#the ruffles and fabric rendering are out of this world

[flipperbrain-awakes]

The Warleggan Ball by flipperbrain-awakes

Ross leans against a wall in the large room and contemplates the tumbler of brandy in his hand. George does not skimp, this amber liquid is quite good. Ross is well acquainted with fine brandy, risking much himself to import the best available through less than legal means. He scans the room, it is between dances and most of the guests are clustered together in groups, engaged in flattery and idle conversation. He had quarreled with his wife an hour ago, he knew his surly attitude and lack of attention had angered Demelza, and he could certainly understand why. Yet at that moment he was incapable of bending, of admitting he was wrong. And rather than making it up with her, he continued playing cards. His grief and outrage over the disgusting treatment of his friend Jim Carter, which ultimately led to his untimely death, had rendered him powerless to rise above his mood. But by God, Demelza is the last person to deserve the sharp-edge of his ire, and now he feels incredibly ashamed at his behavior. 

He watches his wife chatting merrily with several solicitous gentlemen across the ballroom, without a doubt she has many would-be suitors were her husband not standing in the way. She glances at him, her eyes still flashing with annoyance and hurt, she is ravishing and haughty and so very tempting. Demelza is wearing a new gown, its fabric selected particularly for this occasion. It is the color of Spring and covered with delicate leaves and stems. Her décolletage is framed with the tiniest diaphanous ruffle which projects the opposite of demure, rather than disguising, it accentuates her bust and she is fully aware of its effect. 

Ross has had enough drink this night, he sets his glass aside and walks over to speak quietly with the leader of the small orchestra assembled in the southern corner of the room, a few coins are discreetly handed over. While likely the poorest of manners to divert the musical program toward his personal goals, he cares not and strides determinedly toward Demelza. She sees him coming and her brows gather in anticipation of protest but Ross does not give her an opportunity to refuse. He takes her by the hand and leads her to the center of the dance floor. Demelza initially resists his embrace, she is still put-out and a little embarrassed by their earlier exchange… but then she turns her head and looks into his eyes and her anger melts away, he can be damnable at times but his feelings for her are written on his face. 

Ross takes her in his arms as the music strikes up and begins to dance a dance that he has only seen once before, he holds his beautiful wife, his hand sitting familiarly at her waist, and leads her in The Walse. The steps are not truly known to him but he believes he can manage a fair representation, he has some skill at dancing though rarely used. The onlookers at the time he first witnessed this exercise were scandalized by the closeness of its participants, and from the expressions on many a face, they are once again. He grins inwardly at this but Demelza’s visage, her fine features gazing up at him, he is nearly overcome with desire. She is his complete focus, the only thing in this world that truly matters. That he could act an idiot and lose sight of that, well, he is an imperfect man.

They are a vision to behold on the ballroom floor, Ross expertly guiding in his version of this dance, Demelza following his lead like a woman who has been trained in this since girlhood. Their bodies move together instinctually as one, gracefully drifting and turning and whirling together. All eyes are upon them, but theirs are only for each other.

[headstrongblake]

[ CAR ] for our muses to have car sex while it rains / grant & o / @thewholecrew

the puttering of the rain against the outside of the car soothes octavia while her head leans atop grant's shoulder with her arm snaked behind his head. fingers mindlessly trace up and down his jawline, dipping down along his neck as her fingers graze against his skin. here all her racing thoughts slow. this was needed and although octavia didn't voice it, she was thankful he'd suggested they come out here after her first narcotics anonymous meeting. it's far enough away from the outside world that for miles it's just them and the rain. for once, it's peaceful.

her head nuzzled against his cheek, breathing him in before she pressed soft kisses there. her kisses begin as a small exploratory for distraction. to extinguish the needling buzz in the back of her mind. but then her head lifted properly while the fingers that grazed along his neck, shifted up to his cheek, directing his face to her. "hey..." she murmured as she captured his lips, leaning into him from the passenger seat.

it's only a matter of time before she's plucked from her seat beside him and instead happily settles herself to straddle his lap. fingers twist in his hair as she feels the warmth of his hands resting on her hips, teasing the bare skin as her shirt separates from the hem of her skirt. eyelashes flutter at the touch, and the warm press of his lips against her neck is a magnetic force drawing her attention. he always does that too easily. one caress from him and the whole world melts away, everything else quiets and grows still. everything except her heart. it quickens at his touch. the pad of his thumbs brushed against her hip bone, tightening against her skin and the rhythm inside her chest changed. the rain outside becomes nothing more than background noise she doesn't hear as heat grows between her thighs.

emerald hues fix on his vibrant gaze and while her movements might be measured reaching down to lower his seat back carefully, there is no concealment of the lust and need coursing through her. teeth sink into his bottom lip earning her those incredible sounds he makes as she gives a gentle tug at the sensitive skin. he's rewarded accordingly by her leaning down to deliver several caresses and biting kisses across his skin. "i need you," she whispered breathlessly into his ear. there is an unparalleled sweetness to indulging a craving. & this one...she's allowed to have and he makes it all the more sweeter to give in.

the way his hands tighten, the fabric of her skirt ruffling as his hands encroached further beneath is indicative that his own patience is wearing just as thin as hers. their combined hunger making her writher against him, moaning another soft, "i need you." lips part slightly and a deep inhale is drawn in as his forehead nodded against hers. her gaze lingers for several attentive moments even after the unspoken permission has been granted while anticipation blooms in her veins. she measures the equal desperation, the energy vibrating out of them both as her fingers trailed down from his hair to the front of his chest. lower and lower until they find the cool button of his pants. octavia soaks in his desire as if it's feeding her. in a way, she supposed it is. she likes being needed. especially now when she's felt so helpless while healing. being desperately needed and desired in such a way that could render grant so eager feels like an even better high. one she'd much rather bask in. perhaps that, more than any physical sensation, is what she finds most pleasurable in these moments. she's wanted.

[hazeldough]

How did you get Haruka’s idol outfit to shine Like That? I can almost feel it under my fingertips and hear the rustling. I know you posted that a long time ago (in Internet time) but its stayed with me.

It was with the love I hold for my beloved daughter 💖

But hee hee some notes on the illust :^) I may have over explained it lol

My main source of reference was from this collection of photographs by kemmiethecat on instagram!

I wanted this dress to be reminiscent of her outfit for So Much More and I combined it with 80s (?) aesthetics to match the aesthetic of film photography. I used the photographs to get an idea of how the sleeves, bodice, and gloves would fit on her. Even though her gown would be white, I wanted to add interest to it and I figured the best way to color and shade it while retaining the look of a white wedding gown was to make the fabric look iridescent/pearlescent. I kinda winged it on the color choices and placement, though…

I chose a pink similar to the background (bc I was going for a teen magazine concept as well and the bright pink made her and the gown stand out), a purple-ish blue for the shadows, and some yellows to transition into the bright whites because I thought the combination would work the best. It’s mostly a vibes-based decision for me, but if we wanted to be technical about it, it’s bc of color theory!

I followed how the values of the fabric from the references and lightly mapped out where the colors would be placed, keeping in mind how it’d be affected by what was closest to it. Admittedly, I kinda wanna go back and make the colors more consistent so that fabric-fabric -> blue, skin-fabric-> pink, highlights from the “flash”-> yellows and whites. But it is what it is! After that, I just blended to what suited the fabric while using the references.

I wanted the gloves to stand out since it’s framing Haruka’s face and considering it’s satin, it’d shine and react more with light and color as opposed to her dress, which is more matte. Because of that, the gloves ended up having more shifts in color compared to the dress and the instances of the bright white appearing front and center combined with the highlights of Haruka’s face all harmonized to give off the feeling of each fabric. The same goes with her veil and the ruffles of her dress, where I added some texture to give off the look of netting you’d see in tulle.

Generally, whenever I make illustrations where the outfit is an important aspect of it, I put extra care into how it’s rendered and constructed. Partly because it tends to be the focal point, but also because I liked watching Project Runway and Say Yes To The Dress in the past, so I have some interest in fashion because of that and it reflects in my art from time to time lol.

I also like to add that while I did have references, I didn’t follow each fold precisely. To me, it’s impossible and not worth copying how the fabric creases and folds exactly so long as I get the general flow of it, like where the creases focus on, how it glides, etc. Same with the color! My personal outlook on using references is that it’s a general outline, not a step by step instruction, if that makes any sense, lol!

In short:

References used -> Pose, Outfit, Values, Color Palette (Somewhat), ✨Aesthetic ✨

Vibes of color! (Color theory)

Contrast of different textures of each fabric in the outfit as well as her skin and hair

My interest in fashion makes me wanna make sure to depict fabrics as best as I can, especially when it’s the focus of the illustration.

I use references when I can, but I don’t stress about it being a perfect match, I focus on it being as best it can to me

It’s also a result of me figuring out what I like and wanna do bc sometimes reality doesn’t look as good and we have to take artistic liberty sometimes! There isn’t a fabric that exists like this in the real world, and the closest are iridescent organza or sequins. Usually there’s green present in it, but I didn’t use it here bc I didn’t feel like it since I usually don’t use greens in my art unless I have to ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ (Sorry, lovers of the color green!!)

I hope that helps? I feel like I definitely overexplained some aspects, but teehee idk I just like talking about color even tho I forgor some of the terms for it LMFAOOO I just think colors are pretty, same with clothes, and my beloved daughter, Haruka ^_^💖

[thebigqueer]

"The Demise of Nico's Rainbow Socks" - Solangelo - One-Shot

Summary: Nico and Will find themselves caught in the rain and can't have the picnic they wanted. This is inspired by the rainy day prompt for @solangeloweek !!

TW: There is some mention of food in here.

Read on AO3

Word Count: 1508

“Will, I absolutely do not think this is a good idea.”

“And why not? I already have everything ready.”

“Which is why you need to pack it all up. It’s literally about to rain.” As if to prove his point, Nico gestures harshly at the gray clouds that threaten the sanctity of the wide blue expanse above. A low thunder rumbles from the mass of gray, and a moist breeze throws both Nico’s and Will’s hair around.

The son of Apollo pouts and gestures to the picnic before him. “But I worked so hard on this. Do you really want all my efforts going to waste?”

Nico raises an eyebrow, and a small smile quivers against his mouth. He crosses his arms. “Did you, by any chance, make these sandwiches, Will?”

A bright grin flashes against Will’s lips. “I did. That’s why it’s a rare treat, since I never cook.”

Despite Nico’s hesitance with settling in, he drops to his knees and watches the food nervously.

“You see,” he says, “that is exactly why I should be afraid. You know how bad you are at cooking. And besides, the rain is going to soak all your hard work. Do you really want that?”

Will huffs and crosses his arms. “The least I could get is a thank you. It’s not like you could do any better.”

Nico laughs and grazes his finger against the sandwich in front of him. There isn’t much here - only two sandwiches, one for Nico and one for Will, and a pack of apple juice boxes. A wicker basket sits comfortably at the far corner of the red-and-white picnic blanket, but Nico doesn’t really know why it was necessary - they could really have just carried all this to the beach. Will’s a natural overachiever, though, which probably explains why he brought it with him.

“Instead of touching it, I think you should actually taste the sandwich,” Will suggests, nodding sarcastically. “Might be a better experience.”

Nico shakes his head. “I don’t really trust anything you make. The last time you tried to barbecue for the camp, almost everyone got sick.” Nico leans in, his eyes peering at Will’s with sincerity. “And I’m telling you, Will, it’s all going to soak through if we don’t leave right now. This thunderstorm doesn’t look merciful.” Then a new smile cracks against Nico’s face and he takes Will’s warm hands into his own, brushing his fingers against the blond’s palms. A softer look takes over Will’s eyes. “Besides, we can take this time to actually learn to cook. I could teach you things I know.”

For a moment, Will almost looks convinced. His eyebrows lower as he considers his options, and his fingers tangle with Nico’s. Then he shakes his head and sighs. “I don’t want to go inside, though,” he murmurs.

Nico frowns and tilts his head, confusion rippling over his face. A hesitant look overwhelms Will’s features and he looks away from his boyfriend, turning his eyes to the rippling blue water underneath.

“Hey,” Nico says, gently brushing his fingers against Will’s cheek. The latter turns his gaze back, but there’s something sadder in there, something desperate. “What’s wrong?”

The son of Apollo offers a gentle, sad chuckle. “It’s not a big deal, Nico. Don’t look so worried.”

“But you look sad.”

“It’s just…” Will sighs. “I don’t know. I feel like we haven’t had an actual moment to ourselves these days, you know? Hades has been on your case for the past few weeks about all these different things, and I guess I’ve been busy getting ready for college. I just miss you. I don’t want to go inside and be around my siblings.”

“Then we don’t have to go to your cabin,” Nico says. “We can shadow-travel back to mine so no one gets suspicious.”

“Yeah, but…” A small smile blooms across Will’s pink lips. “I like the rain. There’s something really intimate about it. And I want to be intimate with you.”

Nico gazes at Will. His blue eyes radiate a warm, loving energy, and his skin glows softly under the clouds. At the sight of his boyfriend’s golden glory, Nico’s heartbeat quickens.

Even in the overwhelming darkness, Will somehow still finds a way to shine.

Another rumble of thunder - this time louder and more insistent - rolls across the camp, and Nico and Will both jump. Silence envelops the two as they wait for the haunting moment to subside.

After a few agonizing moments, Nico lets loose a gentle laugh. “Then we can be alone in my cabin. We can just stand on my porch or something. I don’t want to get soaked like your sandwiches. You know how much I hate wet socks, and I am literally not wearing shoes right now.” As if to prove his point, Nico shifts his leg and showcases a rainbow sock. “Do you see this? I already have sand in it. Do you really think I want to get these fuzzy socks wet?”

A grimace slashes against WIll features. “Okay, yeah. That wouldn’t be fair to you. You’re already going through so much, as I can see.”

Nico nods morosely. “So much.” Then he smiles. “I’ll help you pack, though.”

But just as Nico’s fingers graze against his plate, another round of thunder rumbles throughout camp. Nico and Will snap their gazes back to each other, surprise and anxiety sparking in their eyes. They’re frozen in time, unable to move out of fear that just one act will bring the rains crashing down on them.

Lightning cracks against the darkness. Instead of doing the logical thing, like shoving the sandwiches into the wicker basket, Nico immediately moves his feet underneath himself to protect his socks. Will covers his head with his arms.

“Uh oh,” Nico murmurs.

A beat of silence passes. A gust of wind ruffles through their hair. Then the first drop falls, landing gracefully on Nico’s hand and trailing over his skin. After a few seconds, another bead of water comes down, this one bursting against the picnic blanket. One more catches up, then another, and soon the rain tumbles over the boys, blooming against the fabric of their clothing, breaking against their clear faces as the two of them tilt their heads up to watch the debris of the clouds fall.

Nico and Will look at each other in shock. Silence billows in the space between them, broken only by the loud torrent of rain. Next to them, the drops seep through the sandwiches, rendering them inedible.

Another sound breaks through the rain, and it takes a moment for Nico to realize it’s a laugh. Will’s laugh. A bright grin flashes against his golden features, and he gleams under the dark clouds. His light spills into the dock and saturates Nico’s skin, and a sense of warmth blooms under the latter’s skin. Nico bites his lip as he watches the pure childlike wonder that illuminates Will’s face.

It’s not often that he’s like this. Nico wants to savor this moment.

“It’s raining!” Will exclaims, almost like he can’t believe it. His blue eyes burst with color in the darkness. “This is so cool.”

Nico opens his mouth to speak, but under the loud cracks of thunder and lightning, his voice barely weaves through the raindrops. He huffs and pulls himself closer to Will, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend’s shoulders and leaning his head against his neck.

“Great,” he mutters. “Now we’re wet.”

“How are your socks?”

“Dead. I hate this.”

“We can go inside, if you want. But I’m not sure it’ll do much.”

“No.” Nico tilts his head to face Will, and a smile of his own glimmers against his face. Nico’s dark eyes lock with Will’s blue ones, and they face each other, basking in the intimacy of the torrents. “No, you were right. There is something nice about the rain.”

It’s freeing. It’s liberating. It makes Nico feel like he’s washing away all his sins and mistakes, like he’s starting anew. And in Will’s embrace, he’s finding a new version of himself.

“Yeah?” Will whispers. His own arms wrap around his boyfriend’s waist and he leans his forehead against Nico’s, lending some of his warmth. “I thought so, too.”

