - Language: 5 (Spell Break!) 　Solid Sign "Unfreezing Icebrand" - Arcanum: 5 (Spell Break!) 　"..."

04 - Seabed Search Party ~ Curiously Deep Field (Nico) (YT) (Com.) (SC) (MQ) 　Depth requirement: 500m ✔

05 - Inequitable Enthalpy (Nico) (YT) (Commons) (SC) 　Depth requirement: 1000m ✔ 　Spell Cards: 　Water Sign "Pure Ozone Hole" - Divinity: 200 (Spell Break!) 　Vapor Sign "Waterless Sea" - Language: 9 (Spell Break!) 　"..."

06 - The Kaikeidou's Tenpyō-Era Thoroughfare (Nico) (YT) (Commons) (SC) 　Depth requirement: 2500m ✔

07 - An Unheard-of Kaifūsō ~ Oumi's Lost Page (Nico) (YT) (Com.) (SC*) (MQ) 　Depth requirement: 3000m ✔ 　Spell Cards: 　Water Sign "Random Access Mariners" - Divinity: 200 (Spell Break!) 　Vibrate Sign "24,000Hz High-Tone Bullet" - Language: 8 (Spell Break!) 　Shake Sign "5MHz Harmonic Bullet" - Arcanum: 8 (Spell Break!) 　"..."

08 - Dragon Palace of the Modern World (Nico) (YT) (Commons) (SC) 　Depth requirement: 6000m ✔

09 - Faithful Hound (Nico) (YT) (Commons) (SC) (MQube) 　Depth requirement: 7200m ✔ 　Spell Cards: 　Water Sign "Wing Veil Ripple" - Arcanum: 15 (Forbidden Break) 　Impact Sign "Collision Cross" - Language: 7 (Spell Break!) 　Impact Sign "Inelegant Impulse" - Divinity: 200 (Spell Break!) 　"..."

10 - The Jovial Strategist, and the Dancing Spectators (Nico) (YT) (Com.) (SC) 　Depth requirement: 8000m ✔

11 - A Cacophony's Wavelength and a Tidal Wave (Nico) (YT) (Com.) (SC) (MQ) 　Depth requirement: 9000m ✔ 　Spell Cards: 　Kai-Style Iridescent Danmaku 1 - Arcanum: 5 (Spell Break!) 　Kai-Style Iridescent Danmaku 2 - Arcanum: 6 (Spell Break!) 　Kai-Style Iridescent Danmaku 3 - Arcanum: 7 (Forbidden Break) 　Water Sign "Seven-Coloured Aqua Line" - Divinity: 200 (Spell Break!) 　"..."

12 - Bohemian Ringleader (Nico) (Commons) (SC) (MQube) 　Depth requirement: 9990m ✔

13 - A Festival Orchestra that Ends Today ~ Climax Benefit? (oiNc) 　Depth requirement: 10,000m ✔ 　Spell Cards: 　True Eye "Those Eyes, Her Eyes" - (Spell Berak!) 　Eye Sign "Costless Gazer" - (Slpel Ebrka!) 　Differentiation "Purkinje's Distorted Red Hue" - (Lespl Kbrea!) 　Water Sign "The Crystal Lens Known as the Ocean" - (Splel Bkaer!) 　Festival Sign "Yaobi-Style New Comedy: 　　　　　　　Ocean Between Dream & Reality" - (Espll Rbeka!) 　"Climax Benefit" - (Llesp Kaerb!)

*To proceed any further, the true Final Stage must be unlocked. To do that...

Last Spells: 　"Pure Enthalpy" - Divinity: 250 (Spell Break!) 　"Hydrogen Preventer" - Divinity: 250 (Spell Break!) 　"Tacoma Resonance" - Divinity: 250 (Spell Break!) 　"Youkai's Impact" - Divinity: 250 (Spell Break!) 　"Kai-Style Freak Wave" - Divinity: 250 (Spell Break!)

13 - A Festival Orchestra that Ends Today ~ Climax Benefit (Nico) (C.) (SC) (MQ) 　Requirement: 10,000m + Last Spell Break! ✔ 　Spell Cards: 　True Eye "Those Eyes, Her Eyes" - (Spell Break!) 　Eye Sign "Close your 3y3s" - Divinity: 260 (Spell Break!) 　Differentiation "Purkinje's Ominous Blue Hue" - Divinity: 280 (Spell Break!) 　Water Sign "The Crystal Lens Known as the Ocean" - (Spell Break!) 　Festival Sign "Yaobi-Style New Comedy: 　　　　　　　Ocean Between Dream & Reality" - (Spell Break!) 　"The Festival Orchestra of Kyouga's Sisters" - Divinity: 300 (Spell Break!)

19 - Yaobi's Branch Shrine (Nico) 　Requirement: Final Stage Clear! ✔

14 - To Whom Does the Erebal Sanctuary Belong? (Nico) (Commons) 　Requirement: 11,000m + Final Stage Clear! ✔ 　Spell Cards: 　"Black Dragon's Presence" - ???

15 - Nine Heads' Pride (Nico) (Commons) (MQube) 　Requirement: 11,000m + Final Stage Clear! ✔ 　Spell Cards: 　Drake Sign "Water God of Togakushi" - (Spell Break!) 　Gluttony "Tang Demon-Devouring Folklore" - (Spell Break!) 　Esoterica "Black Dragoon" - Esoterica: 1 (Spell Break!) 　Language "Priest Mangan and the Dragon-Sealing Prayer" - Language: 1 (SB!) 　Divinity "Kuzuryuu-Style Freak Wave" - Divinity: 100 (Spell Break!) 　"Undefeated by the Eightfold-Brewed Liquor" - (Spell Break!) 　"Take-no-Nobori 11,000" - (Spell Break!) 　Water Sign "Black Dragon God's Pride" - Divinity: 200 (Spell Break!)

16 - SEA OF STRATAGEM (Commons) 　Requirement: 11,000m + Final Stage Clear! ✔

17 - The Iron-Fisted Aurum Camellia (Commons) (MQube) 　Requirement: 11,000m + Final Stage Clear! ✔ 　Spell Cards: 　Strike Sign "Herculean Arm in One Straight Line" 　Strike Sign "Off-Board Two-Pawn Move" 　Strike Sign "The Woman with Three Fingers" 　Kudan Sign "Four-Syllable Foretelling" 　Kudan Sign "That Likeness Which Pierces Through Calamity" 　"The Iron-Fisted Aurum Camellia"

18 - Descendant of Miike (MQube) 　Requirement: Game clear! ✔

20 - Poetry of the Seas Above ~ Journey to -Migrate- (MQube) 　Requirement: Game clear! ✔

[urbanfanfare]