Nico presses his fingers against Will’s cheeks and kisses him, stealing some more of his loving energy and comforting heat. They move to the sound of the rain, to the ripple of the water, to the cracking of branches and the rumble of thunder. They move with the nature around them, with the storms above them, with the air through them. They become one with the world encompassing them.

When they break apart, Nico smiles. “Now we need to figure out a way to get through the sand without making my socks more uncomfortable than they already are.”

Will chuckles and presses his head against Nico’s. “I’m sorry about your socks, but I love you.”

Nico tightens his fingers against Will’s sweatshirt, yearning for his warmth. “I love you, too.”

[yanderenightmare]

YANDERE ! SHINSO HITOSHI x FEM ! READER

goodiebag WARNINGS: dubcon/noncon themes, yandere, abuse, profanity, ableism, amnesia, animal abuse, anxiety, kidnapping, abduction, manipulation, mind control, stalking

CURIOSITY KILLED THE CAT

He didn’t want it to be this way. 

Or… that’s a lie. He didn’t want to enjoy it being this way. He had to do it either way, but disliking it would make it slightly easier to forgive himself afterwards. Yet, he was enjoying himself, thoroughly at that. Looking into those large wax-like eyes, glossed over by some thick veil, no longer in her own control, but in his. No longer constantly distracted by the faintest noise or the mildest view or the most mellow smell accompanying the fucking breeze. Her attention undeniably and uninterruptedly set on him and only him. It felt better than what he had imagined, as though some war had been won; peaceful, right.

Yet wrong. It was wrong of him to take advantage of her trust, what more: it was wrong of him to enjoy it so devilishly as well. But how could he not? How could he resist taking pleasure in her utter submission, even if he’d forced it from her; looking at him so helplessly, hopelessly, no plead or hatred or fear evident in her defenseless features, just complete and pure vulnerability. 

Not that she was ever one for caution anyways. She was always so temptingly careless, reckless, ruthless, dangerous. Chaos in desperate need of control. She was always chasing some new type of death as though in love with the idea of her life being ripped away, in love with the idea of not having any control. He was granting her just that. Where she lacked the ability to control herself, he had no qualms in doing it for her. She couldn’t blame him when she was practically begging for it.

He was scared, he realized. Afraid of letting go now that he’d taken her, unsure of how to brace himself once he unclutched his claws from her mind. It was easier to simply stare into her orbs as she did him. Yet, he didn’t take her to feel safe. Quite the opposite. He took her to taste the chaos she provided. That unpredictable terrifying wilderness that seemed to swirl behind her eyes, the one he’d currently subdued. There was no way to prepare, he figured. No point in postponing the inevitable either.

Her eyes flickered, as though waking up from a nap, fluffy puffy soft-looking tail raising behind her, ears ruffling as though sensing she wasn’t where she was supposed to be before her mind reached the same sense of dread. Licking her lips as she’d been unable to for some time. Hands scrunching into the bedsheets, nails plunging through the thin fabric, knees retracting to her chest as her breathing picked up. Eyes locked onto him, recognition then confusion, then a newfound panic building and brewing and storming her senses all at once. 

“What did you do?” 

She sounded unsure, unbelieving of her words, half expecting there to be some logical explanation behind her situation, yet she couldn’t shake her insurmountable sense of dread. Eyes scanning and spiraling from the purple-haired man to the large bed she was placed on to the unknowingly locked door.

Without further thought, she leaped as though she had wings attached to her back, all granted by her cat-like mobility, and even as she realized the door was locked, she still pointlessly shook at the handle as though some saint would grant her wish and unlock it for her. 

She only stopped when she felt his hand touch something sensitive. His hand feeling so familiar in its distinct resolution, firm and purposeful and greedy, handling her extra limb, controlling the only reign she had in keeping control, keep her balance, keep her footing, now strangled inside his fist.

Her tail wormed in his grasp, bending and twining in discomfort, begging for her to whip around and plant those knife-sharp claws into his skin, dragging them, digging them, graveling along his arm, leaving an imprint of three blood-red streaks in their wake, a stark contrast to the softness of her tail-fur.

He hissed and let go, yet couldn’t blame a wild thing for acting on mere instinct, thinking that maybe relieving his control of her was a decision made on hope more so than on logic. His scarf coming to wrap and slither around her quite similar to how a boa constrictor would suffocate their victims. The tendrils lifting her up into the air, all with her thrashing, joined with all downtrodden panicked little yelps and screams which were second by overwhelming second becoming uncontrollable sobs the more and more the situation dawned on her, feeling herself be placed down on the bed again, which sparked the dreadful thought of what impending violation the following events might contain. However, despite the fat globs of tears that soon made passage down her face, drowning out her sight, she was in no shape or form subdued, and would most definitely not be handled without a fight.

The sheets were an easy target for her claws to shred into ruins as quickly as her body met with the soft surface of the mattress. Feather of pillow came flying shortly after, until the idea of ruining whatever bond was holding her in place even came into mind. Her hands finding the capture weapon, beginning to pull and scratch, but to no avail.

“Chess.” His voice managed to send chills shooting through her, now that she could remember each and every time she’d heard it but been made to forget afterwards. All those times he had pulled her tail, coaxed her into answering a question then made her forget the whole ordeal. All those times he’d come by to rub the softness of her furry ears like lucky charms, those times he’d twirl the plush bushiness of her tail around his fingers and hand, those times he’d kissed her, tested to see if her tongue was gravel in texture, and the moan he gave when finding how it was velvety and squishy like a regular human’s would be, maybe even more so.

Her caution rendered frail and pointless in the whirlwind of her panic. “Let me go!” It was half a sob and half a scream, soaked with panic, yet it made no difference to the heavy weight that soon feel upon her conscience. Her eyes growing wide and glossy and void like before, her body lying limp on the bed. Every nerve of her body; raped. The entire construct of her mind; abused, to the point where she felt the faulty cracks created like never-ending ravines made by the gaps in her memory, decisions she didn’t make, wasn’t allowed to make. 

It’s not something you think about… how easy it is for the strong to make the weak crawl, how easy it is for them to excuse themselves, forgive themselves, thank themselves.

His was a patronizing smile, sly in its crookedness. Thinking of how cute a little reckless and forgetful creature he had the liberty and luxury of finding, of having, taking, owning. “Curiosity really did kill the cat, didn’t it?” In her defense it hadn’t sounded like a question. In her defense it wasn’t even her real name, yet the new, or rather old, memories flooding her mind told her otherwise. “It would seem… Kitty’s on her last life.” A long pale finger dragged up her leg slowly, and although she wanted nothing more but to pull her leg to herself, she couldn’t even as much as look at the attacker from anywhere but the very edge of her peripheral, his control not allowing her an inch of mobility.

She realized she hadn’t known fear. She only knew of small fleeting moments where her heart would make a leap into her chest, the feeling of almost pleasant fluttering followed by that flush of relief that could feel like blessing or absolution at times. She used to think fear was something people needed every once in a while. A good little thrilling scare to keep the mundane at bay. But this, this crippling crawling creeping draining, as though there was a puncture somewhere and all her blood was leaking from her limbs and had the fine hairs of her skin raising like spires in a manor where she swore it hurt. And although the fear had her feeling light, as though she was nothing, made of glass or worse, she felt heavy, grounded, trapped. The command placed not in her mind, but on her chest like a two-ton brick.

Stray silent tears slipped past his control, but the act was just as meek and pointless as a whisper in the wind. “I have you wrapped around my pinky, but I promise…” She felt like shaking, like trembling, quaking like earth does in uproar, but her body remained engulfed in some false sense of calm. His knees dipped down into the mattress, and she’d never before wanted to whimper so badly, the sound stuck in her throat, choking her. Her breathing slow and reserved, her own lungs betraying her even as his finger made way to brush up the valley between her breasts over the satiny feel of her blouse. “I won’t do anything you won’t like.”

Hitoshi liked to think he’d learned how much to give and how much to take, when in reality the only thing Hitoshi had cultivated through his several years of struggle was the tenacity, the drive, the strength to take and take and take things when the world doesn’t serve him his desires on a silver platter.

[gloryofluv]

Outfoxed Chapter 2

Well, time to trek on. Considering the last chappy was so small.

Previous Chapter

She felt grimy. Rena could feel the blood around the base of her tail. Yes, her tail. It was dried in the fur and stuck against her skin. Her tail actually felt heavy, so she held it in her arms with the large hood of the sweater tucked over her ears. Everything smelt disgusting about her. The dried sweat, the matted fur, and even her hair smelled.

This whole incident was grossing her out. Not only that, but she felt so… odd. Her actual feelings didn’t quite have the same potency as before. It was muted and hard to place how they seemed foreign. Between the smells of the Devildom, her, the mind-boggling clarity of the world around her, and her lack of intense feelings… she felt this was some odd dream or nightmare.

When they finally reached the House of Lamentation, Simeon waved for them to halt. “Let me. Well, let me go warm him up to this, so we don’t have a human death to worry about,” Simeon exhaled before walking up the staircase.

Solomon bit his thumbnail before turning to Rena. “Are you feeling alright?”

She pulled his hand from his mouth and rocked her head. “I’m just tired. Please stop chomping on your nails; the sound is grating.”

“I promise, I’ll assist in however I can,” he voiced and touched her cheek.

Rena pressed her face deeper into his touch and enjoyed the fragrance on his skin. Warm herbs with a hint of salt and sand. The small tickle of something decadent like a port wine mixed with a sweet shortbread. He smelt divine, and her mouth watered.

Oh, what was that? A new tingle developed in her chest as the fragrance wrapped around her. It was a soft caress that instigated her to desire more. Almost consuming in nature, she couldn’t help but to want to take a bite out of the treat lingering near her nose.

“Sol, you smell delicious,” she breathed as her cheeks warmed.

Her tail slid from her grip and curled around him as she stepped closer. “Okay, wait,” he puffed and attempted to pull from her reaching arms. Oh, he smelt so scrumptious! Her nose ran near his face as she breathed him in.

“Why do you make me want to taste it?” She questioned against his jawline.

“Rena,” Solomon huffed, and she could feel the heat pouring from him.

“Rena,” Simeon called out.

She jerked and turned toward the stairs. “Sorry, Simeon,” she mumbled while marching up the steps.

Simeon breathed and patted her shoulder. “It’s alright. Lucifer isn’t going to yell or get upset. We’re going to go inside, explain what happened, and he’s going to help you get sorted. Okay?” He explained in a low tone.

“Okay,” Rena sighed.

Simeon opened the door as Solomon climbed the stairs, and all three of them walked into the house. Lucifer was standing in the entrance hall, and his eyes met her small form. They then shot to her matted tail, and his eyebrows twitched.

“Hello, Lucifer,” Solomon hummed and stepped around Rena.

“What exactly happened?” Lucifer questioned as he scrutinized the sorcerer.

Rena tucked behind Simeon. Why? What was that reaction? She’d never been afraid of Lucifer in her life! Everyone noted it as well, which only brought more color to her cheeks. Simeon turned and gestured to Lucifer.

“It’s alright. You’re probably going to be feeling and doing things that don’t make much sense to you, Rena,” he voiced and coaxed her back to her spot.

Lucifer sighed and took two strides to the small being. She dropped her vision from him, and he pulled off her hood. “Rena, it’s going to be alright. I just need to find out what happened, and we’ll settle you in for the afternoon.”

Her ears flickered at the tone in his voice, and she gazed up at him. “It was an accident, truly. Don’t blame Solomon.”

Lucifer glanced over at the sorcerer. “How did this happen?”

“We were testing her magical composition with the pacts. It was routine, and we hadn’t even gotten to any of the major experiments. As soon as I finished the incantation, she fell to the floor crying out. Soon the oddities of horns and her ears popped through. Her tail was quite a bit shorter earlier, so it must still be growing along with the detailing on her horns,” Solomon explained.

“So, there’s no source as to how this happened? You haven’t an idea how a routine spell meant to examine composition created this?” Lucifer questioned.

“Oh, what’s this?” Satan’s voice sounded. Rena looked over at the staircase to see him descending and observing the meeting. She didn’t speak but waved, and then his eyes grew while approaching. “Rena, what happened?”

“There was an incident with some magic they were performing today. Rena is temporarily,” Lucifer stopped and opened his gloved hand in her direction.

“A fox?” Satan blinked.

“A demon,” Solomon huffed. “Honestly, this doesn’t make any sense. The incantation was performed correctly. The subject was well and consenting. It should have done what it was supposed to; open up the window so I could see her potential in the passive magic from the pacts.”

Satan tilted his head and waved an index finger in a circle. “Unless, of course, her defenses create a barrier for such. It could have been established a long time ago, maybe as a child. That might be why influential magic doesn’t work on her like Asmodeus’s charm.”

Solomon pressed a fist to his chin and scowled. “Possibly, but we’ve been able to do other composition spells. This one reacted differently.”

“I was in quite a bit of discomfort the whole time,” Rena declared.

Solomon hummed and rocked his head. “There was an obstruction. Why it would tap into the passive demonic energy as a defense is intriguing. We’ll have to investigate.”

“So, this is a defense?” Lucifer asked.

“It could very well be,” Solomon agreed. “What is even more intriguing is that she’s mutated. A fox has great symbolism in all different cultures. Cunning, adaptable, trickery. Even the female fox in certain myths has the alluring ability to render men under a spell to take their life force.”

Rena groaned as her tail swished. “Does that really matter?”

“It might,” Satan agreed. “Especially if you develop talents that are associated with those traits.”

Simeon exhaled and twitched his nose. “Solomon, it might be best if we let them settle in for the evening ahead.”

“Is this making you uncomfortable, Simeon?” Rena questioned with her lips pursed.

“Oh, no, Rena. I’m just concerned with Luke. He was upset I didn’t allow him to come along,” Simeon smiled and touched her shoulder.

Solomon rocked his head. “I’ll be back tomorrow to do some tests.”

Rena moved to hug Simeon, and he jerked, waving his hand. “Let’s reduce overwhelming your senses, Rena.”

“He does have a point. You were quite susceptible to sensitivities earlier,” Solomon voiced as he stepped toward the door.

Rena scowled and tilted her head. “Okay, well, goodbye,” she sighed.

The angel and sorcerer departed, and she slumped a little. Satan approached Rena and exhaled. “Don’t be upset. It’s alright,” he said and patted her head.

“I guess it’s pretty easy to see my emotions with these enormous ears,” she grumbled, and one of them flicked.

Satan grinned and rocked his head. “It’s actually really adorable, Rena.”

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Lucifer announced.

“I can do it, Lucifer,” Satan responded as he ruffled her hair.

“Let’s not tempt whatever imagery you’re working toward, Satan,” Lucifer growled.

Rena jumped and tucked closer to Satan. Oh, now how was she going to explain this fearful reaction to Lucifer? What the fuck?

Lucifer let out an audible sigh as Satan chuckled and coiled his arms around Rena. “It seems she’s afraid of you now, Lucifer. You finally got your wish.”

“I’m not afraid,” Rena groaned as she pulled from him. “I don’t know why I keep reacting like that.”

Lucifer waved his hand in dismissal. “It’s an instinct. We’ll go over all of that later. For now, let’s clean the dried blood out of your hair.”

“And fur,” Satan nodded.

“You,” Lucifer glared at his brother. “Go make yourself useful and do the shopping for dinner tonight.”

Satan rolled his eyes and reached over, caressing one of Rena’s ears. “Just take things one step at a time.”

She licked her lips and winced. “Okay.”

“Satan, now,” Lucifer groaned.

He winked at her and pulled his hand away. “You do look pretty adorable like this, Rena,” he voiced before moving toward the door.

She shifted, and her tail curled around to her torso while gazing at Lucifer. These feelings were quite confusing. Rena knew, emphatically, that Lucifer would never hurt her. Why was she nervous about being alone with him? It isn’t like they hadn’t had quality time together before.

Lucifer rolled his neck and beckoned her to him. “Let’s get you cleaned up and out of Simeon’s sweater. You reek of him, sweat, and blood.”

She rocked her head and wrapped her arms around her tail. Was this going to be her form of security during this whole demon accident? Well, she wasn’t going to get irritated with something that made her feel safe, especially since her emotions were five-scale odd and unidentifiable at this point.

Lucifer led Rena to her room and collected soft clothing from her drawers. He grabbed her towel, a hairbrush, and her toiletries. It would have been something she wouldn’t have expected from him before. A whole different game now, it seemed.

He didn’t question her feelings or even remark as they walked up toward the bathroom. “I’m sorry,” she murmured as they stepped inside the restroom.

“I know,” Lucifer nodded as he set down each of the items with tidy organization. “It isn’t your fault, and I’m not upset.”

Rena moved to the tub and turned on the faucet before staring back at him. “Aren’t you going to let me bathe?” she asked.

He ignored her question and set out a few bottles from her bathroom bag. “Get into the tub, Rena.”

Her cheeks tinted as she pulled the sweater off her body and set it aside. The poor fabric of her leggings had torn in the back, and she had noticed the extent of blood that dried against her inner thighs under the sharp light. Rena kicked off her shoes and yanked off her socks before sliding down the torn leggings and underwear. What a shame.

She made quick work of her bra before climbing into the building water and grimacing. So much of her body was sore and tender. Rena couldn’t sit fully on her ass due to the throbbing of her tailbone, where her tail now rested. So, instead of sitting, she shifted to her calves and the heaviness of her tail being submerged felt taut in her spine.

The water was already disgusting. Whatever was stuck in her, well, fur, was coming off into the water. Lucifer walked over and turned off the faucet before taking off his gloves and reaching for a random shampoo on the shelf. He was going to clean her?

“Don’t get frustrated. You’ll learn how to groom this massive inconvenience later. I just would like to rid some of the demonic residues off of it.”

“Demonic residue?” Rena echoed as she shifted to watch him.

Lucifer groaned and manually pressed her body back to where it was before. “Please let me finish this, Rena. I know you’re curious, but you smell disgusting.”

“I know,” she snorted.

He pressed on her back, causing her chest to sink to the brown-hued water. Rena grimaced but didn’t question him as his fingers began lathering up her tail toward the base of her spine. “Demonic residue happens at the shift or, in Satan’s case, at his creation.”

Rena couldn’t help the twitching her tail was doing at his touch. Nor the reaction of her ears flattening and flicking either. It was so sensitive and overstimulating.

“I’m sorry,” he sighed. “I know this feels invasive. However, we shall break some of those sensitive reactions when you’re dried off.”

“Lucifer, I’m so confused,” Rena confessed.

“I know,” he agreed as his fingers worked up her tail with more shampoo.

“Is Lord Diavolo going to be angry with me?” Rena murmured as she ran her fingers over her neck.

“No,” Lucifer whispered, and a hand caressed her lower back. “Just relax now, Rena. I won’t let you get harmed, alright?”

She rocked her head and puffed as he worked on her tail. It was as if he needed to give her permission just to relax. Rena breathed and whimpered at the tugging of her tail in different directions as he groomed it. After the lengthy process of lathering it and almost yanking at the matted crap caught in it, Lucifer unplugged the tub and turned back on the water.

She remained huddled as her tail sank to the basin, and he grabbed the wand. Flicking on the pressure, he sprayed out the suds. It was such a stressful event for Rena. Not only did she develop an extra limb, but it was just so tender to the firm touches of Lucifer.

“Cover your face, Rena,” he murmured.

She cupped her eyes and mouth before he began gingerly wetting her hair and around her ears. For how aggressive he was about her tail, he lessened his attack around her head. Soft fingers racing through her long hair. Gentle caresses her ears as the water trickled around them, causing her to shake her head involuntarily.

He chuckled. “Hold still. You’re worse than Cerberus in a bath.”

She laughed and exhaled. “I’m sorry, I can’t help that, Lucifer.”

“How are you feeling now? Less disassociated?” He questioned while the strong fragrance of his shampoo entered her nose.

“Yes, I think so,” Rena sighed as she pulled her hands from her face. “What’s happening? Why do I feel so muted?”

Lucifer’s fingers combed through her hair. “It’s your senses being completely overloaded after such a traumatic change. Even changing from angel to demon, there are a few overwhelming sensitivities that happen. I can’t begin to imagine what it was like as a human.”

“To be honest, I felt like someone else was living my life for a bit,” Rena confessed.

“You’ll feel better when we have tea. There’s plenty to go over today, so I need you to come back a little bit more,” Lucifer declared as he carefully coated her ears in shampoo.

“Are you worried?”

He was quiet for a moment while finishing up her hair around her horns. Rena winced from his touch, and his other hand scooped under her chin, holding her still. If her tail was intrusive, cleaning around the horns was murderous. She yelped and huffed as he scrubbed. It wasn’t even rough, but they were so tender.

“Sh, it’s alright; I promise I won’t hurt them. Relax,” he whispered.

“They’re throbbing,” she murmured.

“I know, we’ll get you a potion for the soreness after. Just let me take care of them, so they don’t grow improperly,” he breathed.

Such a dedicated demon. Rena didn’t move or shudder when he reached for the wand and began spraying out the shampoo. She covered her eyes, and he made quick work of the cleaning before spraying off her back and rubbing a cloth with the familiar scent of her soap against her.

He took his time, now cleaning her flesh, lifting her arms, wiping her neck, and even softly working on her chest. Rena moved and shifted to his needs before he was satisfied. After she was clean, Lucifer stood up and repacked her toiletries before reaching for her towel.

“Stand up, darling,” he voiced.

Rena hoisted herself from the tub with a loud grunt and stepped out of the tub and into his arms and towel. Lucifer dried her with precision and gentleness, every inch of her flesh. When he reached her dripping tail, he wrapped the towel around it and shook it.

“Lucifer,” Rena growled.

He chuckled and released it from the confines of the towel. “Shake it out.”

Rena eyed the limb and thought of the similar actions of a dog after a bath. She shook her tail over the tub, and water sprayed from it with swift pattering. Now the fur was puffy and damp. “What an odd thing. A furry ass tail that I’m going to have to spend hours brushing out. Asmodeus is going to have a field day.”

Lucifer snorted as he carefully ran the towel over her ears. “As long as he doesn’t try to style it, I think you will live.”

“Very true,” Rena giggled.

“No hairdryers this week. Your ears are too sensitive to sound,” Lucifer said while ruffling the towel over her hair.

“Okay.”

“And definitely no leave-in conditioner. Your ears will get oily,” Lucifer voiced.

“You know an awful lot about this situation,” Rena remarked as he pulled the towel from her view.

Lucifer scowled down at her. “I have a massive fire-breathing dog. I understand fur care well enough.”

“Touche,” Rena laughed.

“Now, let’s get you up to my room. We’ll sit down, go over some vital information and call Lord Diavolo,” Lucifer explained as he set down her towel on the counter.

“Okay,” Rena puffed.

“I’m going to step outside and send a few texts to my brothers and allow you a moment to recenter, Rena. We’ll take care of this. Just keep breathing,” Lucifer nodded.

“Breathe, right,” Rena agreed before inhaling.

He slid back on his gloves before stepping out of the bathroom. Rena turned to the mirror to see herself for the first time as a clean demon. Her bushy auburn tail with black and white toward the tip. Her ears with a similar pattern and dark horns with swirls and speckles that crowned her face.

She looked cute, not really dangerous. Of course, she gets turned into a demon, and she is the most meek-looking one she’d ever seen. Just fantastic. Narrowing her sharp green eyes, she tilted her head. However, looks could be deceiving, right? Well. One step at a time.

Rena pulled on her clothing, careful to set her pants just below the base of her tail. It was an interesting concept. This morning she was human, and now she was this fox, well vixen, demon. Fancy such strange events. She should be used to it by now.

[daebakinc]

D-5: Ghost

Pairing: Ghost Hyunsik x Reader AU: Ghost Genre: Angst Word Count: 1K

Many people think in that in death, there’s no choice. There are only three options: go to heaven, go to hell, or remain in limbo as a spirit until your unresolved business on Earth is fulfilled. When Hyunsik died, he discovered there was some choice.

He could have passed on. He had earned peace in his lifetime. However, one thing tied him to the physical realm. One thing made him voluntarily turn away from the light to return as only a shadow of himself. 

You.

It felt like a moment because that’s all Hyunsik took before making his decision. Then, he was back in your shared apartment.

It’s dark. Hyunsik tries to turn on the lights, but his hand passes right through the switch. He stares, then sighs. This will take some taking use to.

Out of habit, he calls your name, realizing only belatedly that it’s unlikely you’ll be able to hear him. They warned him that might take time.

Better to listen. Straining his ears, Hyunsik hears something coming from the bedroom. You must be home. He has to see you.

As he steps, floats out of the kitchen, the calendar on the wall catches his eye. What he sees makes him pause in shock. He tries to grab the calendar, but his hands don’t even ruffle it.

Seven months. He’s already been dead for seven months. 

The sound comes again. A chilling thought comes to his mind. What if he made a mistake coming back.... because you’ve already moved on? Of course he wants you to, but at the same time, that’s not something he wants to see. But he has to know.

When he reaches the closed door, he hesitates. Then, Hyunsik recognizes the sound. He rushes in and what he finds would have broken his heart if it still beat.

You’re curled on your side in the bed alone. In your arms is one of his shirts, your face buried in it. The fabric barely muffle the sobs that convulse your body. Hyunsik feels guilty. How could he have thought you would have already moved on?

When he eases himself down on the bed behind, the sheets don’t even crease. Hyunsik molds his body to yours. He slips one arm beneath your head and wraps the other low across your tummy, just like he used to. The heat of your body that use to melt every speck of his being now feels as warm as tepid bathwater. Your smooth skin is just a gauzy whisper beneath his fingers. He knew touching you would be hard, but this?

Trying to stave off desperation and panic, he buries his nose in your neck, breathing you in. There it is, he thinks with a sigh. His favorite smell in the world: your shampoo, your laundry detergent, and that smell you swore wasn’t perfume but always wafted from you.

“Hyunsik...”

He freezes. Can you feel him? Do you know he’s there?

“Hyunsik,” you whimper. “Come back... please... come back to me.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his voice cracking. He holds you tighter, even though he knows you can’t feel it. “I’m sorry. I came back. I-”

You need to tell her to let go. Only then can she be happy, Hyunsik. Go.

Suddenly, the bed is gone. So is the bedroom and the apartment. Hyunsik stands on a beach. The sand is dark with early morning damp and clumps beneath his toes. Gray clouds and fog render mirror the silver ocean in front of him. No one else is in sight, not even a seagull. Only the waves gently rolling onto shore break the morning silence. 

“Hyunsik?” your voice asks from behind him.

He spins around. You’re standing there, dressed just as you were when you went to the seaside for your anniversary. The same trip where Hyunsik proposed.

You move closer, a hand tentatively outstretched as you say his name again. Your eyes hold cautious hope, like you’re terrified he’ll disappear. He takes a step toward. He cups your hand with his and brings it to his face. Unable to resist, he turns his head to kiss your wrist, his lips sinking into your skin.

With a sound that is half laugh, half sob, you throw your arms around his neck. You murmur his name over and over again like an anguished prayer. Even as he feels your tears soak through his shirt, Hyunsik crushes you to him, lifting you off the ground. He can finally feel you. Just like before. Finally...

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, so sorry,” he murmurs, the words imprinting on your skin. “I didn’t- I didn’t want to.”

You let go just enough to frame his face in both hands. Your eyes still shine with tears, but this time, there’s a smile on your face instead of a wretched grimace. “You’re... how...” you ask, wonder saturating your voice.

“I promised you,” Hyunsik says, looking at you like nothing else in the world exists. “I promised I would never believe you.”

You nod, still stroking his face as if to convince yourself he truly is standing there. Unconsciously, Hyunsik’s hands mimic yours. They stroke your back, memories reawakening with every inch of you. Your eyes fall to his lips. That’s the only he needs to tilt his head and kiss you. 

It’s even better than he remembered. That subtle electric charge that warms and tingles all at once.  

Tell her to let go.

Not yet. He can’t. Not when he just got you back. It doesn’t matter if this is real or not. Here, Hyunsik is with you again.

The longer you stay, the more you will fade away. There is only so long your soul can last in a dream.

“I don’t care,” Hyunsik says.

“What?”

He shakes his head and smiles reassuringly. He lets go of you, but retains his hold on your hand. He interlocks your fingers and squeezes. “Do you remember this place?”

You nod. “Of course. I’ll never forget it.”

“Do you think the water’s just as cold?”

“Only one way to find out,” you say, a grin spreading across your face as you read the matching smile on Hyunsik’s face.

Without another word, the two of you sprint for the water, hand-in-hand, whooping like two crazy teenagers. It doesn’t matter to either of you if this is real. Reality be damned. So long as you’re once again united, that’s enough. 

It’s more than enough.

[hueswrites]

hq kinktober [day1] tendou

main hq kinktober list

hq kinktober [day1] tendou satori/cosplay

includes: a bit of story, some angsty broody stuff on reader's part, cosplay (obviously), fingering and female receiving oral sex

wordcount: 4,827

ok this turned out to be more fluff and actual sort of plot than smut. i just started writing at 12:30am and kept going until 6 in the morning. this is the result. if you were looking forward to straight up smut on this first prompt, i'm sorry but THIS IS NOT IT LMAO.

i absolutely adore tendou and the perspective i gave him on life in this. stay quirky, my friends. (as kenma would say... stay interesting, shouyo)

Being Satori was hard. It was unfortunate, exhausting, and just plain miserable - that's what his junior high school classmates wanted him to believe, at least.

In his early years of school, Satori Tendou was teased for his awkward, gangly appearance and unusual mannerisms. His attempts to interact with his peers were often shunned due to the offbeat semblance he exuded, which left most of the other kids feeling unsettled.

His mother, equally peculiar in her own way, urged Satori to make the most of his eccentricities. "Think about the characters you like from the manga you read. Would you want to keep reading the story if all the characters were the same?"

Satori shook his head, already concluding the point his mother was trying to make. "I get what you're saying, Mom," he grinned from ear to ear, a smile the width of his perfectly straight cherry red bangs, and pushed himself away from the kitchen table. He plopped down onto the wooden floorboard with exuberance. "Life is boring when everyone's the same. Who wants to live a boring life?" He padded over to his room and jumped onto his bed, going back to the first page of this week's issue of Jump. The warm, tingly feeling of adventure took over as he reread the newest chapters of his favorite series for the thirteenth time that week.

A decade later, Satori found himself living in France, where he stood out more than ever before. Not only did he need to learn how to adapt to the country's unfamiliar customs, he also had to learn how to speak its language: the language of love. He found his self-appointed tutor in the bookstore he frequented once he felt comfortable navigating the streets of Paris, which happened to be the same bookstore you browsed when you had a little bit of money to spend.

There you stood alongside him in the graphic novel section, your form hidden under an oversized hoodie, brows scrunched together in what appeared to be deep concentration. You were extremely aware of his presence looming over you, and it created a feeling of unease that sunk into your bones. You braved a glance up at his face, and he quickly turned his head back to stare at the row of the slice-of-life series that lined the very top shelf before him.

Tall, you thought to yourself. That's a very tall man.

You shuffled away from him just a bit, browsing the very bare section of "how-to-draw manga" guides that you knew were second rate to how real manga artists crafted their work.

Moments later, a silvery voice spilled into your consciousness and caught your attention. "Hmm, if only Matsuo-chan realized Hibari's feelings for her in the very beginning..." You can't help but look back up at the lanky man next to you, listening as he changed his speech from French to Japanese. "Then perhaps sweet misery would've never crushed their poor, little hearts." He turned his head to look down at you, heavy lids lowered over brilliantly crimson irises. A cheeky upward curve lifted his thinly shaped lips, and your heart skipped a beat.

Your mind went blank, rendering you speechless.

"I saw the Todai button on your bag," he said, voice now light and cheerful.

You blinked once, twice, then looked down at your messenger bag decorated with various pins from the clubs you took part of in college back in your home country of Japan. Your body relaxed, and a breathy laugh escaped your lips. "Yeah, Tokyo University. Are you from Japan?"

"Yes! Came here from Sendai. How's my French?" He beamed a child-like smile.

You produced your most sarcastic chuckle, turning to lean a shoulder onto the bookshelf so you could face him. "It's kind of terrible."

He mocked a look of despair and dropped his head in feigned embarrassment. You noticed how the pale skin of his cheeks turned a faint shade of red, and you wondered how someone could go from intimidating to adorable in a matter of seconds. Then his eyes snapped back to you, and a toothy grin spread across his face. "Wanna be my tutor?"

Your cheeks flushed pink, and your breath came to a halt again.

"I'm not sure I'm qualified to do something like that," you said, pushing yourself away from the shelf to stand square.