Where I Don't Want To Be- Chapter 1

Title: Where I Don’t Want To Be Author: letmetellyabouttrey Chapter(s): 1/? Characters: Trey Songz, Original Female Characters, Original Male Characters. Rating: M Warnings: Triggers, Language, and will definitely earn it’s rating as we move forward. Fic Summary: Kyianne Taylor has always been there to take care of her family. Fresh out of high school and ready to take on life ahead of her, she finds her life turned upside down when her parents make a confession that will drastically change the course of her life… Where I don’t Want To Be- Chapter 1 Kyianne POV: I woke up today with a feeling I couldn’t place… it was weird. Not so much weird, as much as feeling like everything was about to change. For the good or the bad I wasn’t sure yet… only time would tell… I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, and got out of bed. I did my hygiene thing, before getting dressed in a pair a jeans and an old tee-shirt with faded red ink on it. I was pulling my long black hair back into an high ponytail, I sat all the way down at my kitchen table before it dawned on me, what today was… My 18th birthday! My two 6 year old twin sisters Tammi and Tanya came in the room along with my older brother Marc, who wasn’t exactly my Brother. He was my cousin to be exact, but his mom, who was my dad’s sister was very sick, and died when he was two, and his dad never claimed him, so my parents took him in, and here we are 19 years later him being x21. Then again we never saw our parents. “Happy Birthday Kyi!” Tammi and Tanya said as they handed me a homemade card. I loved the card just as much, if not more than a store bought card. “Happy Birthday! You are finally an adult! Still a kid to me, but an adult all the same!” Marc handed me a store bought card, with $20 stuck inside. “Thanks big head!” “Whatever just be lucky I gave you anything. Mighty Mouth!” He said grabbing his phone and texting something into the iPhone screen. I stuck my tongue out at him, before getting up out my seat to make breakfast, before getting the girls off to school. I put on a pot of water for some grits, and started making eggs. I practically ran the house by myself seeing as my parents, although they did the right thing by taking in Marc, they never really did right by any of us. Yea, they made sure we had a roof over our head, and food, but that was all because they could be charged with child abuse otherwise. I took care of the child rearing while they though money at the situation until we could just go away. It wasn’t like they didn’t have the means, they both worked at some high-end banking and investment firms, to which they owned their own firm. but they never even stayed here half the time. We lived in a modest, little home in Georgia, on the skirts of Atlanta, while they lived another life in the middle of the city. It was like we didn’t exist except for clientele dinners, or holidays. It was different living like this, not having your parents around to monitor your every move, coming home when you wanted, and not to a curfew. Yes, they tried to come in sometimes and lay down the law, but most of the time it was what I or Marc said goes for the twins seeing as we basically raised them so far. Marc was a good guy, but he was too busy chasing skirts and now he caught up in some mess. I mean he has his whole life ahead of him, this whole making me an aunt thing was not the business. “So birthday girl, where would you like to go for dinner? I pondered where I wanted to go. “You know what I’m not even sure. I’ll think about it today and let you know.” I said turning the eggs around in the pan. “You’ve got it good. Today’s your birthday, last day of high school. I say today’s a damn good day.” “Yea, it’s funny it all fell that way.” I said plating the eggs, grits and toast. The twins came and sat down at the table. I fixed them a plate. “Y'all two hurry up and eat. I still need to comb your hair and drop y'all off. Marc are you bringing LaQuita with you tonight?” “I thought you didn’t like her?” He questioned while putting some grape jelly on his toast. “I don’t but she’s the mother of your growing child, my Niece or Nephew. I’ll be damned, if I let her keep me from that over petty stuff.” “Your a great woman. You and Quita will get along good someday.” “You say that a lot, personally I don’t see that shit happening, now you get out of here too, your supposed to be in class in about 30 mins. You already told me about that professor of yours. He grabbed another piece of toast he had left, before mussing up the girls hair, to their protests, and stole kisses from each of them… After School: Today had been a long day, but I was happy it was over. This stage of my life was over, and as I walked out of school for the day I got a bit sentimental aaa I cried and hugged my friends goodbye. Grinning from ear to ear as I said my final goodbye to this high school that been apart of my formative years. I drove down the street in my Acura MDX SUV (another gift from my parents., stopping for gas and a Arizona Raspberry Iced Tea before picking up my sisters from Kindergarten and heading home. I pulled in the driveway noticing Marc’s blue Ford Explorer in the drive way. We walked inside seeing Quita and Marc on the couch watching a re-run of The Parkers. Quita who was 8 months pregnant stood up, a slight glare in her eyes. Then again she always had a glare when she saw me.? “Happy birthday” she said with very little interest in actually giving me any attention. “Thank you Quita. Marc, I wasn’t expecting you home yet. Didn’t you have another class?” “Quita had a doctors appointment today so I went.” “Oh yea I forgot, how did it go?” I sat down on the couch, my backpack on the floor. “Great, my SON is going to be a very health, a happy little man.” He said with a grin. “Shit not if he keeps sitting on my Blatter. I’ve got to go to the bathroom.” We all laughed and I moved my stuff of her way. “Oh My God! A boy Marc! I’m so excited! I know you wanted a boy, so I know you are happy!” “Ecstatic!” I turned to the twins, who had been in the room with us too. “So, I know y'all got homework. Hop to it. They huffed and walked to the kitchen table. Me right behind them. They had one more week of school left so they still had work to do. "Kyi, why do we have to do it now?” Tammi said. “Because if you don’t do it now, your not going with us out to eat later.” “Dang!” They said at the same time. I looked over the simple addition and reading and determined that for both assignments it shouldn’t take more then 30 mins total. It wasn’t that bad. The teacher just wanted them to write down what they were most excited about for the summer. I was leaving the kitchen, when I almost ran into Quita. I started to move, but I wanted to say something first. “Hey Quita?” “Yes?” She said with bite in her voice. She flipped her burgundy hair over her shoulder. “I wanted to say to you. That I’m happy for you and my brother. I know he loves you, and I also know that you and I have not started off on the right foot, but you are going to be apart of this family now. So let’s bury the hatchet, and move on.” She eyed my hand suspiciously, before crossing her arms under her chest and glaring me down. “I’m not sure what kind of game you think your…” “ Quita please, I’m not running anything on you. My brother loves you, and I would hope you loved him enough to take the rope I’m throwing to you.” “It’s bitches like you always trying to set me up. Marc’s my man, I won’t let you take him from the family.” “Quita, I’m not trying to hurt you or break y'all up. Shit you are fucking 8 months pregnant. Even if he was miserable, which I find highly likely, he still wouldn’t do his child like that. He knows what that’s like, Shit we all do. I’m trying to squash this shit. For the sake of the baby, let’s be amicable about this ok?” “I’m going to say ok, but I still believe you aren’t up to any good.” “Likewise. Thanks Quita.” I waved her forward and we watched t.v until the twins finished up. Hours later…. We went to dinner at T.G.I. Friday’s and afterwards Marc dropped Quita at home, and then we went home. When we pulled up I noticed there was a silver Mercedes-Benz in our driveway which could only mean that our parents had stopped by. I looked on the street and saw a black suburban on it, but paid no attention to it. We parked, grabbing our leftovers and went inside to face the music. My parents sat on the couch, anxious as fuck. I knew something was up. “Terry, Linda.” I said without any warmth in my voice. “Hey don’t call us that. We are your parents.” I scoffed, their faces darkened. Their body language changed, and something told me to get the twins away from here. “Hey Marc, take Tammi and Tanya upstairs, get them ready for bed, I’ll be up in a minute.” “Awe how…touching.” My father said. “It is honey, she takes care if them like they belong to her. It’s cute.” “She going to be perfect for them. ” I was getting nervous, who was “them” why was I perfect? “Hold up, who are "them”, what in the hell are you talking about?“ "Language.” “Oh please! Do not come into this house and pretend you are a real parent. None of us have seen you in three months. Do you even know what today is? "Well, well, well, you have more backbone then the last time we saw you, but I suppose that isn’t our problem anymore. You guys can come out now.” Three huge men, came from the kitchen. Surrounding me. I immediately called Marc. “MARC!” He flew down the steps, and started swinging, I started fighting when they started grabbing for me. It was no use, they had me held back by my arms, and Marc by his neck and arms. “ Tisk, Tisk! Such bad manners.” “Let’s just get this shit over with I’ve got stuff to handle tonight…” “What do you want?” “We came for you!” Said our mother. “WHAT?!” Marc and I yelled. “You see, I’ve decided to bolster my sales, and open myself up to a whole new business venture, and let’s just say, I need you to… Help me.” Terry said. “With? And will y'all let us go god dammit!” I pulled against the arms holding me. “My new business involves matching up girls from around the world to men, who are willing to pay…” “Your becoming a PIMP for a living?! Wow! damn I’ve seen everything.” I yelled rolling my arms.“No, you haven’t. Not even the start, here in your sheltered world. And no Terry is not a pimp. He just makes people happy, and uses girls to do so. "Ok and what do I have to do with all of this?” “I have a client, a very special client. He truly doesn’t take No for an answer, Not that I would give him one. You see this client is very powerful, he gets what he wants and he decided out of all the girls he could have that he wants you.” My eyes popped out of my head, tears sprung from my eyes, and Marc went ballistic. “Fuck No! You can’t have her! What kind of sick shit is this! You sold your own fucking daughter!” He started pulling and fighting the guy, before I knew it, they pushed him to the ground and pulled a gun on him. He stopped moving and put his hands up and I heard my “parents” and I use the term loosely were laughing. “Oh such a shame, stuck between a rock and a hard place are you?” “Can’t you all just leave him alone? Please.” “We will as soon as you leave with us.” “No!” “Shut up!” “ Let me put it this way Kyianne, either you go with us, or you continue to fight us and he dies. Oh and we still take you.Take your pick.” I looked him over, and it wasn’t even a decision. “Ok, OK! Fine, You have to promise me, you leave him, and my sisters alone.” “KYI! NO! Fuck no, you get out and don’t worry about me.” I tried to go to him but the man was still holding me back. I looked to Terry and Linda pleadingly. They nodded to the man and he let me go. I ran over to Marc, who just grabbed me and hugged me. “Marc, I’m sure you would be ok with going for me, but what about LaQuita, what about your Son?” His face dawned with realization and hurt. “They need you Tammi and Tanya need you. I need you to take care of them. If your gone, they go back to them, and then they end up just like this, at least now, I know you can take care of them, and they are protected. Please Marc let me go.” His face was so sad, I had never seen him this upset before. I could tell he was still battling with my decision. “You don’t have to give up your life for us. Please Kyi! Think about this!” “There is nothing to think about. It’s either go with them, however unwilling it may be. Or we fight them and you die, I’m taken anyways, and Tammi, Tanya, and your Son is left with no one. Either way I’m going. They made sure of that.” I turned and glared at them. “She’s right Son.” “I’m not your Fucking son! For once it’s something I can be proud of in regards to your family genes.” “Please Terry and Linda, don’t need your help shut up. I just need to hear you say they are, and will always be safe from whatever lifestyle you lead! My sisters will NEVER EVER be subjected to this!” “Y'all have our word. Your sisters are safe. We have to go now!” I huffed back the tears, and pulled Marc to his feet. He was about 5'11 and about medium build. , with brown eyes. “Ok ok. Can I at least say goodbye to my sisters and grab something from upstairs?” “You’ve got ten minutes, and then we are dragging you kicking and screaming out the front door.” I turned and ran up stairs, Marc, and two of the three men, on our tails to make sure we didn’t try anything. I sucked up my tears and opened the door to my sisters’ room. “Kyianne? Why are you crying?” Tanya asked me “It’s ok. Sit down for a sec.” I sat on Tammi’s bed both of them sat beside me, I pulled them really close, as Marc sat on the opposite bed. Tears staining his cheeks, and his eyes were bloodshot red. “Ok you two. Kyianne has to go away for awhile.” “What?” “Why?” They said at the exact same time, panic laced in their voices. “Look it’s going to be ok you two. I need you to behave yourselves for Marc. You two are gorgeous and amazing little girls. I’m only going away because I Love you both, and not because I don’t Understand?” They both nodded, tears on their faces as well. I prayed to god for strength not to break down in front of them, it would only make it harder for them and me. “ Will we ever see you again?” Tammi asked me. I choked as I didn’t have an answer for them, but I was going to lie my ass off just to protect them. “Sure hun you will. I’m not sure when but you will. Now come with me.” We walked the hall to my room, and I went to my jewelry box. Most of my stuff was cheap, costume stuff, but I had a few pieces I knew would stand the test of time, even if I didn’t because they were real. I had three of those to be exact. I had two chains with an identical Rose pendents on them. One was gold, the other silver. Roses were my favorite flower, so they got incorporated into my daily stuff. I handed the Gold to Tammi, and the Silver to Tanya. “I want you two, to take care of these for me.” I grabbed the other necklace, which was something that was passed to me, by my maternal Grandmother Edith. She took care of me and Marc when we were really little, but she died when I was 15, leaving me and Marc to take care of everything. I loved that woman, so I kept a lot of her jewelry, but this one was special to her.I slid it in my pocket. I heard the knocks on the door, one of the once stone-faced guards had softened his face and said, “Ok Miss Taylor, it’s time to go.” The twins grabbed a leg a piece and cried harder. My heart broke and I gently pulled them off and bent down to their faces. “No matter what remember that I LOVE you.” I hugged them as tight as I could and kissed their chubby cheeks, and stood up to Marc’s wet face and hugged him. I gave him a peck on the cheek. “Take care of them Marc. Take care of yourself too. I love you, and your son.” I walked down the stairs, everyone hot on my trail. “Are you ready?” I wanted to smack her for asking me such a dumb ass question. “Don’t ask me a dumb ass question like that. Let’s go.” I looked back one more time at my family, and Marc was holding them both, and I was thrown in the back seat of the Suburban… We pulled away and everything I knew was gone…

[damienthepious]

*taps mic* hello y’all! for this week’s LKT, i proudly present to you... *checks notes* ... *coughs* ... uhh it’s just pwp!!

Awake With Wolf Teeth

[ao3]

[Rating: Explicit

Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast

Relationship: Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla, Lord Arum/Sir Damien

Characters: Lord Arum, Sir Damien, Rilla

Additional Tags: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Smut, (i'm not a scalie but i'm also not a coward), Pining, Reunion Sex, (jesus fuck how do people tag things i'm such a disaster), Biting, Quiet Sex, Sneaky Sex, (adflkajds i hope y'all like this...... i mean... i do? but what the hell do I know??????)

Summary: Sir Damien has been gone for weeks now, and Lord Arum is incapable of waiting a single moment more before he can hold him again.

Notes: Look. I swear I'm writing smut that's NOT just these two. I have uhhhh three more in the works, two with all three of them and one that's Arum/Rilla. This one just. Took over my brain. uhhhhhhh have fun I hope????? *slinks away anxiously* Title taken from the song Heartbeats, by José González.]

~

What Arum is doing today ranks on the list of the riskiest things that he has ever done. It is dangerous, and foolish, and completely necessary because if Arum does not get to touch his knight again very soon he feels as if he is going to catch fire and burn up to a husk.

Damien has been gone for more than a month now. The Citadel has him and a cadre of less skilled knights on a pointless hunt for a creature they will almost certainly fail to catch (then again, with Damien’s considerable skill he can be sure of nothing), and Arum has, bit by bit, been losing his ability to function with each day of his absence.

It’s madness, really.