He hummed and straightened his posture, shifting his eyes away from yours, down to your shoes, then back up to your face. "Why not?" The look on his face expressed genuine curiosity.

You decided to pretend you didn't notice his blatant evaluation of your physical form just now.

"I've only been here for a year. I can speak enough French to get by, but I'm not sure I can teach someone else how to speak it."

"So little faith in yourself, little miss."

You furrow your brows at the nickname.

He whipped out a volume of a manga you recently started reading and held it up to you. "You have a pin of this on your bag, too," he said with a wiggle of his sparse eyebrows. "How about you try and get me to start reading this subpar manga by making me read it out loud in French?"

You gave him a look of piqued interest. The possibility of roping someone into reading your favorite series was tempting.

Then he continued, "And we can get yakitori and beer while you teach me?"

The hue of red on your face extends to your forehead.

"You've got pins of beer and yakitori on your bag, too."

A few weeks later, you and Satori were on your sixth date seated across from each other at a cat café in downtown Paris. It took the first three dates (he'd somehow coerced you into) for you to realize that the strange man was just that - strange, but harmless. The one friend you'd managed to make in your year in France introduced you to some very attractive and very gregarious men that you just couldn't see yourself with. Your friend's idea of fun was clubbing and bar hopping through the streets of Paris, and that was unsurprisingly the same kind of fun those men preferred as well.

To you, fun was something much more personal and intimate. Your past experience with relationships lead you to believe that you are meant to be on your own - that there is nobody in this world that will appreciate your oddities and make you as happy as you can make yourself.

Your interests lied in worlds of fiction and fantasy - games, books, movies, and manga, which you learned Satori was just as passionate about as you. Not surprising. He seemed to fit the socially awkward, emotionally inept stereotype you knew most men fit into that also liked anime. He asked too many questions, didn't understand when his questions push personal boundaries, and just wouldn't. Shut. Up.  

He did smell nice. You gave him that.

"So little turtle-in-her-shell, do you ever go to conventions?"

You paused your chewing of the last bit of coffee cake you ordered. "Turtle in her shell?"

That carmine, wide eyed gaze of his remained fixed on your face. "You wear that big hoodie all the time like a turtle in a shell."

"It's comfortable," you state. “And yes, I go to conventions.”

Nearly a minute of silence passed between the two of you, and if it weren't for the chatter of others seated around you and the clinking of cups and plates, you'd have really retracted into your "shell" of a sweater.

So you changed the subject, deciding to ask a question that stepped a hair outside of your comfort zone to a man you weren't quite sure about yet.

"Were you just trying to get my attention with that whole "be my tutor" spiel?" You asked following a sip of your iced cappuccino. A little calico feline had chosen you as its scratching post, kneading its nails into the fabric of your jeans. You ignored the little stings of pain for the sake of the cat's enjoyment.

Satori multitasked between feeding himself scoops of his chocolate parfait and playing with the lashing paws of the black cat that sat on the table between you. "Hey now," he said, lightly squeezing the cat's tail before quickly retreating his hand away to avoid the tiny beast's teeth. "I wouldn't know all the different ways to say "I need to take a dump" in French if it weren't for your tutoring thus far, little miss.”

"That's a weird nickname you have for me." The cat on your lap suddenly hopped to the ground, skirting across the ground to the human it suddenly deemed more worthy of its attention than you. You frowned, the action wounding your cold, bitter heart.

"You wouldn't remember me if I called you by just your name, would you?" He used a straw to slurp up the remaining concoction of sugar at the bottom of his cup.

"Do you even remember my real name, Satori?"

He pushed the now empty cup aside and ruffled the black cat's ears with his fingers. It hissed and gave a quick swat of its paw to his hands, then jumped off the table and scurried away.

"I never forget the names of all the cute girls I get to add to my harem," he said with a smirk, his cheeks rising to meet the crinkled corners of his eyes.

You gave him a lopsided glare. "You're kidding, right?"

Satori laughed - a lilted giggle that sent a shiver straight down to your gut, and then his expression darkened and his eyes captured yours in a binding stare. "Would you like to come over and see for yourself?" The way his voice rumbled an octave lower than you've ever heard had you squeezing your hands into nervous balls of tension above your knees.

You frowned. You genuinely couldn't tell if he was being serious. If you hadn't known how much wit and jest the man exuded in nearly every one of his actions, you wouldn't put it past him to be a basement dwelling, serial stalking NEET that kidnapped girls and made them dress up to suit his twisted fantasies. The thought had you questioning every single thing he's said to you so far. He had your number, he knew where you liked to eat, where you liked to drink, and he even knew where you worked. Was this guy like the others?

Suddenly his laughter burst through the air, the sound so boisterous it made you flinch.

"You look so petrified! Are you that gullible to believe everything I say?"

You grit your teeth and grabbed the paper wrapper from his straw to chuck it at his face. "That was so not cool!" You huffed, getting your wallet out to leave a tip on the table.

His laughter continued to tumble through the café, disrupting conversations from nearby customers only for them to direct their attention towards you. You rose to your feet and hurried towards the exit. You absolutely hate being the center of attention!

Satori followed you and matched your stride easily, one of his steps covering three of yours. He stood unbearably close, and if he didn't smell as sweet as the parfait he just ate, you would've shoved him away,

"___-chan," he sang, and you realized it was the first time he said your name. You allowed yourself to relax just a little and slowed your steps. A brief moment of silence settled between the two of you, and he used that moment to gauge your current state of emotional wellbeing.

"___-chan," he said again, this time demanding your attention.

You remained silent. Satori had picked up on so many of your habits in the past few weeks of talking to you and observing your actions that he understood your silence as your cue for, "Go on, I'm listening."

"I'm sorry for upsetting you," he said, bending at his waist so he could meet your line of sight, continuing to stroll alongside you. He must've noticed the creases under your eyes disappear as your tension eased away because that smug little smirk returned to his face. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, turning your head to look at him just slightly. A shade of pink colored your cheeks when you met his gaze - his wide, inquisitive eyes studying you with childlike innocence.

You looked forward.

He chuckled and stood up straight, sliding his hands into his jean pockets. "Adorable," he said aloud, further deepening your blush.

You steeled yourself and regained your composure. "Which way do we go?"

Satori hummed. "What do you mean?" he said, bending down again to look at your face. Why must he always have to stare like that when he speaks?

"Aren't we going to your place?"

He grinned. "Really?"

You threw a glare his way. "I'll change my mind if we don't start heading there right now."

Satori grimaced. "___-chan does not cool down so easily after bursting into flames," he mumbled, and you ignored the comment. He sighed. "This way, little miss," he took your hand and pulled you along, bounding across the street as the pedestrian crosswalk countdown hit zero. Your hand wrapped around his, holding on tight to keep up.

You couldn't help but laugh at the stupid sound effects he made as he continued to leap from the street onto the sidewalk, giving you no choice but to run and jump over the curb with him.

Your self-conceived belief that you are all you'll ever have and all you'll ever need to be happy now faced a challenger. This strange person - this bizarre character - punched a hole through the wall you've put so much effort to build on your own.

Satori's twenty-seventh birthday came just after your one year anniversary of the strange... relationship... you managed to maintain despite your ongoing struggle against the warped, pessimistic reality you believed about relationships through years of self-doubt. Slowly but steadily the glass case you built around yourself chipped away due to Satori's freakish ability to see beyond your façade and understand your feelings.

You learned about the bullying he faced in his childhood, and how his mother and high school volleyball team helped him accept the fact that life will always have real jerks with nothing nice to say to test your tenacity. He created a routine of reminding you that you can choose whether or not you let those nasty words bring you down or give you motivation to build your self worth.

Life is more fun when things are a little out of the ordinary. Who wants to be the same as everyone else? These are words you considered when you felt down.

For Satori's birthday, you wanted to do something different, something unique that he would remember about you if you ever went your separate ways.

Since the beginning, you noticed Satori had a thing for cute girls in cosplay. When you told him about your own cosplay projects and showed him pictures, his whole demeanor changed. He became shy - something hardly anyone had ever seen in his usually indiscreet personality.

One thing that helped you feel a little more confident in yourself and your relationship was your experience in physical intimacy. From what you gathered in the little bit of discussion you've had with Satori on the topic, he seemed to have far less experience than you. It was cute how his face went bright red when you managed to pry the details of his past encounters out from the tiny little box of insecurities he still held within. Perhaps it was your turn to bring something out of the wicked Guess Monster (you thought it was a cheesy name but he really took pride in the title whenever he reminisced on his youth at Shiratorizawa Academy) that he kept so carefully hidden away.

"Why are you so shy about this?" You asked the first time you had sex.

Suddenly, the creepy, unwavering eye contact he managed to hold with anyone he came face to face with vanished from the list of unsettling and seemingly unashamed habits and mannerisms that made Satori Tendou so uniquely... Satori.

"The one thing I still have trouble with is..." he looked down at where your naked bodies connected on the plush mattress he swore really was worth the $2,000 he spent. (I don't mean to diss your profession, but do you really make enough money as a chocolatier to afford a bed that expensive?) you asked, immediately regretting having asked the question when a gloomy grey cloud appeared over his head).

"Fucking?" You said, giving him a cocky little smirk.

He buried his face in the crook of your neck with a groan.

"I know you get turned on by cute cosplays of your favorite anime girls."

"...and cute actresses," he muttered, now stuffing his face between your breasts.

That's when you decided to shake things up.

Satori's weekends were usually occupied by work at the sweets factory. He was in the process of getting promoted to a position that freed up his weekends, but it wasn't happening anytime soon.

It was just your luck that his birthday fell on a Saturday this year, your only day off on the weekends. You left your cosplays and wigs back in Japan, boxed up in the bedroom you grew up in. While Satori was slaving away at work, you went shopping. You managed to find a decent sewing machine and plenty of fabric at a (pricey) thrift store on the other side of town. The wigs you looked at were ridiculously expensive - definitely for the high end fashion scene of Paris, not for nerdy cosplayers.

Once you returned to his apartment, you spread all of your findings across his bed and bedroom floor.

A maid's skirt that you will definitely chop up to be anything but modest.

A coreset you honestly weren't sure would fit your little love handles and tummy that lost its tone after all the dessert dates Satori insisted were good for "self care."

Cute devil horns with a pointed tail to match.

Knee high stockings and garters he mentioned as being one of the sexiest things a woman could wear.

And a simple leather collar to put around your neck... with the option to hook a leash.

You looked at the spread before you and wondered how such a quiet, reserved person such as yourself could be so... kinky.

You checked the time on your phone. You had three hours to put something together.

9:43pm Satori:

i'm leaving! boss said he'd let me leave 27 minutes early to celebrate the 27 years of my blessed existence on this planet

@( o･ꎴ･)@

9:44pm

that's all he did for your birthday? and wtf is that emoji

9:44pm Satori:

it's supposed to be a monkey but now that i look it really doesn't look like one. be home soooooon!! ＼(^o^)／ he gave me a $1000 bonus too #stacked

9:45pm

omg you are so lame! come straight to your room for your present :)

9:45pm Satori: (͠≖ ͜ʖ͠≖) ohooOoOOo??

9:46pm stop sending faces and just get your skinny butt over here

9:46pm Satori:

┏( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)┛┏( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)┛┏( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)┛

You heard the front door open, followed by the thump of Satori's shoes hitting the wall. The sound of the lock sliding into place once he closed the door sent a little shiver up your spine.

You sat on his bed, back against the headboard, legs crossed in front of you. You fixed your little devil horns, made sure the tail was pulled out from underneath your butt, and pushed the coreset up to give your cleavage a boost.

Inhale. Exhale.

You'd never dressed up for something like this before, and you had no idea how Satori would react. You imagined he would immediately pass out with a nosebleed.

His footsteps neared his room, and you heard him in his chipper, sing-song voice. "What is my little ___-chan up to, hmm?"  

Once he reached the doorway, his eyes landed on you, and his entire body froze. His jaw went slack, looking like a fool with his mouth wide open in dumbstruck awe at the sight before him.

You gave him your most innocent smile, spreading your legs open just a hair. "Come eat up your dessert, Satori~" you said with a tone so sultry it turned his bones into mush.

Satori's shoulders slumped, and he ran a hand through his matted hair in exasperation. His rusty red locks had grown longer than when you first met him - curling behind his ears and covering his forehead. "Baby..." he said, walking into the room, towards the bed. "Baby, baby, baby," he repeated in English, his favorite language to express excitement. He crawled onto the bed, stopping just before you to sit and cross his legs while he looked you over.

Your skirt was cut so short he could almost see the sweet spot between your legs. The garter straps hugged the meat of your thighs and hooked onto the thigh high stockings that fit the muscle of your calves.

Those pointy little horns sat just a little bit lopsided on your head. That slim, pointed tail traced back to your rear, and the collar around that gorgeous neck of yours drew his eyes down to your barely contained cleavage.

"Baby," he said again, almost a whisper. He leaned forward onto his knees to hover over your body and cradled your face between his hands. Hungry crimson eyes gazed right through you, a shade darker than you've ever seen before. "I'm the luckiest man in the world," he said, then pressed the softest, most gentle kiss to your lips.

Your heart fluttered, hands coming up to thread your fingers into his hair. "Happy birthday," you murmured, bringing him back down for another kiss.

The kiss quickly went from gentle to fervent, his hands slipping up your calves over the stockings, over the garters and up to your thighs, rounding out over your ass. He gave your fleshy cheeks a squeeze and broke the kiss, going straight to your neck, kissing every bit of your exposed skin.

You spread your legs more, asking him to come closer, and he did. Your hands slipped underneath his shirt, lifting it above his ribcage, up to his shoulders. He barely moved back to remove the shirt completely before pressing his lips back to the skin over your collarbones, giving you gentle nips with his teeth.

This was the Satori you wanted in bed.

He sighed into your chest, going down to kiss the swell of your breasts. "My little devil," he said, sucking on the skin right above the coreset. "You're so sexy," he bit down a little bit harder, eliciting a hiss through your teeth. "So beautiful," a kiss over the bite, moving to your other breast. "So irresistible," both of his hands came up underneath your ass to lift you up off of the bed and into his lap. You yelped, forgetting his lithe frame could muster so much strength. He placed you in his lap, leaning forward to run his tongue across your lips and into your mouth once you opened up for him.

"Take your pants off," you mumbled, pulling at the waistband.

"I don't wanna stop kissing you," he whined, hands running up along your waist and over your back to press you up against his chest. At that moment you wished you could feel the warmth of his skin, if it weren't for the coreset.

"How are you gonna fuck me if you don't take them off?"

"Mmmfgh," he groaned, a funny sound that only Satori could make without killing the mood.

He pulled away, then quickly leaned forward to steal another kiss, and pulled away again. You crawled off his lap and sat back, watching him rise to his knees to shimmy pants down his hips. He sat back on his butt and kicked them off then crawled back to you, caging you between his arms and legs.

You pushed him away and gave him a devious smirk. "If I knew dressing up like this would flip your switch, I would've done it a long time ago."

He returned your grin with a wicked gleam of his own, eyelids drooping down to look at you with his most perverted leer. "Achievement unlocked?"

You slapped your hand over his face, pushing him away with a laugh. Spreading your legs again, you drew his attention down to your skirt and flipped it up over your stomach to show him your bare cunt.

He groaned, a mix of a whine and a curse, before diving down to attach his mouth straight to your dampened folds. He licked and sucked, pressing the flat of his tongue against your clit before sucking on the little bud, repeating the motion over and over until you started to writhe.

"I-" you began, letting out a huff of a breath, "would tell you to slow down," your hand flew up to grip onto his hair tightly once he pushed a finger inside you. "But it's your night," you huffed again, a strangled moan leaving your throat. "Go wild, Satori."

He removed his mouth and went straight from one finger to three, rubbing the pads of his fingers up against the walls of your core stretching you out and looking up at you with glossy, hazy eyes. "Best dessert I've ever had," he groaned, watching you tilt your head back, chest heaving as your body started to tremble. He went back down to lap at your folds, replacing his fingers with the muscle of his tongue, pushing it deep into your little hole.

"Fuck, Satori, I'm already close," you sighed, rocking your hips up against his mouth. He pulled away again. "I want you for breakfast," he pushed his fingers back inside your cunt, now sloppy with the slick of his saliva and your arousal. He gave a bruising kiss to the inside of your thigh, "And I want you for lunch," a kiss to your other thigh, "And dinner," he groaned, feeling you clench around his digits, pumping harder, faster - long, nimble fingers reaching the very depth of your core.