His entire life, it has been just himself and the Keep, but suddenly now that Amaryllis and Damien have insinuated themselves into his life and his heart and his bed, he has become terrifyingly reliant on them. He is furious with Amaryllis about it as well, because she seems to be handling the lack of their knight with substantially more grace than Arum is.

“Hey,” she says as she strokes his arm soothingly, as she kisses the scales beside his frill. “It’s alright, Arum. I’ve just had a lot more practice, worrying about Damien while he’s gone. Of course you want him back. Missing him is nothing to be ashamed of.”

He scoffs, of course. He’s not ashamed, not of this and not of anything. What Arum is, is irritated. He is irritated with Amaryllis, for being so earnest and understanding about the whole thing (he clings to her in bed when she stays the night, and he knows she is as acutely aware of the empty space in their bed as he is). He is irritated with himself for his new and unwelcome weaknesses (like a missing limb, Damien being gone, like his mind is a fuzzy and unwelcome place). He is irritated with Damien himself (a vague mental litany, oscillating between how dare you leave and please come back). He is irritated with the knights that are so ungratefully lucky to share their time with Damien in his absence. He is irritated, he finds, with everyone and everything involved in keeping Arum away from his poet.

“Saints above, just go to him then if you’re so torn up about it,” Amaryllis says a few days later, and behind the exasperation in her tone there is a worry that rankles. The idea of it, though, of seeing Damien early- the very idea sets his heart racing, and he can tell that Amaryllis sees it in his eyes. “According to his letters he’ll be passing pretty close to the western edge of the swamp over the next day or so,” she says. “Just- go and see him before you drive me crazy right along with you.”

“I-” he scoffs. Again. “I am perfectly fine, Amaryllis. I do not need to be coddled or- I do not need to see him.”

“I know,” Amaryllis says with a sigh, and then she lifts a hand to cup his cheek. “But I know that you want to. I get it, Arum, I really do. When we started seeing each other, the first time he left to go on a longer mission, I didn’t even know that I could miss a person like that. Just- promise me if you do go see him, you’ll be careful? Last thing we would need is for one of his little traveling buddies to spot you sneaking around their camp, you know?”

Arum doesn’t even know what part of that to be most offended by, which he later suspects is intentional misdirection on the part of the herbalist, but when she affectionately pats his cheek and departs through a portal back to her hut for her next appointment, Arum can’t stop thinking about the possibility.

Can’t stop thinking about seeing Damien, holding Damien. When he tries to do some work in the greenhouse he drops an entire tray of tools at the unbidden memory of Damien’s dexterous fingers, twirling an arrow before he notches it. He snarls at the Keep when it asks if he is feeling ill, then quickly, quietly apologizes. Obviously he is in no state to work, which has begun to feel more demoralizing than infuriating.

By the time Amaryllis returns to join him for dinner, he relents, defeated, and over their meal she helps him work out the most likely spot for him to potentially intercept their knight. Arum wants to bring her along as well (he does not simply wish to trade which of his lovers he is missing, he wants to have them both, they belong in his arms-), but she shakes her head.

“Maybe you can sneak into a camp of sleeping knights without any issues, Arum, but I don’t exactly have your stealth. You go,” she says, and kisses him on the cheek. “Tell him I miss him and he’d better hurry up. Have fun,” she says with a sly grin, “and be careful.”

And Arum grumbles, and clings even more tightly to her for a long, quiet stretch before the sun goes down, but as soon as it is properly dark he nuzzles a lingering goodbye into her hair and then portals to the westernmost reach of his land.

It doesn’t take more than a few hours to find evidence of them – humans are not adept at crossing the wilderness without leaving a rather obvious trail – and then perhaps an hour more to follow that trail to its conclusion.

The knights are all sleeping in small, individual tents arranged around a central campfire which has already burned down to the dimmest embers, which is rather convenient as far as Arum is concerned. There is a knight he does not know standing watch, but Arum slips past easily with a combination of subtle camouflage and cunning, and it only takes a moment of scenting the air to find the only tent he cares about.

(Arum feels a senseless pulse of fury with the watchman; a monster with half his skill and none of his affection could slip past in the night, endangering his honeysuckle, and that possibility is utterly unacceptable-)

It is too dark for human vision inside Damien’s tent, but Arum is beyond those sorts of limitations. He can see the sleeping form of his knight easily, and he looks smaller without his armor on, looks vulnerable curled alone in a thin bedroll on the uneven ground, and Arum has the hot urge to scoop him up and simply use his emergency packet of swamp dirt to ferry the both of them back home right this instant, to put Damien back exactly where he belongs, in Arum’s bed between himself and their herbalist.

He takes a breath, putting a stopper to his more unreasonable urges, and then he slinks closer.

Damien is a trained and skillful knight, of course, and Damien is also, in a word, vocal, so the first thing Arum does when he is close enough is to very, very gently place one of his palms over Damien’s mouth, running a second hand soothingly through his hair and hissing in a shushing way as Damien’s eyes flutter open in the dark, as his body jolts underneath Arum’s own.

“Only me, honeysuckle,” Arum says in his lowest whisper, close against Damien’s ear, and the knight relaxes so instantly that Arum fears for a moment that he has somehow fallen right back to sleep. Damien lifts his hands, though, pressing his palms against Arum’s chest as if he’s checking that the lizard is actually real. “I hope you will forgive me for waking you,” Arum hisses, uncovering Damien’s mouth now that he’s sure Damien is not going to shout.

“What are you doing here?” Damien whispers, words tumbling together in his haste. “How-”

“You have been gone entirely too long, honeysuckle. I wanted-” Arum starts, but almost every way that he could end that sentence is actually too embarrassing to stand. “I wanted- you,” he settles on eventually, and Arum is close enough that he can feel the way Damien’s breathing shifts deeper.

“I… this is like a dream, Lord Arum,” Damien whispers, joy and desire balancing perfectly on his tongue as his hands drift across Arum’s shoulders. “Each night out here, each night alone, each night has been spent wanting you, wanting Rilla, wanting the both of you together, dreaming of your touch and then waking alone, and to dream your touch and then to realize that it is no dream at all-”

Arum purrs low, Damien’s words working their usual obscene magic on his body, making his own heart race, and he has missed this, he has missed this foolish little creature so absurdly much. He flicks his tongue out to run up the delicious column of Damien’s throat, his hands in Damien’s hair, on his shoulders, pulling the bedroll down. “No dream, honeysuckle,” he breathes. “I… I thought that perhaps you could do with a reminder of what is waiting for you at home, when you complete your little errand out here.” He scrapes his teeth gently back down Damien’s neck, over his shoulder. “I thought I should give you a taste of what you have surely been missing, while I have this chance, while you were close enough to reach.”

“A taste,” Damien repeats breathlessly. “Oh Saints, oh Saints I have been dreaming of a taste nearly every night, my lily-”

“Then allow me to indulge you,” Arum says softly, his hands working quickly and efficiently to pull away the fabric of blankets, the fabric of clothing which separate their bodies, baring Damien's skin and his own scales in the safety of the dark. “Though, you must promise me that you will try to keep control of that tongue of yours as you take that taste. I believe this is what one might call a tryst, honeysuckle, and I do not think that either of us would appreciate interruption by any particularly sharp-eared cohorts of yours.”

Damien’s eyes widen, and Arum suspects that the knight is only now remembering his surroundings in earnest, as surprised as he is with this nighttime visit.