Those little horns started to slide off your head as you tossed your head forward and back, watching him work between your legs and thrashing back against the headboard whenever he hit your sweet spot.

You lifted your hips off the bed, urging your body to the peak of pleasure. Your voice kept going, encouraging him to go faster, harder, sighing, panting, moaning.

And just like that, every muscle in your body tightened, and a gush of liquid splashed out over his fingers and onto his tongue, his nose, and his chin. Your moans turned into brief, choked sobs as your orgasm rocked your body. You gripped your fist into his hair, so tight you ended up bringing his body forward.

"God," you groaned out load, dropping yourself back down to the bed, your body now spent. He kissed the spot under your navel, over your belly button, back up to your chest, your neck, and your chin. You felt the tips of his fingers slip underneath one of the stockings and pull up and away, letting it snap back down against your skin. You giggled, bringing him up for a slick, sloppy kiss.

You both remained as you were, his forehead now resting against yours, eyes closed, soft pants easing back to controlled breaths. Your left arm slung over the back of his neck, and your right remained tangled into his messy locks, the pads of your fingers giving a gentle massage to his scalp.

"How do you feel?" you asked, too tired to open your eyes.

"Hmmm," he hummed, not quite coherent enough to give a substantial response.

Suddenly, both of his arms wrapped around your waist, and he flipped himself over so that you were on top, straddling his waist. His back rested flat against the bed, that mischievous look once again casting a wicked shadow over his face. He glanced over to where the little devil horns fell onto the bed and placed them back where they belong atop your head.

"I feel like I'm just a peasant, sentenced to be one of hell's slaves for all eternity."

You grin, catching onto his narrative. "Such an unfortunate fate. You were once a hero, but were corrupted by the temptation of  lust."

Satori grinned, a toothy, mischievous grin, and his eyes narrowed maliciously. "Now I'm cursed with the inability to ever be satisfied..." He breathed a laugh. "We're so fucking weird," he murmured, "Sounding like Team Rocket..."

You leaned down to give him a kiss. "Weird, normal. Whatever. As long as we're having fun, right?"

[ianite-simp]

take it upon yourself pt. 1

"So you've made your decision." A voice hummed low in his head. A familiar voice, a god Jordan knew all too well. 

"Decision?" Faint bewilderment rang clear in his own words. Had he really? Had he really pledged himself to a god? As far as he knew, he hadn't yet. The necessity wasn't there, not for him. To tie himself to one would be a waste, it would destroy any balance in the realm. He couldn't add to the chaos, no, he had to fix it.

But Dianite had treated him kindly. The god had offered him a place, offered him power. He knew the god was waiting for him. But how could he accept? “What do you mean?”

A whiff of brimstone and sulfur drifted by, a soft touch of an invisible hand brushed his cheek. There was no response.

~

Silken bonds tied the hands of his lady. Smooth, glistening fabric bound the delicate wrists together, rendering her helpless. Pure white against soft skin. So delicate, so innocent How could they be hurting her? 

They were so unsuspecting.

With trembling fingers Jordan undid those bonds. Fingers trembling with an adrenaline that flooded his nerves, washed away his senses. The weeks of praying and waiting, of working and searching, they had led to this moment. Carefully, ever so carefully, he untied the last knot. The silk fluttered to the ground, forgotten, as he saw the damage it had done.

Skin rubbed raw, flushed and irritated. Brown eyes met purple, concern met exhaustion, an apology met acceptance. Had he only been there sooner, had they only figured it out earlier - perhaps some of the pain could have been prevented. Perhaps something could have been done.

He had never suspected that the bonds that held Ianite had harmed her. They were too gentle, too pure. But only on the outside were they so. That which was hidden away wore on the goddess, bit by bit. 

The adrenaline that had only moments ago filled him with anticipation threatened to explode out of him, escape through every pore. His own hands were shaking, shaking, shaking. The sheer sense of powerlessness, of failure, it consumed him. He hadn't done enough.

~

"She's gone, isn't she?"

"In this world, at least."

They stood a little ways apart from the others, debris crashing down around them as they hurriedly spoke.

"She'll be waiting for you in another place, Captain. And so will I." Strong, warm hands folded over his own. Just for a moment they held tight, a promise flashing across the deep red eyes that held his own.

"But I didn't save her. Didn't… didn't I fail her?" It was softly spoken. Any louder and his voice would have failed him. It would have cracked, would have given away the splinters in his own facade of stability.

With a soft squeeze, the god pulled his hands away. "But you helped to save me, Captain. Don't forget that."

~

Don’t forget that.

The darkness of the void surrounded him, encompassing his entirety. Whispering static filled his ears, fried his nerves. Stasis hadn’t set in yet, and he was so alone. He held his hands before his eyes, studying the weather worn skin. Fingers curled inwards with nothing to hold onto.

Don’t forget that.

How could he forget it? How could he forget those eyes, the depths that pulled him in ever closer? How could he forget the sight of her graceful statue crumbling into nothing? How could he forget the coarse skin, so gentle against his own? How could he forget his failure of her? How could he forget his promise to him? How could they still wait for him?

Don’t forget that.

His head fell forward against his chest, eyes screwed shut to block out the never ending dark. Nausea swept over him in waves that slowly grew in size. Something about the discomforting power of the void seemed stronger than ever. If only stasis would come to him.

Don’t forget that.

~

“You know Captain, it is lonely being a god with no follower.”

“That’s a lie.” He replied bluntly. Avoiding the Dianite's eyes. Avoiding the topic. Avoiding the implied question. Avoiding the guilt. Because if he turned and faced it, gods it would hurt him. A god imprisoned, a new force arising - things were dissolving too quickly for him to repair. How could he bring balance alone, with only his goddess at his side? He just wanted help.

He was being offered the irresistible, because it was just that. He was being offered an escape. But to turn his back on his lady was unimaginable, impossible. No, he just had to put the guilt and the worry aside. He just had to work through it. Because he could work through it. He just had to.

Besides, why would the god say such a thing? He knew that he knew the zombie was only pretending to be loyal to Ianite. So why would he bother to lie? It didn’t seem right. He had spoken with too much sincerity for his liking. A god had to have a champion, right? So how could he pretend otherwise? It didn’t add up at all, and he knew he’d be able to work that out. What was his angle?

~

“It’s just a business deal.” He said hotly, his temper flaring. What was the issue the others saw? Why was it a problem to speak with another god?

Tom and Karl's laughter and teasing fueled his rising frustration. Why couldn’t they just understand? He was trying to fix things, yet all they did was to hold him back. He was shaking, he knew, but the pure anger he felt had to escape somehow. “I stand for my god, alright? I’m with my lady until the end. Say what you want, I’m not turning my back on her. I can talk to another god, okay? It’s not a big deal, so stop making it one.”

Silence met his outburst. The conversation took a quick turn, but the anger didn’t fade. No, it was still there, broiling and bubbling just under his skin. How dare they? How dare they laugh and make assumptions about him? All he was trying to do was make things better, make them balanced. He caught a glimpse of his hands, knuckles white from being clenched tightly. Tingling from a lack of circulation.

His muscles relaxed slightly as he heard the god’s familiar voice again, a low purr. “I’ll consider your offer.”

“Thanks, m’lord.” He mumbled instinctively. The words were out before he even knew it. But he didn’t try to ignore it, brush past it. It was just a formality, right? No real meaning behind it. The rush of heat in his veins meant nothing. The acrid scent of wood smoke and brimstone meant nothing.

Just a formality.

~

"Captain." Ianite's voice was so gentle. It always had been. "Do you have the stone?" Her gaze was searching, earnest. He pulled his eyes away, directing them towards the floor deferentially. At least, that's what he told himself. It had nothing to do with the fact that he couldn't bear to see the disappointment in her eyes. He couldn't bring himself to say anything, only responding with a small shake of his head.

"I see." She let out a long sigh. Disappointed, definitely, but… She stood from her simple throne, touching a slender finger to his cheek. Her touch was so different from his. The other god had skin that almost burned against his own, but hers was cool. Both soothing in their own way.

He mentally flicked the thoughts away, as distracting and unwelcome as gnats. "I won't say I understand why, Captain, but I will try to." Her words were a reprimand, despite the well meant intentions guiding them. She was too kind, too confident in him. 

"I'm sorry my lady, I tried but…" His voice trailed off, his head falling heavily against his chest.

"It'll be fine." She shifted her hand to lift his chin, forcing him to meet her eyes. Forcing him to see the comforting smile, the spark of mischief already dancing again. Reminding him again that he hadn't failed this one. Yet. "If you ever should have the opportunity of getting it again, I would recommend you use whatever means are necessary, mhm?"

"Of course m'lady."

"Good." She stepped back, beckoning for him to rise from where he still knelt. "Leave it in my temple, should you get it. You know where. I'll be waiting for you."

~

Whatever means are necessary, he repeated. Whatever it would take. The balance it would help bring would be worth it. That was what he wanted, wasn't it? Preserve the balance, protect his goddess.

She was looking weaker, she had said it herself. The stone would help her somehow. Surely any deal the other god would want to make in exchange for it would be worth it. He knew he had a few things the god wanted, the sword perhaps, or maybe the wand. He hated to give them up, but it was for a good reason, right? It was important.

Whatever means are necessary.

~

Dianite seemed amused by his approach. “Persistent, aren’t you?”

It was rhetorical, but he still nodded. “I know you want what I have.”

There was a curious glint in the god’s eyes, as he studied him. It put him on edge, told him he had something up his sleeve. Nothing new in that, thought. “Very well. I’ll give you the stone.”

“In exchange for the items?”

“No. Consider it… a gesture of goodwill.” The god smiled, an almost coy look on his face. That look definitely meant he wasn’t up to anything good.

“Uh huh, sure.” He crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes as he met the god’s gaze head on. “What’ll it really cost?”

“Your loyalty?”

He was already shaking his head resolutely the moment the words left the god’s mouth. “Hah, nope. I’m loyal to my lady, sorry.”

“Hmm.” The god hummed softly, tilting his head playfully. “Are you now? Well,” he let out a dramatic sigh, “I see how it is, I guess. Don’t worry, I fully support that decision.”

Jordan was taken aback by the sudden shift in the god’s tone. “Wait, what? Weren’t you literally just trying to convince me to join your team?” 

“I don’t need to convince you of anything. I know you’ll see the truth of the matter soon enough, my boy.” Dianite reached a hand out to ruffle his hair. It caught him off guard, leaving him unable to duck aside to avoid it. The touch sent a strange shock through his body, running through his nerves like an electric current. It was… it was like the first time he communicated with his lady. It had the same raw, potent energy to it. His eyes met the god’s, confusion and alarm written clearly across his features. A satisfied, almost smug look met him.

“So would you still like the stone?”

Whatever means are necessary.

His eyes fluttered shut for a long moment, unsure of whether he was dreading or eager to respond. He knew what his answer would be. To refuse would be to go against his word to his lady. He had to accept.

“Yes, I would,” he took a small breath of air to steady himself, “my lord.”

He took the stone in a surprisingly steady hand, tucking it into a pocket for safe keeping. He didn’t catch the small wisps of green smoke that curled around his hand as he did so. He was too distracted by the strong scent of wood smoke and brimstone.

~

The overworld smelled of rain soaked soil, a salty ocean breeze, sweet wheat growing in the field. The End smelled of a crisp morning, the static in the air before a storm, and the musty scent of dried lavender and thyme. The Nether smelled of smoldering brimstone, crackling fires, and sulfurous smoke.

The smell of each dimension clung to the champions of the respective gods, faint yet always present. They quickly became accustomed to the distinctive scents, grew capable of recognizing each other by them alone.

Jordan didn't notice at first, the new odors that clung to his possessions. It was only when Karl made an off hand comment, something about how Tom must've been hanging out around his place recently. He laughed it off in the moment, joking about how he couldn't get the zombie off his island. But he couldn't help taking small whiffs of his armor, his clothes, the contents of his chests. There was something off about it, a familiar smell mingling with the old. An uncomfortably familiar smell.

But it couldn't mean anything, could it?

next →

[20dollarlolita]

Pattern Review: McCall’s M7071, view B

Fitted blouse has collar, yoke, ruffles (very narrow hem), sleeve bands, puff sleeves, shaped hemline, and button trim.

Similar to these blouses:

Rose Button Stand Collar Blouse--Innocent World, 2017 Dessert Lacy Blouse--Angelic Pretty, 2018 Garçon Blouse--Alice and the Pirates, 2017

Easy parts:

There is no actual pattern manipulation necessary to make a workable lolita blouse. The instructions can be followed without any special instruction notes. The front yoke is a separate piece, which allows you to detail it before putting it into the blouse. This lets you apply trim much more easily. Instead of buttonholes, this has a back zip and decorative front buttons, which is faster to put in, and has less pressure to make it look good, because it’s in the back. There is still plenty of room to adjust this blouse to fit different lolita subtypes. The ruffles can easily be traded out with gathered lace to add detail and speed up the process of making the blouse.

The hard parts: Applying the yoke is applying an outside curve to an inside curve. This is kind of tricky, but the instructions explain it. The cutting guideline doesn’t tell you to use a different fabric for the inset, but shows the pattern with a different fabric for the inset.

Because of these major easys and minor hardsies, I categorize this as a beginner-friendly lolita/lolitable pattern. This is a pretty fast pattern. You will still need to choose good fabric and trims for this blouse, because bad fabric choice can ruin a good blouse pattern. 

Despite the different ways the technical artists chose to render the sleeves, this blouse is very close in design to the blouse in Simplicity 8444, especially worn under a JSK, but is much easier and faster to construct.

Unlike some of the other lolita patterns I’ve reviewed, I did actually make this one before reviewing it, so here’s some details.

First of all, as Lolibrary will tell you:

lolita blouses with back zippers don’t really exist.

However, a back zip blouse with a fake buttoning front is a lot easier to execute well when you’re newer to sewing (or in a hurry) and looks extremely similar. You’re going going to see Victorian Maiden putting out a blouse from this pattern, but if you see it under a JSK or tucked into a higher-waisted skirt, it’s not going to look wrong. If someone gets close enough to you to start judging your buttonholes, or their absence, the problem is not with their judgement of your blouse and it is about their lack of judgement regarding your personal space.

If you’re going to make this, I have the following advice: An easy way to add detail to this is to do the inset in a more detailed fabric or with a lace overlay, or to add vertical ruffles or lace to the inset before installing it. Swapping out their ruffles with gathered lace is another good way to up the detail level. Sewing the inset into the blouse is going to feel weird the first time you do it, because sewing an outside curve to an inside curve is hard. You’re going to need to clip your curves, and grade and understitch that area. (Scallop Hems post talks about grading and clipping and understitching) Take time to make sure your collar isn’t uneven. They might not tell you to sew down the back end by hand to make sure your stitching is invisible, but you probably want to, anyway. Your collar is right next to your face, so it’s the easiest part for people to notice if it’s wrong.

If you’re experienced with sewing from patterns and want to get into modifying patterns, this is a great one to start with! Add tucks and a faux placket to the inset, and add a small ruffle to the collar and the sleeve bands. Since this collar doesn’t have a front opening, adding a ruffle or lace will be a lot easier since there aren’t tough turns to navigate.

Anyway, here’s a blouse that I think is a really good one for handmade lolita, and that might be missed otherwise since it’s in such an odd pattern set.

[miriredsteel]

Through the Looking Glass Pt. 1 - An Old “Friend”

Pain. 

Agony.

Torment.

Darkness…   

Fear. Fear beyond measure. Terror that was so deep it felt infinite, never ending...and ancient.

    The world was blurred, fuzzy...as if awakening from a long night of drinking heady wine. A strange, deep thrumming seemed to constantly be present within the realm of sound, the sort of deep base that reached deep into your guts and set panic to galloping through the blood. And the bite of cold, the sting of copper in the nose, as if surrounded by dried blood...it was all overpowering, and yet it was nearly impossible to drag one’s awareness up from whatever depths she’d fallen into.

    A groan escaped her throat as the fingers of unconsciousness slowly released her, awareness sinking in like a blade into flesh. Confusion joined the strange panic thumping in her veins; where was she? What had happened? She couldn’t-

    With a chink, Miri tried to move, to stand, to roll over but something stopped her. Her arms were held out from her by dark, cold chains, their weight evident upon her delicate wrists. The feel of the cold metal then became apparent around her neck as a great choking collar that sat to keep her head forcibly upright. A large shackle sat around her waist, which was then chained to the ground, keeping her kneeling on the cold, dark stone.

    “Wha….?” She asked groggily to no one, her mind still trying to come back to her.

    As her eyesight adjusted further, she saw bars surrounding her, the same sort of metal as her chains. All around her was that horrible thrumming, like a river, except whatever was rushing was certainly not any water she’d ever heard. And the screams...the screams were the most wretched and tortured sounds she’d ever heard. Each one seemed to shoot through her like an arrow, making her gasp and lurch in physical pain.

    My mental wards- She thought, feeling the panic spike in her chest.

    “Oh you’ll find those chains are quite unbreakable, dearie,” A deep, throaty, voice practically purred from somewhere to the Lady’s right.

    Something in the cadence of speech, in the saccharinely sweet “dearie”, made a shiver spider walk up Miri’s spine. Familiar. It seemed so familiar and yet she couldn’t seem to place where she knew it from. The shackle at her neck kept her from turning to look at the person speaking, causing pain to shoot through her neck when she tried.

    The voice tittered, followed by the soft padding of well made shoes walking across a hard stone floor, accompanied by the gentle swishing of silky fabric.

    “Do try not to struggle too much, dearie. You’ll only hurt yourself further,” The voice was so sweet, so filled with the mimicry of concern you’d almost have believed it. Almost, except for the razor edge that seemed to crawl along the underside of each sugar coated word.

    Giving up on the movement, Miri instead let her eyes dart to her periphery, finally able to glimpse through the bars the figure speaking before her. The figure was tall; much taller than any human she’d have known, with ashen grey skin and long, white hair that had been coiffed up into an elaborately braided updo around their head. Their face was wide and round, like their figure, and almost abundantly so. Long, pointed ears gently peered out from beneath the elaborate hairdo, dangling with gaudy gold and red bangles, while a deep red ruby pendant hung around their throat and into the valley of a ponderous chest. 

    The gown they wore was of dark wine reds, deep coal greys and white ruffles, finely made and perfectly tailored. Their hands were folded neatly at their waist, long dark nails that shone in the strange light, seeming both perfectly manicured and deadly. 

    Familiar…     “It really is quite rude to stare, Lady Redsteel,” The figure chided gently, as if they were a teacher and Miri a naughty student. Something about it made the Lady’s blood boil. “Or is it Clearwater once more? I can hardly keep track these days.”

    “What...do you want with me?” Miri bit at her, regretting even that short question; her throat felt as if she had swallowed sand, dry and scorched.

    The figure tittered again, the sound once more sending chills up Miri’s spine.

    “Oh all in due time, dearie, all in due time.” They answered before reaching through the bars to tilt Miri’s chin upwards.

    The figure -a woman surely- had blood red eyes that bored into Miri in such a way that she was certain she was trying to peer into her very soul. A row of sharp teeth gleamed in the eerie light as she seemed satisfied with what she saw, before releasing the Lady’s face.

    “For now...it is my great honor to welcome you to your new home for the foreseeable future,” The woman purred, the wretched joy eeking out of her feeling like oil over Miri’s flesh. She felt sick. “I do believe you are going to be an excellent addition here.”

    “Where…?” Miri began, again, regretting the question. Light she’d have done anything for-

    A canteen was suddenly pressed roughly to her lips before her head was tilted back and cool, clean water poured down her throat. The relief it brought was short lived as the clawed hand that forced her head back gripped at her hair viciously and forced her to drink without a breath. It wasn’t long before Miri was choking, spitting up the water and coughing it out of her nose, nearly drowning in it.

    “Now now, dearie, you’ve had a very trying journey, you really must save your energy,” The woman cooed, malice dripping in every word. “Can’t have you collapsing from exhaustion before your first session, now can we?”

    Miri could only sputter and cough in an attempt to breathe. The woman laughed; it seemed so childish and yet the sheer joy she took in Miri’s suffering made her flush with fury.

    “As to where you are, well I suppose you were rather addled upon arrival. Didn’t even put up a fight when we shackled you,” The woman gave her chains a shake for good measure, the motion sending waves of pain through Miri’s arms and neck. “And you did put up quite a fight with the Forsworn; they reported that they nearly dropped you five times with how much you were kicking and screaming, till you passed out...oh...somewhere over the Maw? I suppose the change in planes just got to your little head,”

    Miri felt the blood drain from her face. “...the...the Maw?”

    Again, that horrible, high pitched tittering. “Oh you silly little goose. That’s just where you came through, not where you are,”

    The woman seemed to take delight in Miri’s confusion and fear. “I...I don’t-”

    “Where the veil was broken, so now stands a door,” The woman raised her hand with a flourish to the ceilings of whatever horrible place they were in. “A door...to my new existence. And your new home.”

    Once more, those clawed hands tilted her head up so Miri could look the woman eye to eye. The intense malice and hatred she felt in her gaze was painful and it made Miri weak.

    “No…” Miri gasped, feeling tears sting at her tired eyes.

    “Yes!” The woman responded, overjoyed. “Revendreth will surely make good use of you, dearie. And I for one am honored to be your warden.

    “Now, I really must be going, Lord Denathrius is expecting me. But before I do,” The woman stood up to her full height and gave Miri a horrid smile, like that of a predator that was eager to play with their food. “A little taste of what’s to come.”

    She reached out her clawed hand, the ruby pendant at her throat glowing with a horrible, red light. Dark, blood red energy coalesced around her fingers and swirled to a point at Miri’s chest, the Lady helpless to stop its approach. Upon reaching her, Miri lurched, feeling all the air rush out of her.

    Pain.

    Agony.

    Torment.

    Every regret, every mistake, every sorrow she’d ever known was suddenly rendered in painfully stark detail and wrenched from her very soul. A horrible scream rent the air as she saw the look in her children’s eyes as she was spirited away, the last moment Dev walked away from her, the expression on Rhett’s face as he was led away to the gallows, the weight of Aldarion’s body as he died in her arms.

    “Yes, Mirianda,” The woman’s voice seemed to fill her head, purring and cloyed and malicious. “You will relive every single horrible thing you didn’t stop, every mistake you lived to regret. And I will reap that suffering as a scythe reaps the grain.”

    It was only then Miri realized the scream was her own, tearing at her throat with such pain and agony she was certain she would die from it. The woman seemed to be pulling her suffering straight from the center of her soul and into her hands before it seemed to slowly coalesce into the ruby pendant.

    When the pain finally stopped, Miri fought to keep from blacking out, though oblivion would’ve been a relief, a mercy. Instead, she clung to her consciousness, her breath shaky and arduous, trembling from head to toe. Every part of her ached, and a deep throb of despair seemed to have blossomed where her heart was.

    “Aaah...delicious,” The woman hummed, curling her hands and sighing as if she’d just taken a sip of fine wine. “His lordship will be pleased.

    “Do get some rest, dearie,” The woman then turned on her heel with a flourish as two massive metal doors swung open by an unseen force. Miri tried to look outside, to get a bearing on her surroundings, but her head still spun with the attempt to even stay conscious.

    “I want you well rested for your first...real...purging,” Her final words were heavy as the doors shut behind her with a metal clang and Miri was left alone in her cell.

    Reality seemed to be suspended for a few brief moments, before the screams around her once again began to claw at her mind, tearing open her own freshly created pain and exacerbating it. Gritting her teeth, the Lady tried to fight off the sorrow, the despair, the hopelessness.

    But she was so weak...so tired…

    Alone, confused and frightened...Mirianda wept, her cries joining with the countless lost souls within ruins of Revendreth, drowned out in the cacophony of suffering and torment. Just another agonized soul to add to the oppressed creatures within the decaying landscape.

[sai-teru]

Together with you

Chapter 3: We are your friends, you can count on us too!

Summary: What if, on chapter 271/272 of the manga where Saiki removes his left hairpin device. The device that once removed... people of the world will know of his psychic ability. And what if, when he removes that device, it did really shows all over the world about Saiki being a psychic user? And that shocked even Kuusuke because he thought he de-activated it a long time ago. I want to start the story from that point on.

And by the way, this is a SaiTeru fanfic so what I'm saying is... the story will focus on both of them. We will see what their relationship goes. I'll stick to the manga's story as much as possible but of course, all scene will not be exactly as what the manga/anime goes.

Warning: And also, spoilers for those who's just starting to read the manga or watching anime. If you just started and saw this story because you ship Saiki and Teruhashi then you'll be spoiled. Just a warning for you guys but, if you don't care about spoilers... then go ahead and read this story of mine.

Disclaimer: All characters are not mine they belong to Asou Shuuichi-Sensei.

Chapter 1 | chapter 2 

kindly leave a review. Enjoy!

Chapter 3: We are your friends, you can count on us too!

Eyes widening in shock seeing Saiki o-so-sudden, she stuttered “S-Sa-Saiki-kun”

E… I didn't expect to see Saiki-kun so fast. Oh my God! How do I look?? Ah… seriously…

Bewildered at the sudden appearance of the certain guy she really and badly wants to see. Her thoughts are running wild.

While Teruhashi was busy with her thoughts alone, Saiki mused.

Yare, yare! Placing his hands on his hips as he glowered tiredly. He glances at her Mom signaling her to go on and he’ll talk to Teruhashi alone.

Her Mom obliges silently as she excuses herself.

“I'll go to the kitchen for a while, I’ll leave you to youngster alone.” Tapping Teruhashi”s shoulder that made her half-shrug as it registers to her slowly what Kurumi uttered.

“Ah! Yes, sure Auntie.  If you need help let me know!” Teruhashi smiled awkwardly.

Kurumi shaking her head in disapproval “No need Kokomi-chan, you need to talk to Ku-chan, right? I can handle it alone.” She said that made the pretty girl beside her blush madly.

A sudden discomfort enveloping  the pretty girl as she complies “Y-yes Auntie.”

By that, Kurumi walk-out leaving the two behind. Once Kurumi is nowhere in sight Saiki gestures for her to follow him and Teruhashi oblige obediently although she was nervous as heck.

This is it… I’m alone with Saiki-kun, this is the time for Offu- Slapping her face, Iya… No, no, no, What the heck are you thinking Kokomi? this is not the time for offu, I need to speak with Saiki-kun

mumbling to herself without realizing that the guy in her thought knows what she was thinking.

Sighing in grief. Yare, yare… this is troublesome. How can I make her believe that I’m just a normal guy? So she can leave!

Is what running in his thought.

Both were uneasy about their thoughts as they arrive at Saiki's room, he let Teruhashi walks in first.

I’m at Saiki-kun's room. Just the two of us! Oh! My God… am I blushing? No, no I shouldn’t blush… Relax Kokomi, you need to calm

Arguing to herself as she struggles to calm down and Saiki, on the other hand, was starting to get annoyed.

Yare, yare… how can we even talk if she’s busy complaining about herself? And what the hecks with offu? I’m not saying it. I should just make her leave! I don’t even know what to say!

Saiki was also uneasy to make the move. However, he gestures to Teruhashi that brought her back to reality to sit on the bed as he sat on his armchair facing her.

Teruhashi was fidgeting for a moment, thinking of ways to start the conversation, because the psychic himself was just staring boringly at her with his signature dead-pan expression which unsettled her.

What’s with him? I cannot believe this! we’re just alone and he’s not doing anything….

After realizing what she thought. She felt chills run down her spine as her face reddens at her thoughts and making more excuses for herself.

Wah… wah… what am I thinking?? What I meant was, he should talk to me first. Yes, that’s what I mean. Don’t get me wrong!

Arguing with her inner thought without even knowing that the guy in front of her can read her mind.

Sighing in frustration How can we even start if she’s like that. Yare, yare

Okay, Kokomi relax.

taking a deep breath she glances at Saiki. Heart racing speedily “Saiki-kun” she called and Saiki stared at her with his dead-pan expression.

“I-I’m here to ask… no to confirm somethin-“

Is it about the news?

he cut of Teruhashi and finish what she’s about to say.

She was taken by surprise at how he just said the words she was having a hard time letting out. She coughs to ease the situation as she composed herself. Taking a deep breath, and stared at Saiki.

Nodding in agreement “Yes, that’s it. I mean, I… no! we want to confirm it to you… we’ll believe at whatever you’ll say!” grasping her hands tightly and her heart was beating fast as she waits for his answer.

Then what if, that rumor was true? What if, I am a psychic. What will you do?

Asking in commandment which Teruhashi was taken aback.

Silence took over her, she opens her mouth to answer but no words were heard.

This … how should I answer that? I don’t want it to be true but… but…

While she’s busy with her thoughts alone unbeknownst to her, the psychic was also troubled at what she was thinking but, of course, being a tsundere himself his denying the thoughts.

As I thought, of course, who would want a person like me! I'm not normal.

Lowering his head as his eyebrows furrowed, without his knowledge, he felt sad no he felt troubled. He was feeling sad but because of his nature, that feeling is unfamiliar to him. He shrugs it off and began to sigh in dismay as he grins.

Yare, yare! What’s with these uneasy feelings?

Annoyed at the unknown feeling he had. He chuckled at how ridiculous he looks right now and started to ruffled his hair in dismayed. He began to look back at Teruhashi to check on her again and to explain that it was just a hypothesis without any meaning so he can cast her out of his house. But, unexpectedly, the thought that lingering on the bishoujo's mind bewildered Saiki that he was stunned in silence as he stared dumbfounded at her.

No. Kokomi don’t be scared. It was just a what-if question. Then if he really was a psychic? What should I do in this kind of situation? Should I be afraid, scared? No. I shouldn’t judge him base on that fact. I mean he’s not that bad, right? If he was a bad guy, an enemy of mankind then, at this moment on I’m sure this is not how our lives exist?”

The thought alone was enough to that make Saiki stunned. He was shocked that his mouth was slightly agape.

I should ask him again… whatever it takes, I’m here to comport him not to judge him. I need to compose myself. Whatever his answer will be… I will be okay and I’ll wait for an explanation. I’m sure there is one.

While the pretty girl in their class was busy with her thoughts. The psychic on the other hand was grinning to himself as he watched the troubled girl in front of him.

Yare, yare… I should come clean! Whatever, I was ready to be known by everyone when I took of this device, including them. I should tell them!

sighing in contentment. He was now ready to face them… and her. This moment on, he was ready to speak the truth. Whether or not they'll accept him. But deep within his heart he really wants them to accept him.

When he was about to talk to her by a telepathic, Teruhashi spoke first as she called him.

“Saiki-kun” she called staring at Saiki's eyes with a determined expression.

While Saiki wore his deadpan expression as he watches her.

This is it, inhale and exhale kokomi. boosting her self-esteem. Clenching the fabric of her uniform to calm her nerves.

“What… wh- I mean” she stumbled upon saying her first words. Feeling embarrass. She took a deep breath and sighed. “You said earlier that, what if you are a psychic; is that really true or are you just-“

I’m a PSYCHIC

Without wasting any more seconds he blurted out telepathically to the girl in front of him. He didn’t even finish what she’s about to say, and so the bishoujo was statically rendered speechless, with her eyes wide open, mouth agape and even her mind was silent or just saying WA WA WA at the moment, and that made the psychic grin at her reaction.

What the… did… Saiki-kun… did I hear it right?

Staring at the pink-headed boy for another confirmation.

I’m a Psyc-

This time, it was Teruhashi who didn’t let him finished, as she was panicking internally. And convincing herself she heard it all wrong.

No, no, no… this is not true what the… I mean, Saiki-kun is a Psyc… NOOOOO

Facing down, she covered her whole face with both of her hands as she shook her head madly.

Is it? Sa-Saiki-kun? P-p-p-psychic??? NOOOOO, what… Kokomi get a grief!

Slowly opening some of her fingers that hiding her finger to glance at the pink-headed boy; checking his face confirming something. But as soon as she saw his face. Her cheeks took a dip shade of red.

Wa… why am I getting flustered?? This is not the time to admire. Gosh!

The perfectionist pretty girl was having a hard time organizing her mind that the psychic himself is getting amused to it.

Sighing to himself, Yare, yare this girl is too troublesome!

Groaning unsatisfied but the truth is, he was having a good time seeing a flustered Teruhashi although, he saw it gazillion times already so he was immune to it. Nevertheless, this is the first for the girl in front of him.

He suddenly had the urge to teased the girl more. Grinning at his selfish whims rather, his amusement.

Are you done with your thought?

Asking the blunette o-so-sudden that she shrug upon hearing his voice. Correction through the telepathic way.