“O-of course,” he pants, and Arum grins in the dark before he slithers his body down.

“Good,” he hisses. “I think, however, that I will take my taste before I give you yours.”

Predictably, Damien makes a soft noise when one of Arum’s hands presses down on his hip and his tongue flicks a tickling line down his stomach, but Damien slaps a hand over his own mouth just in time to muffle the gasp he gives as another of Arum’s hands impatiently finds his hardening cock. He gives Damien a few slow, soft strokes to start, drinking in the way that he trembles and jerks his hips up towards Arum’s touch. This- this is how Damien should be, reveling in joy and touch, utterly spoiled by the caresses of his lovers, appreciated and adored.

Arum moves his hand faster, purring low and entirely out of his own control, and he watches Damien near-silently writhe beneath him.

Damien’s heartbeat- Damien’s heat-

He still and forever fills Arum with an urgent, desperate sort of hunger.

Arum loosens his grip, wrapping his thumb and two fingers around the base of Damien’s cock so that when he slips his tongue out he can twine it around the rest of his length. Damien muffles the noises he can’t help but make, the joyous-overwhelmed gasp that Arum is gleefully familiar with by now, and Arum chuckles, low enough not to be heard but just enough that he knows Damien will feel it.

As his tongue works, twisting and squeezing and flicking, his free hands are quietly busy as well, uncorking the small vial of oil he had the foresight to bring and slicking his fingers (on one of the hands he keeps with claws blunted and softened, just for this, just for giving pleasure to his fragile humans), before he slips them teasingly up the inside of Damien’s thighs.

“Arum,” Damien whispers through his fingers, and his other hand reaches clumsily down through the darkness until he can caress Arum’s face, until he can run his palm up over one of Arum’s horns and grip there, not pushing or pulling Arum where he wants him, but merely scrabbling for purchase as Arum plies and pleasures him. Arum growls low and careful, squeezing his tongue around Damien’s length in a rippling wave, and then he presses a slick finger slowly up and in.

Damien holds his breath rather than whine, and Arum pauses, waits for Damien to relax around him and catch his breath before he moves his hand again. He unwinds his tongue from around Damien’s cock, letting the hand around its base resume its previous determined stroke as he lifts himself to better watch Damien’s reactions as he slowly twists his finger, slowly pumps it in and out.

Careful, careful. Arum is… particularly careful, this night. Particularly attentive, particularly focused. It has been too long since he has been allowed this, and he wants to indulge himself- but more than that, Arum wants very dearly to indulge Damien. To give the poet as much satisfaction as possible, to pleasure him as thoroughly as he is able. He moves his fingers with care, taking his time, treating the poet to the kinds of touches Arum knows he will most enjoy and ensuring that he is more than ready, that he is nearly coming apart with desire before Arum allows a second finger to join the first.

Damien is painfully beautiful. Shatteringly beautiful, like this. Alight from the inside out with rapturous joy, with his strange soft hair falling over his forehead, with his strong, lean musculature tensing and his entire body near-glowing with heat. Arum feels lucky, feels greedy, feels like all his foolishness and yearning in the last few weeks were entirely justified for the sake of this gorgeous, loving creature coming apart beneath him now.

Arum has a hand in Damien’s hair, another carefully circling his nipple with a claw, a third working his cock and the fourth plying him open, every touch focused and just barely skirting the edge of teasing, and only when Damien can barely keep from letting his tiny, torturous noises grow beyond his control, only when he scrabbles his hands desperately on Arum’s sides, clutching and pulling and whispering please please please, only then does Arum oblige him with a third finger.

“If only you could see yourself, honeysuckle,” he murmurs against Damien’s ear, and Damien pants hard and presses his face into Arum’s neck, burying a quiet whine in Arum’s frill. “Oh, the poetry you could compose, if you could see the way you come undone-”

“If I c-could only see you,” Damien mutters in response, his hands clutching tight to Arum’s back as he tries to press himself down harder onto Arum’s fingers, and his voice wavers almost too high when he continues, “a thousand times curse the darkness for keeping your beauty from me tonight, for keeping me from drinking in every single detail of this impossible encounter, for hiding your eyes from me-”

“Shhhhhh,” Arum warns gently, then flicks his tongue quick over Damien’s lips. “I know, dearest creature. When you return home, you may take every single detail from me, you may take me in plain sunlight if you so desire, and you may tell me every single comparison to my eyes and scales and claws you plan to weave into your works, and I even promise not to complain because I will be too spoiled to have you safe and home in my arms again.” Arum pauses long enough to press his mouth against Damien’s, only an almost-kiss until Damien kisses back, until he gasps lightly and dances the tip of his tongue along the sharp edges of Arum’s teeth. “But for now we must be careful, honeysuckle, and quiet.”

Damien nods, panting against Arum’s mouth, and when he whispers, “Sorry,” it comes out nearly soundless.

“No apologies.” Arum nips at Damien’s lip, playful. “I would make you scream for me, honeysuckle, if I could. You know that I would.”

“I know,” Damien whispers, and Arum can feel the pleased heat in his cheeks so he nuzzles against them.

Arum’s hands slow during that exchange, but he still pleasures his poet as they speak their hushed words, and now he twists his fingers inside Damien, watches and feels him squirm underneath him. “So tempting…” he murmurs. “So delicious you look…”

“Please,” Damien hisses, writhing, trying to press the fingers deeper, trying to press his cock into Arum’s hand more effectively. “Please, my lily, I feel as if you are taking me apart- the most blissful torture but torture nonetheless, please, please-”

“You know as well, honeysuckle,” Arum growls, low and slow, “that I can never deny you anything, especially not when you ask so prettily.”

He keeps his grip on Damien’s cock as he slips his fingers away, as he properly slicks the lower of his own two cocks and then lifts Damien’s legs until the angle is just right, until he can line himself up and press forward.

Damien quietly keens as Arum slowly, slowly fills him, heat coiling low in his stomach at how easily the poet takes him, at how eagerly he presses his hips up to meet Arum’s first thrust. He pauses there for a moment, ensuring that Damien is ready, waiting for Damien to give a breathless eager whine before he starts to fuck him in earnest.

He wraps his hand around Damien’s throat. He does not squeeze- he only holds him like that, another layer to the way he is pinning Damien against the ground, feeling Damien’s heart thudding against his fingertips, feeling the vibration of all the tiny noises Damien is holding in as Arum fucks him slow and thorough. One hand tangling in the bedroll beneath him, one hand clutching Arum’s shoulder for purchase, Damien bites his lip hard and doesn’t even seem to notice that his helpless whines are growing lewder and louder with each thrust, and Arum’s heart feels hot with affection but clearly they cannot risk-

“Hush, shhhhh little honeysuckle,” Arum hisses low, pressing a hand over Damien’s mouth gently but firmly to muffle the noise, and Damien rolls his entire body up into Arum, shivering, and Arum blinks in surprise because- he is quite familiar with that reaction from his poet.

“Arum,” Damien gasps into his palm, and Arum feels the vibration of it more than he actually hears the word.

“You… you enjoy that, honeysuckle?” Arum whispers, both teasing and pleased all at once as he rocks fervently, steadily into Damien, holding Damien’s noises carefully back. “You enjoy that I must keep you quiet? You know that I adore every single skill of your tongue, of course, and it pains me that I cannot bask in your noises. I have missed them, missed pulling such sweet song from your lips.” His own lips he keeps close against Damien’s ear, and he flicks his tongue over the seashell curve of it as he pauses to hiss. “Of course, in my greed for you I never paused to consider- do you enjoy being denied, honeysuckle?”

Damien squeezes his eyes shut, panting hard, and nods so slightly that Arum would not have noticed it if he couldn’t feel it through his hand upon him.

“Ahh,” Arum hisses, slips a hand into Damien’s hair, cupping the back of his head and licking up his neck. “You delightful creature… I will indulge you in anything you desire, honeysuckle. I will indulge you even in denial, if it pleases you-”

Damien whispers against his palm, a near-silent litany that Arum takes a long moment to recognize as a repeated murmur, echoing love love love love into his scales, and then Arum has to focus beyond the unceasing rhythm of his hips on burying the helpless growl he wants to make in response.

Damien taps Arum’s side, a small signal but one that Arum quickly responds to, slowing his thrusts and lifting his hand away from his mouth immediately.

“Arum,” Damien breathes, and then bites his lip for a moment, humming low and clinging tighter. “I- I want…”

He trails off entirely and Arum slows further, more rocking them together than thrusting anymore. He scrapes his claws through Damien’s hair again, flicking his tongue out to tease Damien’s neck, then up by his ear. “Whatever you desire,” he says again, low and sure and hungry. Anything Damien wants he would give, anything to make his honeysuckle happy, to keep himself bright and beloved in the poet’s memory, Arum would do anything. “I will give you whatever you desire, if you only ask-”

“Mark me,” Damien chokes, half-swallowing the words, and even in this darkness Arum can see his face darken further, can feel even more heat rushing to fill his cheeks. “I want you to- to mark me.”

Arum blinks, his fingers still caught in the softness of the poet’s hair, his movements still slow and careful. “Honeysuckle?”

“I still feel within a dream, my lily,” Damien murmurs, his own hands caressing up and down Arum’s back. “I fear I will wake and I will be convinced that I imagined you in the depth of my homesickness, my heartsickness. I want- I want proof I can carry with me. I want your teeth upon me,” he says, and Arum’s breath catches sharp. “I want to feel you, I want to feel you still tomorrow. I want the echoes of your touch upon me when you are gone, I want to feel this,” he rocks his hips, meeting Arum’s movements, and Arum has to clench his teeth to keep from growling his overwhelmed pleasure, “I want to feel you for as long as I am able. If you- If you put your teeth to my shoulder, if you bite me there, only I will know-”

“Honeysuckle,” Arum repeats, a shiver running through his body from his horns to his tail.

“It will be hidden by my armor, but I will know,” Damien whispers, and presses his lips against Arum’s neck. “If you leave a mark. It will be proof to remind me, to remind me that you love me, that you gave this pleasure to me, that you wanted me enough to claim me-”

Arum can’t help the way his body responds to that, thrusting deeper into Damien’s heat with a low, controlled purr. “I want you always, Damien,” he murmurs, and then he drags his teeth lightly, so lightly over the skin of Damien’s shoulder. Damien gasps, clasps a hand over his own mouth again as Arum’s teeth tease at his collarbone, as the monster rolls his hips with more purpose. “I want you enough that it makes me foolish, makes me take ridiculous risks, makes me come for you like this, like a thief in the night-”

“A thief,” Damien hisses through his fingers, and then his voice takes on a familiar, lilting, sing-song cadence, though he keeps his volume careful-low. “O come you now to thieve my heart, you beast of fae-wild night?”

Unfair tactics, Arum thinks as his body shudders at Damien’s voice, and then he slips a hand down between their bodies so he can wrap it around Damien’s cock again, stroking in careful time to his thrusts, making Damien’s breath come as ragged as his own between his rhythmic words.

“All craft and guile undone, in vain, your questing overdue,” he gasps. “Within your garden blooms my heart, ‘neath silver stars alight, an off’ring free, my fruit and tree, my monstrous love, for you-”

Arum clenches his teeth, hisses through them, and then he buries his unoccupied hands in Damien’s hair, tilting his head to the side so he can better lick and nip at his throat, so he can drag his teeth with careful promise over the crook of Damien’s neck, over his bare, strong shoulder. “That- clever- tongue- of yours,” he grits out between helpless thrusts, “will be the death of me.” He lets his hands roam as he nuzzles Damien’s throat, as the poet throws his head back and bites his lip to keep the noises in.

“Please,” Damien whispers, reaching out in the darkness, and Arum has no choice but to reach back, tangling their fingers together as Damien rolls his hips, pushing Arum deeper. “My lily, my lily, please-”

Arum growls, burying his face in the crook of Damien’s neck and panting there as Damien provokes him to move faster. “Honeysuckle,” he purrs, “you know I can deny you nothing.”

“Your teeth, Lord Arum.” Damien clings, writhes, tries to press Arum’s snout towards his shoulder. “Please, please-”

“Shhhhh,” Arum soothes, pressing his hand over Damien’s mouth again, gently. He knows the poet too well to do anything else. “Patience, my honeysuckle,” he says, soft with his mouth against Damien’s collarbone. He adjusts his grip, lifting Damien’s hips so he can more easily speed his movements. Arum loosens the careful control he’s been keeping on his pace, reveling in the tiny choked-off noises Damien gasps into his hand as he fucks him harder, fucks him more urgently.

He can feel Damien’s lips moving against his palm, can hear the barest edge of his pleas and quiet cries, but he keeps his teeth light and teasing on Damien’s skin, delays that gratification to instead focus on drawing out every bit of pleasure he can with his thrusts, with his hand around Damien’s cock. Delays, until he can feel Damien trembling beneath and around him, until he can feel Damien start to come apart, overwhelmed tears pooling at the corners of his eyes as they press closed in the darkness.

Then, Arum bites down.

Careful, even in this- his teeth are less sharp than his claws but still he has no wish to draw blood, he only means to give the poet what he asks for, clamping his jaws down over his shoulder with just enough pressure to bruise. The hand he has pressed over Damien’s mouth only barely manages to muffle his cry of mingling pleasure and pain, and it is enough, it is just enough-

Damien comes with a gasp, and Arum holds him, holds him, slows and deepens his thrusts as Damien squeezes around him and spills hot over Arum’s hand and both of their stomachs, and that is just enough as well, the victory of bringing his honeysuckle to the heights of pleasure, and Arum pulls his teeth away from Damien’s delicate skin so that when he finds his own release he can clench them together without worry as he rolls his hips helplessly and comes inside his poet, comes onto his stomach with a muffled hiss.

After a long, panting moment Damien draws on some reserve of strength that baffles Arum and lifts his head, kissing along the line of Arum’s mouth with unselfconscious adoration, and Arum nuzzles back in kind, buffeting their foreheads together and purring his satisfaction as he pulls his hips back slowly, slipping from his lover before they grow uncomfortable.

Arum fishes out a cloth from his cast-aside cloak, cleaning the both of them off with gentle attention and then resettling the blankets around them, curling close and soft and satisfied around his poet.

“You do not know how viciously I wish to carry you off home with me right this instant, honeysuckle,” Arum sighs into Damien’s neck, clinging tight to his warm, pliant body as both of their heartbeats slow. “How terribly I want to spirit you away and keep you in my clutches, to bring you to where you belong, to kidnap you back to the Keep and drop you triumphantly into Amaryllis’ arms…”

“I imagine that you desire it precisely as desperately as I do, my love,” Damien whispers, nuzzling Arum’s cheek with his own, exhaling deeply. He lifts a hand, then, and brushes it over the vivid purpling arc on his shoulder with a distinct look of pleasure, of satisfaction.