Still organizing herself, fixing her hair as she eyed the psychic suspiciously. She coughs to ease the mood

“ehem…” “You said earlier that you’re a psychic? How can you—”

How can I prove it to you… is what you want to say, right?

Again, for the second time, the perfectionist pretty girl was stunned in silence. Mouth agape, confused, bewildered and when it dawned on her what Saiki stated. She jumped on his bed, shock written all over her face with a feeling of mix emotion. Struggling to find her words to respond to him, she breathes slowly to muster some courage to speak while pointing her finger unto him.

“Y-you…” with shaking voice. “Yo-you can read my mind?” eyes wide open and guarding herself in case of something as she stared at Saiki anxiously.

Sighing for the umpteenth time, Yare, yare how troublesome! He thought for the moment as he cast his head down.

You were the one who wants me to confess, right? As I said I’m a psychic, I’m not a normal human being like you guys.

He groaled for some reason as he started to look back at her just to see how anxious the girl was and how her thought was running through her mind. Again, he felt that nasty feeling he had a while ago. His hands tightened into a fist.

Tsk… he moaned grumpily. He jumped out on his seat grumpily as he rammed his hair out of annoyance.

Meanwhile, Teruhashi stiffened at his sudden movement. She began to tighten her hold on the blanket. But, when, she got a glimpse of how he looks; she quickly softened and felt dismayed at her sudden approach to the situation, she promised herself that whatever she'll hear from the psychic himself she will never change the fact that he was a good guy.

But looking at her now, staring at the bedsheet with a disappointed look, and reflecting on how she acts in front of him. She places her hands on the fabric of her uniform near her beating heart. Again, she glances at the discomfort psychic to check on him and to also said something to erase the unwanted air roaming at the room.

Inhaling and exhaling, she called the pinkish head boy. “Sa-Saiki-kun”

Peeking at her halfhearted You don’t need to stress about it. I mean… I was expecting that kind of reaction.

As soon as that escape from him, the girl’s eyes went wide… listening carefully at what he was about to say.

As what your mind is telling, yes. I’m a bad guy, I have the means to control everyone with just a snap. Even now, if I wanted to… I can erase your memory of what happened this instant. And you will never know, even if you turn grey. I can read your thoughts loud and clear and I say… your reaction is what I’m expectin—

Slamming her hands on the bed, “Yes, you’re right! I was scared! I was really scared when I’ve learned about you over the internet, news or whatever… but still, I don’t want to believe a second of it unless you’re the one to clarify it.”

And yet, I did clarify it. But your reaction is splendid. You even thought I was a monster….

Clenching the bedsheet tightly “Of course, what do you want me to think? Who in their right mind would think that a psychic even exist? I’m just a normal human being. And as you said earlier, my reaction was what you’re expecting… how do you want me to react then? Ne Saiki-kun…”

With their exchange words… Teruhashi felt even worse to herself at how stupid she was acting and how confused she was as well. And now, she was sobbing nonstop. She was fighting not to let it out a while ago but, she was hurt that she can’t help but to let it all out.

On the other hand, the psychic felt uneasy as soon as he saw her crying. He felt tense, he didn’t even know nor have a clue on what to do as he was unfamiliar with that kind of thing. So, he let her do her thing and wait till she calms down, he sat on his armchair again scratching his cheeks out of discomfort.

And as soon as Teruhashi calms down, she darted her eyes at the guy in front to face him for another confrontation.

Sniffing “I-… I want to apologize for my earlier assumption towards you!” she said to the young psychic that made his face snorted.

“Really… I’m at wrong to judge you but hey… at the very end of it, I’m just a normal human…”

Actually, your not! He blurted out that made the pretty girl eyed him suspiciously.

Groaning tiredly, I mean… you can order all your admirer. But, Not me. All you want without expecting or some of them were expecting from you in return. He explained further.

Teruhashi only stared at him with confusion until she realized what he meant. At that, she boasted from laughter. Now the tears streaming down her face were not because of irritation or sadness but pure happiness and surprise.

Eyebrows furrowed in confusion, confused as to why she was laughing. Because, to Saiki, he is sure that he didn’t add some jokes on his remarks so, seeing her laugh like that was confusing to him.

Teruhashi who’s laughing nonstop was now pressing her hand over her stomach while the other was wiping her happy tears.

Saiki was just staring dumbfounded at her. And now, Teruhashi took a deep breath but her laughter was still visible enough that she can now speak normally again. She stared at her classmate and for the last time chuckled which the latter raised an eyebrow at how confused he was.

“Okay, okay, this is quite embarrassing.” Wiping her tears,  “Now that I realize it more… you mentioned you can read my mind?” he quickly nods as he waited for her to finished her words this time.

“T-then… you know all my thoughts. I mean, running through my mind all this time?”

Saiki nodding at her, while Teruhashi is flustered and some pinkish hues appearing on her cheeks up to her ears.

“Then…” gulping nervously while playing with her index fingers “Then… you probably already know what… I mean, you know my feelings,—”

No, you got it wrong! He blurted out that made the girl flinch.

“What do you mean by I got it wrong?” she asked the psychic.

Well, this is the right time to tell her that misunderstanding. Since she knows now that I’m a psychic? That way, her feelings for me will vanish!

Nodding approvingly at his plan he looks back at pretty girl adored by God.

You remember the time when… I should say, August 6

At the mention of that unforgettable moment for her, her body stiffened her heart was beating fast as she waited what exactly was what he wants to convey.

That day, We did meet. I was walking down the street when you suddenly approach me. I was doing my very best to avoid you no matter. And also because I don’t want to be exposed to a lot of people who greatly admires you, and so being noticed by you will beat the purpose of it. But, you’re persistent. And so suddenly, I saw Nendou from the corner of my eyes and I got tensed because if a second party is involved then that means… you can easily say we did meet and all that and so, once I saw Nendou and before he notices me or us together at that time I teleported myself that instant. And I was really shocked when you thought that you like me… that’s why you thought you were hallucinating me.

Once he was done explaining, random thoughts were running through Teruhashi's mind. Forgetting that her companion can read minds.

You know I can read your mind, right?

Startled yet again, she flinches at the sudden voice from him.

Stumbling through her words as she says. “O-oh yeah. I forgot! Seriously this is embarrassing…

As soon as that escape her mind. Saiki rose from his seat and walk over to his drawer to get something, she was just staring and also at the same time admiring the guy and because of her day-dreaming, she didn’t notice Saiki was walking towards her.

Here take this…

Raising his arm to Teruhashi's eye level as he handed over something to her and she took it. Raising her eyebrows in curiosity as she looks at what he gave to her.

As soon as she saw it… her eyes glitter as she was now blushing madly…

A… a ring?? Saiki gave me a—

Before she manages to finish her words Saiki corrected her before she took it the wrong way.

Don’t get your hopes up! That ring, wear it so I won’t be able to read your mind.

He said nonchalantly which the pretty girl sighed in dismay.

“Oh! Sure” she stared at it first, asking herself if that small thing can hide her thoughts from the psychic accompanying her.

Yare, yare… Saiki thought for a while.

That’s a germanium ring… at that, Teruhashi looked at him attentively.

Wear that, if your feeling uneasy about me reading your thoughts all the time. Even though I can’t help it… then wear the ring.

He explained. And without any thought, she wore it on her index finger feeling some butterfly on her stomach as she stared on the germanium ring that Saiki owned admiringly. Giggling to herself, and by that, a certain psychic felt shivers run down his spines and wondering what nonsense thoughts are lingering on her mind.

Thus, Teruhashi tried if the ring he gave is working. Eyeing suspiciously at her companion.

Okay then, let see… rubbing her chin. Shutting her eyes close I love you Saiki-kun blushing madly, slowly opening her left eye to check on Saiki’s expression, and as soon as she saw him; his expression still didn’t change. He still wore that bored look on his face.

To Saiki's case, he was having a withdrawal if he should really give that thing to the most troublesome woman he knows. And also, looking back at her, as soon as she wore the ring he saw how she was rather acting strange. It was making him uneasy. Moreover, her face was now in a dip shade of red.

The heck is she thinking this time? I hope it's not something so troublesome. Yare, yare… sighing tiredly.

he’s not answering me? did that work? He really can’t read my mind? What if… his just taking advantag- No, no, no Kokomi Saiki is nothing like that! Erase that thought. Shu shu… for now, I’ll believe in him.

Again, arguing with herself as Saiki was just staring at her dumbfounded.

Yare, yare… sighing tiredly

So… what else do you want to know? He asked which brought her back to reality.

Stunned for a moment. She took a deep breath and composed herself.

“Then… now that I confirm with myself that you really are what the news is saying then… we need to device a plan so that, we can… I mean, you can avoid this situation!” rubbing her chin as she thinks of a plan to help Saiki.

Starring at her with his bored look he asked, Then how can you help me?

Taken aback, she tilted her head to think of something. “I’m not really sure myself since… I went here believing or wishing that all the news spreading on the internet was fake.” Bowing her head apologetically. “I’m sorry Saiki-kun, but…”

Bending over Saiki's bed as she slammed her hands on his bedsheet that startled the psychic.

“If you’ll let us… we can help you by all means. We’re not capable of helping you with how you help us but, if you…”

At that moment Teruhashi went silent. A sudden realization hoards her mind at the word help, she suddenly remembers all the times that somehow made their life a living hell if Saiki didn’t save them. An example of that, on their school trip, when they can’t go to Okinawa because it was raining hard. Second, when they were inside the plane and suddenly went wrong, lastly when she was about to be attacked by a giant bear and all this time she thought that it was just a dream. She realized then, all of those were because Saiki saves them and her from danger. And another thought of tragedy surges her mind, and that event was when Saiko's shipwrecks and they got stranded by an unknown island. They were safe because Saiki was with them and he was helping silently without asking anything in return. There is still good deed that Saiki manages to do for them. And that alone, made her disgust at herself thinking badly of him a while ago.

Slowly, tears are flowing in her beautiful blue eyes. And Saiki got startled at her sudden action. Again, he felt discomfort not knowing what to do in this awkward situation.

Why are you crying? Asking the girl timidly.

Teruhashi, on the other hand, wipes her tears away and looks at Saiki as she smiled at him warmly and genuinely.

“I was thinking… you said earlier you were a bad guy and all but, now that I’ve realized it… you’re not! Not an enemy of mankind, not a monster and all bad things I’ve thought of you a while ago. Again, I’m really sorry about that Saiki-kun.” Bowing her head apologetically to the psychic as he stared at her with his deadpan expression but he was confused since he can’t read her mind. He was anxious to know what is running through her mind right now and why is she acting so strange?

He wanted to know that answer but doesn’t want to ask… he saw her change stance, now with her feet touching on the floor, seating properly again as she held her hands tightly placing it on her lap.

Smiling at him. “Thank you Saiki-kun, you save us a bunch of times already” again, bowing her head but this time not to ask for forgiveness but to thank him whole-heartedly for the good deeds he showed them without their knowledge at the time.

What are you saying? Asking the bishoujo because he was really confused and unsettled at how she was behaving.

“You save us multiple times already. Remember that school trip? A lot happened back then. Also, most especially the shipwreck. Because you were there—”

Oh, that! Well, particularly it was my fault. All of it! He said as a matter of fact.

Teruhashi tilted her head out of confusion to what he said.

“What do you mean?” asked bewildered.

Scratching his chin. Well, particularly, It was mine but also your fault as well.

With that, the pretty girl got more confused.

“What!!!!” she grimaced.

You took of this device. Pointing at his device. You see when you pulled this out tragedy may occur. When that giant bear nearly attacks you… you got in that place because you took off my controlling device. I was the one who teleports you in that place without my knowledge. And about the shipwreck… well, it seems you get the geese now hah?

He explained neatly as possible so she can understand him and to not cause any more misunderstanding.

While hearing all that explanation she swallowed hard.

Oh, I see!

Is what she can manage to say. Although, now, she understood everything.

“I understand. But still, my feelings won’t change. Even after all that, you still save us. And yet I need to apologize again for the stupidity I've caused. Well, you can't blame me; at that moment I just wanted to help you relax so you can sleep in a much better way. I didn’t know your circumstances back then.” Smiling as if everything is settled now.

“Look Saiki-kun, if you can… we really wanted to help you! Please, let us… let us help you in any way we can.” She pleaded the young psychic with her signature puppy-dog-eyes. Well, that didn’t faze the boy as he was just staring at her with his bored-looking expression. She sighs in defeat.

Sheesh… I really can’t please this guy hah? Should I give up? Sighing to herself as she took a deep breath and waited for his answer.

They still don’t know the thing about me! So how sure are you that they’ll accept me, the true me? He interrogated the girl without any interest in mind what answer she’ll say.

“Saiki-kun, don’t belittle them… if I can accept you…  The real you. Then, I’m certain they can too. I mean… we are your friends, right?” smiling warmly at the guy with his eyes slightly wide open.

He grins knowing that what Teruhashi stated was true. He was sure that whatever it takes they will accept him for who he was.

He rose from his seat and walks over to his window, staring blankly at what was outside. While Teruhashi was eyeing his every move. Until Saiki spoke again of course in a telepathic way. She was attentively listening to whatever he was about to say.

Yare, yare. Then… do whatever you all want! You all are troublesome anyway!

Still staring at the window absentmindedly as a grin appeared on his face. He was feeling satisfied as of now and for some reason, was it because of her? Well, he is a tsundere so basically, he doesn’t want to admit that even for himself. For now.

Meanwhile, Teruhashi giggled at the thought she succeeded at persuading Saiki and can give good news for everyone tomorrow as school starts. They need to establish a plan to help Saiki be just a normal human being again for the others so they can still hang out with him and knowing him fully well; aside from him being a psychic.

Still giggling. She also rose from the bed and walks over where Saiki is, she steps beside him and also looks over the window.

“Yeah, leave it to us!” She excitedly exclaimed which the latter grins as a response. Glancing at him made Teruhashi blush and she felt good at the moment and wishing that this day will never end.

Again, she tried to talk to him through her mind because she knows very well that he can’t hear her. She looks back at the window and smiled with satisfaction.

I love you Kusuo.

-End of Chapter 3-

____________________________________________________________

Note:

OMG guys... I would like to apologize that in the previous chapter, I made some sort of mistake and I'm sure all of you notice it! All this time I thought his name was mentioned "Kobayasu" but instead it was "Kuboyasu" arrrrrrg.... Seriously this is embarrassing.

also, because I didn't had the chance to upload a new chapter last week, and to make it up for it... I'll give you a long-ass chapter this time.

And so, the extra note is done. I hope all of you will like this Saiki and Teruhashi interaction. There will still be more in the future. So stay tuned. 👋

[unlockthelore]

Recharge

After a long day at school and fulfilling his duties as a Keyblade Master, Riku just needed to relax and Kairi was the perfect person to help him do that. Part of the Beyond the Horizon series on Ao3. For more updates, follow the beyond the horizon tag on this blog.

Riku was exhausted.

The day had been jam-packed from morning to afternoon — too much talking, school assignments needing to be excused, and disputes between inhabitants of other worlds confused on where he’d come from and how he could help them in their time of need.

Due tomorrow, bared down his throat with a snide glance from his homeroom teacher as a thin packet of papers were shoved into his hands.  Exhaustion and agitation mingled into an unpleasant taste on his tongue. If not for a timely save by Kairi, assuring it would be on their teacher’s desk by the first bel, Riku felt he might’ve said something that would even make the Heartless cower. To his relief, her arm slipped into the crook of his own as she pulled him through the halls of their school.

Needless to say, Riku was dead on his feet when they stepped outside. The sky tinted a pinkish-red, almost reminded him of her hair, and the light dancing at the back of his eyelids when he closed them. After he nearly tripped over a sand dune and a plank in a bridge, Kairi slowed to walk by his side, her arm tucked around his waist and their school bags held in her hand as he slung an arm around her shoulders. He wasn’t sure what he said, distracted by the sweet scent in her hair, and bitter warmth of a biting summer afternoon.

But Kairi giggled and squeezed his hip, muttering a soft, “You’re welcome, Riku.”

Home wasn’t a bad place to be. His mom, emerging from her workshop to answer the door, welcomed him with a little ruffle to the hair as she chatted with Kairi. Riku stumbling on lead feet to the kitchen and cracking open the freezer, thankful for the cool air blasting in his face, until he noticed something was missing.

“Mom!” He called, shoving over a few chocobo ice-cream cups and a box of moogle beef patties. “Did we have any more sea salt ice cream?”