Arum feels, just a little, as if his heart is trying to climb up his windpipe.

“Damien,” he whispers, and then he leans down to lick his tongue over the mark, feather-light and soothing. “Perhaps… perhaps I shouldn’t have-”

“Thank you,” Damien interrupts, and then he kisses the corner of Arum’s mouth and comes away smiling. “Not even my unsteady mind could ignore such bold, lingering proof of your affection.”

Arum swallows roughly, then flicks his tongue up Damien’s cheek with fond affection. “Hate having to miss you, honeysuckle,” he admits in a whisper, clinging as if he wishes to pull Damien into himself, as if they could possibly be any closer. “Love you too fiercely to be without you.”

Damien makes a small, pained noise, cupping Arum’s face in his hands and kissing him again, kissing him soft, sweet, like petals and rain. “Oh, my lovely lily,” he says, and Arum can hear the tears he his trying not to shed. “I love you so much. So much that it breaks my heart to be without you, without Rilla…”

“She asked that I pass along that she wishes for you to hasten your quest and hurry home,” Arum mutters, “as, of course, do I.”

Damien sighs. “I know. I intend to be home as soon as I am able, as soon as the Saints allow.”

Arum shifts, and Damien- Damien makes another small noise, clinging tightly, and Arum hears his heart stutter fast for a moment.

He blinks, and drapes himself back over the entirety of Damien’s body indulgently. “Not going anywhere just yet, honeysuckle.”

“I… I am perfectly aware that I cannot keep you here forever, my lily.”

Arum growls lightly. “Nnnno,” he admits, “not forever, not that, of course. But I can stay a little longer, yet.” He buffets his cheek against Damien��s, nuzzling closer, closer. “I can stay until you are asleep again, at least. Until you are dreaming, until I can leave you safe in slumber.”

Damien kisses him, kisses him, cups Arum’s face in his hands, kisses him. “Soon, soon I shall return to the both of you, with new tales and triumph. Soon shall we have our homecoming, earned and exultant, and then I will give to the both of you every single word I have had to carry with me during our separation, every kiss I have wished to press to your lips, every pleasure I have dreamed of spoiling you with… soon, my lily. Soon.”

Damien’s singsong cadence is almost too soothing, and Arum feels as if he could outright melt into Damien’s arms. He sighs, flicks his tongue out to tickle Damien’s jaw, drifts his claws softly up and down Damien’s arms. “It will not be soon enough, honeysuckle. I am an impatient creature. But for you…” his words falter, and he brushes some errant curls away from Damien’s brow. “For you, I will wait.” He pauses. “Impatiently, of course.”

“With an abundance of complaints,” Damien says with a soft laugh, and kisses Arum’s nose.

“Needless to say,” Arum growls, and then he gives a wry sort of smile. “But I have taken enough rest from you already, my poet. No more teasing, now. Return to sleep. I will hold you until you are safe in slumber, and when morning comes…” he drifts his claws careful over the purpling arc on Damien’s skin, “you can carry me with you, until you can return to us in fact and not just in dream and memory.”

Damien purses his lips, expression gone yearning and wild for a brief moment before he nods, lifting one of Arum’s hands to kiss his knuckles, pressing them against his cheek with a sigh. “I love you so dearly, my Arum,” he murmurs.

In this moment, quiet and dark, Arum even feels like he might deserve that.

“I love you, Damien,” he answers, voice rough. “Now sleep, little honeysuckle, and I will watch over you.”

After a few more kisses, (three or four, nine or ten, impossible to say because neither of them count), Damien drifts, his breaths evening out, his heart beating slow and gentle, and Arum holds him close and safe.

And with the poet asleep, no one has to know exactly how long it takes before Arum can bear to tear himself away.

[damienthepious]

it’s still tuesday here for THREE MORE HOURS i didn’t heckin miss it i made it

Like Whispering

[ao3]

[Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast

Relationship: Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla

Characters: Rilla, Lord Arum, Sir Damien

Additional Tags:  Fluff without Plot, Literal Sleeping Together, Sleepy Cuddles,  (basically just a deep dive into monster anatomy), (and Rilla's incessant hunger to understand things), (i'll be real with you this one is weird), (but i like the ending and i need something to post for the IMPORTANT DAY), Lizard Kissin' Tuesday, (i hope y'all care to hang with me while i unpack a buncha headcanons about Arum's body!!!!)

Summary:  Rilla examines the fascinating landscape of her monstrous lover while he sleeps.

Notes: I don't even know anymore fam I hope SOMEONE besides me enjoys this at least. There is at least one Lizard Kiss this time, thank the Saints. Rated T for implications of sex in the past. Title take from the song 3 Rounds and a Sound by Blind Pilot. ]

Rilla will never stop being fascinated by Arum.

He sleeps beside her, between she and Damien, and even that is a thousand page treatise on the concept of trust that she wants to memorize front to back. When he sleeps alone he curls into a ball, tail wrapped around himself like a cat, but in the bed they share he is more apt to sprawl, hand and hand and hand and hand reaching out until they can find a soft source of warmth, until he can pull his lovers close against him and curl around them instead.

It’s easier to really learn him, in sleep. He tends to get irritable with her if she stares at him too long in the daylight. Which is fair, Rilla reasons. Analyzing the bone structure of your monster is a process that requires more direct observation than anyone would reasonably call polite… but Rilla can’t help herself.

Arum’s body is like a puzzle in some ways. Like four or five puzzles piled up together, actually. She’s been taking notes about the subject in longhand, in code, because she doesn’t think he’d appreciate her trying to categorize him so thoroughly- but it isn’t even about the science, anymore. The inhumanity of him, the irrationality; it draws her in. Curiosity has always been Rilla’s weakness, and Lord Arum is a curious creature indeed.

She wants to know him. Every part of him.

She can’t decide, yet, how to organize her observations; mostly she tries to take him part by part, layer by riveting layer.

She has pages dedicated to his eyes. The first thing she learned about him, really, was that he could see better in the dark than a human, and his eyes only got more interesting from there. Diamond-shaped pupils blow out wide in the dark or with arousal, or narrow into thin, dangerous slits when he’s focused. Irises, bright violet. Bright like actual violets, saturated and bold with narrow flecks of a darker shade arranged around the pupil in a subtle starburst. She and Damien must be the only creatures alive who have gotten close enough to see those flecks of plum among the violet, the only people he would trust enough to let that close. He lets them close enough to see, and then he allows his eyes to close regardless, a set of nictitating membranes sliding horizontally over the purple before his proper eyelids close as well.

Another fascinating layer, those membranes. They’re translucent but fogged gray, waterproof, protective; she’s noticed them slipping closed without the outer lids when he’s startled, or when he happens to go out in the rain [a note on his clothing in the rain: it is waterproof as well, though whether that is through magic or the skill of monsters’ weave is impossible to determine, and when she asks for clarification Arum dismisses the question in so particular a way that she is unsure which possibility is more likely]. It’s a useful trait, one that Rilla appreciates because it’s another layer of protection for those unique, beautiful eyes.

She can’t take more notes on his eyes in sleep, though. Instead, she ghosts her hands over his scales, over the subtle patterned expanse of his back as he snores gently into Damien’s hair.

The long, elegant curve of his spine is crested with a subtle ridge of raised scales, like spines or horns, nearly an inch long at the base of his skull and down between his shoulders, and barely higher than the bumps of the rest of his scales lower down [the first time Rilla runs her fingertips along the ridge Arum snaps his teeth in the air, hissing through them in surprise and delight, and Rilla smiles, then repeats the gesture]. Aside from some mild sensitivity, they seem primarily cosmetic, and Rilla can’t place what specific creature the trait is stolen from.

The entire expanse of his scales gleams magnificently, even in the low light of the nighttime Keep. He’s mottled in vibrant dark green and in black, with speckles of gold dotting down his front. The scales themselves are small and near as thick as light armor on his back, on the outsides of his arms, along the top of his tail, and in bigger, softer, smoother plates down his neck, his stomach, underneath his arms, between his legs. He is textured, cool, everywhere she can lay her hands [she has made a point to lay her hands nearly everywhere, by now].

The second pair of arms is completely unnatural relative to any nonmagical reptilian, and they should be completely incongruous with the rest of his frame, but his body fits together with infuriating ease. Arum’s torso is slightly longer than it would otherwise be to make room for the second set of pectorals that the extra arms necessitate [when he stretches in the morning his musculature ripples beneath his scales like the billow of steam, and Rilla could easily spend the rest of her life cataloging every configuration of angles at which his arms could be arranged atop the pillows of their shared bed], and his musculature there is lean but shockingly strong.

The pads of his fingers are textured with hair-thin ridges that help him stick to walls and ceilings when he scurries along at his shocking speed, similar to those of a gecko [Her list of creatures that Arum has traits in common with is absurdly long, and longer when she includes her speculations on his internal anatomy], and the same is true of his toes. His claws on all four limbs are dangerously sharp [more recently, he files down the claws on his lower pair of hands enough to dull them, complaining bitterly about the fragility of humans in general, but the first time he can reach out for the two of them, touch them without fear of causing harm, his expression falls to something raw and earnest and tender] [the claws on his upper hands remain sharp, and there is a certain thrill that comes with their careful touch as well].

His legs are powerful, long, a zig-zag of artful curves. He walks on his toes when he’s upright, his heels in the air and adding to his already impressive height, but he can turn his ankles oddly when he drops to all six limbs, slithering viper-quick whether he is crossing the floor or climbing a tree or wall or ceiling.

Arum’s tail is primarily meant for balance, and it’s not quite so deft as to be entirely prehensile, but he has enough control that he can grip a small object with it or curl it around something solid to stabilize himself [he is equally likely to curl it around either of his humans to pull them closer unexpectedly, to add an extra layer to an embrace].

[Rilla has an entirely separate mental space for notes on Arum’s sexual anatomy; that research is currently ongoing]

Arum’s teeth are [she mentally places a line between her more clinical observations and those that belong in the previous category] gorgeous, knife-sharp, terrifying, with long vicious incisors and jagged molars. Insectivore teeth, meant for piercing and crushing exoskeletons, and they flash bright behind his thin lips when when he snarls or speaks or laughs.

There is a crescent of little divots above those lips, the labial pits he uses to sense heat; a snake trait among the more dominant lizard features. In the scatter of her notes she has them sorted into the category of particularly anomalous with his extra arms and his frill.

His frill: infuriatingly out of place [speaking only for the purposes of classification: in the social sense, Rilla is only ever grateful for the fragile, expressive webbing that flares around Arum’s head in surprise and embarrassment and indignation, because it’s one of the easiest ways to tell what he’s feeling, besides his tone of voice]. It bears only passing similarity to the same feature on nonmagical frilled lizards; it drapes along the sides of his head when at rest instead of folding at his neck, it’s smaller relative to the size of his head, and the folds revealed when it flares are colored in bright patches of bluish-green and gold-

“Amaryllis.”

For half a moment she thinks that he’s murmuring in his sleep, which would be an interesting first, but then one of his eyes slits open and fixes her with a violet glare.

“I could feel you staring even in the depths of sleep, Amaryllis,” he mutters, voice thick and growling. “What, precisely, is causing you to think so furiously at this time of night?”

His irises are wide black diamonds in the mellow dark, his long tongue flicks absently to scent the air, his chest rumbles with each breath he takes, and every piecemeal part of him fits together in an impossible harmony, every edge that by rights should be jagged instead slides smooth. Rilla knows she’ll never unravel the entire tapestry of Arum, and that knowledge fills her with the thrill of challenge, with breathless awe, with overflowing love.

“You,” she says after a pause, hoping the enormity of her feelings doesn’t bleed too much into her voice. When he goes startle-still, she leans down to press a kiss to his cheek, where she knows he can feel the tickle of her warm-blooded heat. She doesn’t pull away then, sighing against the texture of his scales and pressing her hand to feel the slow drum of his heart in his chest. “Just thinking how damn stunning you looked all wrapped up with Damien.”

Rilla isn’t Damien, and she can’t make the tangle of science and wonder and connection in her mind sing as prose, or verse. Her coded pages read exactly like her field notes: pointed, unadorned, though admittedly a bit more biased. Arum knows her, though. He knows the deeper context around her flippancy, the way she uses informality as a source of comfort.

He breathes a laugh and it tickles Rilla’s ear, and he nuzzles his face against her own. “I would love to pay your flattery back in kind, Amaryllis, but if we wake the little knight now he’ll be utterly useless in the morning,” he grumbles, letting his eyes slip closed again as he pulls her closer.

“Sweet of you to worry about tiring him out,” she replies in a teasing whisper. He growls at the implication that his worry is unselfish, and Rilla’s mind flies off again. The entirety of Arum’s vocal system is a wild mystery, how he can duplicate human language with such an incompatible tongue and lips, and that isn’t even getting into the mystery of how he makes those rattling noises, those growls, those purrs. As far as Rilla is aware, purring is not a typical trait in a lizard, so she can’t even begin to speculate what animal instrument is hiding in the hollow of his throat.

“You are thinking again,” he hisses through a sigh, smiling with his eyes closed and letting his claws drift gently up and down her bicep. “I can hear your mind churning when you go still like that.”

“Sorry,” she says wryly, pressing another kiss to his neck.

“No apologies, my Amaryllis, but you need your rest as well as he does.”

Arum tends to save his pet names for Damien (Rilla suspects this is because they have a much more profound effect on the knight than they would on herself), but it does send a giddy little thrill through her when he slips enough to call her his. “I know, I know,” she says. “I’ll get to hibernating or whatever.”

He chuckles low again, his fingers tracing soft soothing circles on her arm, on her back, his breath lifting his chest beneath her palm, and the combined rhythms are nearly hypnotic. “Would it-” he pauses, and she can feel the hesitation drift through him and then dissolve like parchment in water. It’s easier for him to let himself be soft like this, in warmth, tangled up together in the dark. He hums above her and asks, “Would it help if I sang for you?”

Rilla will never stop being fascinated by Arum, and she’ll never stop being surprised by him either.

She nods against his shoulder, because she thinks her voice will either crack with laughter or too much feeling if she tries to talk, and Arum presses his mouth in an almost-kiss against her hair before he starts to sing. He sings close and quiet against her skin, his voice rough and low and inhuman, and Rilla smiles against his scales as it works in concert with the movement of his hands. It's soothing, stable, perfect.

There is comfort in a curiosity that cannot be answered, Rilla thinks as she drifts. Stability in a mystery that can unfold and unfold and never reveal a conclusion. Rilla has always preferred answers to questions, but Arum-

Arum is a question she intends to ponder for the rest of her life.