After a brief pause, his mother shouted back, “Did you check the freezer?”

“Yeah!” Riku sighed mentally, wondering where else would he have looked.

“Remind me to put it on the list!”

Riku sighed and snapped the freezer shut with a rubbery slam. He could’ve sworn that he had one left over.

Can’t blame Sora for taking it.

A pang of hurt shuttered his eyes at the thought and he pressed his forehead to the door, attempting to will it away. He must have lingered longer than he thought because a comforting hand wrapped around his wrist and pulled him from the kitchen. Even with his eyes closed, darkness surrounding him, Kairi’s light was a small beacon unable to be ignored with its radiance. He opened his eyes to see her climbing the steps with his own feet clunking behind as he tried to match her pace.

“I’ll bring you both some snacks later,” his mom called from downstairs but the heavy thud of her workshop’s door told him later would be a ways away.

Nevertheless, he was grateful to hear the whirring of machines and loud knock of her hammer against wood. The islands couldn’t have asked for a better shipwright though he wasn’t looking forward to what she made with the help of Chip and Dale.

“Riku, are you okay?” Kairi asked, looking back to him as she pushed open the door to his room.  He resisted the urge to shield his eyes from the light slanting through the wide semi-circle windows along the north and west wall of his room.

After his return, he’d taken down the deep blue curtains rendering his room dark and cool. He had done his best to ignore his mother’s audible sigh and look of relief when he folded them and set them inside a box at the bottom of the linen closet.

Kairi squeezed his hand. “You’ve been zoning out all day…”

Fighting back a grimace, Riku tried for his best smile. “Just tired is all.”

Her brows pulled together and from the quick once-over, he knew she wasn’t convinced but seemed to let it go, releasing his arm to flop on his futon. The deep blue sheets rippled around her like water, a paopu plush he’d gotten years ago hugged to her chest. “Well, we’ll finish our homework quick, and then you can take a nap, yeah?”

Nudging the door shut with a kick of his heel, Riku grumbled an affirmative, shuffling across the ombre sea-green carpet to his desk where he collapsed into his spinning chair. It rocked a little from side to side, burdened with his weight but Kairi’s giggle when he spun about was worth knocking his knee against his desk drawers. She tossed him his school bag and he shuffled about for the homework sheets, grimacing at the sheer number but setting to work.

If anyone asked him, he’d take an army of Heartless over schoolwork.

A thought that grew more appealing by the second as he blanked on the same problem six times over, deciding to abandon his books in a huff. His laptop pushed to one side of his desk and papers strewn about, pencil lying haphazardly amidst a cluster of eraser shavings. Tossing his head back, Riku glanced aside to find Kairi hard at work, absorbed with scribbling across the paper. She still held the plush in her lap, squished between her textbook serving as a makeshift writing desk. The tip of her tongue poked out the side of her lips, brows furrowed in concentration. Although Riku wasn’t sure how comfortable it was to be hunched over as she worked, he had to admit she pulled it off.

Idly spinning from one side to the other, his mind kept wandering from one thought to the other. Too awake to be tired but too tired to function. Pushing up from his chair, he let it roll away from him as he climbed up to sit on his bed, slipping his legs on either side of Kairi’s waist and his arms around her middle. The sun warmed the back of her hair, giving it a musty flowery scent he inhaled with abandon, nosing against her shoulder for emphasis.  Even though he had to hunch over with their difference in height, he didn’t mind.

Embarrassing as it was, Kairi smelled nice.

Like home.

“Riku…?”

He hummed into her hair, feeling the gentle pat to the side of his head, her fingers working into his hair and lightly scratching at his scalp. That shouldn’t have felt as nice as it did. Practically melting into the touch, Riku gently rubbed his hand up and down her side.

“Are you okay?”

“Needed you…”

Kairi’s hand slipped from his hair and it was sorely missed but she squeezed his wrist, gently patting with slow circles drawn against the back of his hand. “I’m here…”

Riku almost grimaced. He could hear the forlorn emptiness in her words, despite the comfort. Tension lingering in the air with unspoken words as he was sure they were both thinking of who wasn’t. Time had taught him not to dwell though, and he squeezed her lightly in his embrace.

“Thanks…”

“You’re welcome, Riku,” she murmured, a smile in her voice.

After what felt like forever with her toiling away and him clinging to her back, Riku lifted his chin and set it upon her shoulder, peering down at the pages which resembled nothing but squiggles and lines on white paper to him. “… What’re you doing?”

Kairi paused for a second then laughed, and his heart fluttered when she turned enough for him to catch the blue of her eyes crinkled in amusement. “The homework we were assigned, silly. You really need that nap.”

On a second glance, Riku had to admit the papers did resemble what he’d shoved aside on his desk. His nose wrinkled and he shrugged, brushing his lips against her cheek beneath the length of her eyelashes before settling against her shoulder again. “You’re doing great, Kai…”

“Hehe, thanks…” She giggled, and Riku tried to tether himself to the sound, even if his hold was slurred and shaky with sleep. “Try to rest a little, Riku.”

He wanted to tell her that was impossible. Rest for him would mean dreams, and in his dreams, he saw him. It wasn’t always those eyes — bright, round, and blue as the sky — haunting his dreams. Sometimes, he saw faces of those who were pushed to the darkness while they yearned for the light. Divested of purpose and existence simply for the sake of the one who connected them all. The same one who gave up everything so they could be free. He had to admit, he was rather tired of this dance of guilt. But he memorized the steps and moved through it alone because he didn’t want her to know that her eyes haunted him too.

His hold on her tightened, hand splaying against her stomach, brushing between the paopu fruit plush and the thin fabric of her uniform shirt. “I’m not ever moving again…” He declared after awhile, and Kairi’s answering giggle pulled him from his hazy thoughts.

“You have to eat sometime.”

He smiled a little and brushed his forehead against her shoulder, smelling the sunshine and light rolling off her in waves. “Nope, gonna just live off light…” He trailed off into silence for a moment, hiding a smile against the back of her neck. “Like a plant.”

Kairi scoffed, swatting at his wrist, her pencil thumping against his arm with barely a glimmer of pain. “You’re not a plant, Riku.”

The corners of his lips twitched up. Light streaming through the windows warmed the back of his neck but hers kept away his troubles, reminded him of his successes, and what he still yet had to fight for.

Just like his.

Opening his eyes enough to view the sea of red obscuring his vision, he smiled. “Then why does your light keep me happy and healthy?”

Her shoulders tensed. The smile curling at his lips only widening when he pulled away and saw the pink tips of her ears. If he looked around to her face, he was certain it would be just as red.

“You’re silly…”

A smile in her voice and her light shining bright enough that he almost wanted to look away. Almost but not quite. Her eyes were on her homework but the scratch of her pencil slowed since they’d been talking. Riku watched with fondness curling in his chest, threatening to strangle any sense of reason. Tiredness was temporarily forgotten as he tucked his lips at her ear, cradling her against his chest in a loose hold.

“Kiss me?”

It was an uphill battle asking for one. Kairi — and Sora — insisted he could have as much affection as he wanted from either of them. Happy to give it even at the most inopportune of moments, and no matter how fleeting. Riku was embarrassed at times. How needy did they think him? And above that, didn’t they know if he lingered too long in their light, he might have grown to crave it?

Sora didn’t seem to mind. So often as it seemed like Sora followed him around, it might have been the other way around. Kairi led them as much as they followed, and the three of them were simply together. Pulled into one another’s orbit, bound by some unspoken love and adoration.

Kairi tapped her pencil against the page, the light sticking and click of lead drawing Riku out of his thoughts as she tossed a small wry smile over her shoulder. “You’d have to move for that,” she teased, and his worries were entirely forgotten.

He tipped his head back with a groan. “Kairi…”

“You can’t have a kiss if I can’t see your face,” she replied in a lilting tone, too amused for his liking.

Riku wrinkled his nose and mulled over the consequence of not. On one hand, he could kiss Kairi and drift off to sleep peacefully. While on the other, he could mess around and not have it at all. Weighing the costs and the gains, Riku sighed. “I want three.”

Kairi hummed thoughtfully, tapping her pencil to her chin. Her silence stretching on for so long that Riku huffed and squeezed her hip, earning a giggle. “Alright, deal.”

Burying a smile against her shoulder, he laid a kiss at the crook of her neck before lifting his head, shifting backward. “Three,” he reminded while she set aside her work, turning toward him.

“Three.” It was a repeat but also an agreement. His heart skipping a beat at the determined look in her eyes as she settled on her knees facing him. Her hands slipping in his hair sending him into a buzz of sensory delight, working lightly against his scalp, his eyes fluttering shut. Even in the dark, he could see her approaching but the softness of her lips was something he was unprepared for.

Along with the faint taste of sea salt.

Her hands threaded in his hair, elbows resting against his shoulders and he tipped his head up to meet her at the new angle, finding purchase with his hands against her hips. The taste of sea salt and dried fruit, something sweet but not so overpowering that it was bitter, lingered on her lips. Anchoring himself with the hold, Riku hummed deep in his chest and pulled away enough to speak against her lips.

“You ate my last ice cream, didn’t you?”

Although he couldn’t see her face when she gasped, Kairi’s voice always pitched when she was fit with giggles. “That’s not the point of why we’re here right now, is it?”

Riku couldn’t help but smile. She definitely ate it but he couldn’t find it in himself to be upset with her. Pulling her to him with another kiss pressed to her smiling mouth, he brought his teeth down on her lower lip, pulling lightly when she gasped. A brief flick of her tongue against his own before he pulled away again.

“… You definitely ate it.”

Kairi’s light was a bit brighter and when he cracked his eyes, the flush to her cheeks had returned just as the bite of her fingernails against his scalp reminded. She was beautiful. Freckles beginning to show along her nose and cheeks, faint but hardly able to be missed.

“I’ll buy more,” she assures, and Riku shrugs.

“Forget about it.”

He could hardly care about it now. Looping his arms around her waist to pull her against him as he rocked backwards, spilling over onto his bed in a tangle of limbs. Kairi’s surprised squeak and shout of his name drowned out in startled laughter. Her knee almost catching him in the hip as she squirmed but he smiled nonetheless, tucking his nose against her cheek,.

With the angle of light slanting through his windows, her freckles were prominent and so was the blue of her eyes. If Sora was the sky, then Kairi was the ocean, and Riku was sure he could linger in the sea for awhile longer if she was the one holding him.

“That was unfair,” She huffed, poking his stomach, breaking the small trance he’d been in. Her lower lip poking out in a tiny pout and he was hard pressed not to laugh. That would’ve only spurred on the challenge and he didn’t have the energy to wrestle with her today.

“Call it even for eating my ice cream.”

She rolled her eyes and threw her arm across his side, resting her head against his shoulder. “I guess,” she murmured, face lax with contentment and half-buried shirt.

Riku’s eyes softened and he rested his forehead against hers as she hugged closer to him, shielding her cheek from the sun as he cradled it with his palm, combing her hair behind her ear. “Nap?” He asked when the silence carried on for awhile longer.

Kairi shifted slightly, her eyes barely opening but it felt as if the tide had washed over him. “Nap.” She closed her eyes again and Riku smiled, remiss to move too far from her. With a light flick of his finger and a whisper of Aero, his blanket lifted up and a murmur of Gravity brought it closer to them, lying it over them.

It wasn’t often he goofed off but he could make an exception. And it might have been a misuse of his powers, but looking down at Kairi resting peacefully.

So what?

[creampuffqueen]

Worlds of Fire and Darkness | Chapter Fifteen (Winnie/Cirrus)

Read this on Ao3 here! Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated! 

Cast of Characters

The aftermath of the terrible earthquake in the Summer Court.

Winnie POV

The world was standing still. Still and smooth as glass, or clear water, or fresh fallen snow. The world stood still even as it seemed to crash and burn at the same time. 

I was there, but not. Only the weight in my arms kept me there, in that place. The shadows writhed around me; I couldn’t keep them contained.

Saphira. Saphira Vanserra was curled in my arms, her soft brown hair tickling my chin. I couldn’t see her, but she was there.

Other people were around me as well. I could scent them, though the air was ripe with the stench of blood and vomit and piss as well. 

High Lady Vivianne was nearest to me, only a few feet away. She was holding Dain, little bitty Dain, tight against her chest. Neia, Tarquin and Arianna’s daughter, was further away, but still there.

Camille and Caliphe were gone. My cousins- gone. Where were they? How were they? 

A soft whimper drew me back to the present, a strong inhale that brought the wayward shadows careening back to me and started the world again.

The city was screaming. A deathly, unearthly howl came from below, from the people. 

The city was destroyed. The breath left me again in a gasp, my whole body seizing with the horror. 

People are dying, the shadows murmured in my ear. A female, trapped beneath a sheet of rock. A male was thrown off the dock and into the ocean, and so were tons of debris. A child-

“No more.” I snarled aloud. “I don’t want to know.”

The toddler in my arms was shaking. She didn’t cry, didn’t scream, didn’t shout. But she shook, violently. 

“Winnie!” Someone was yelling for me. But the screaming from below wasn’t stopping. It was louder, more horrifying.

People are dying.

“Winnie!” The scream came again, through the dust and destruction. Saphira’s small nails dug into my arm, her tiny body shuddering. 

My father. My father was the one yelling… Azriel didn’t yell. Elain didn’t yell. But there it was, my mother’s desperate scream joining my father’s. 

“I want my mama.” Saphira whispered. 

My feet were rooted to the floor. My wings drooped, dragging behind me, not able to protect me as dust caked in my hair.

Saphira started to cough. In front of me, I heard the small wheeze of Vivianne’s son, the baby not able to breathe in the cloud. 

“Winnie!” My mother’s howl cut through the gloom. Shadows swirled around me, and by some miracle, I got my feet beneath me and stood. 

As I stumbled forward, still holding the toddler in my arms, a smooth, sleek talon caressed my mental shields, tapping for entrance. It was incredible the shields in my head were up at all, let alone keeping anyone out. I allowed the daemati inside.

Winnie, My uncle Rhys’s voice filled my head, and I had to stop moving to focus. Let us know you’re all right. Use your shadows. Come to us. Your family is worried sick. And Cirrus…

He paused. Like he wanted to soften a blow of bad news.

You need to come quickly.

I couldn’t get enough focus to respond. I had always been awful with daemati abilities, and they were practically nonexistent. With the chaos raging around me, there was no hope for me to use them. 

Instead, I used my shadows. Focusing on them again brought forth a flood of information I didn’t want to deal with- the people dying, the ruined city. I blocked it out, and probed only the meeting hall. 

They tracked down my family easily. My father, he was first, like calling to like. His shadows wove around mine, a comforting blanket as he realized I was near.

My mother was close by, dazed, choked, but safe. She clung to Azriel’s arm, and my father wasn’t letting her go. 

A walk that should have taken moments was taking much longer. Far too long, far too treacherous. The only sign of fear Saphira showed was how she trembled. 

“Winnie!” My father was close, but his sudden call had me tripping over scattered debris. I barely managed to keep my balance, landing on one knee rather than my hands. Glass ripped through the thin fabric of my trousers, and I bit back a yelp of pain. 

“I’m here!” I shouted back, heaving myself upwards while still holding Saphira tightly. 

Only moments later, strong arms wrapped around me, and I heard the distinct sound of a sob.

My father was crying. 

I nestled my head against him, letting out a breath I hadn’t even realized I was holding. He was okay. We were okay. 

Azriel led the way, still holding me tight. Elain held close to his other arm, though she’d taken Saphira from me, holding her in the comforting way only a mother could. 

We passed through a shield of wind, the magic causing my skin to tingle. Uncle Rhys’s magic, holding strong.

Our group was sorry looking. Nesta and Cassian, Nesta leaning against her mate in a rare moment of vulnerability, one hand clutching his and the other resting on her stomach, on the barely-visible bump of a growing child. 

Camille and Caliphe sat together, the eight-year-old curled up on her older sister’s lap. Feyre sat nearby, alongside Tess, who had Mireya’s head in her lap. The female was somehow more pale than ever before, her breathing rapid and shallow. 

Rhys was the only one standing, and even he looked worse for wear. Sweat dripped down his temple and neck, onto the ripped collar of his fancy shirt. His magic… 

It was draining him. The most powerful High Lord, his powers drained. A harrowing thought. 

I turned away. 

That was when I saw him. Prostrate on the floor, carefully positioned near his mother to keep him out of harm’s way…

Cirrus. Covered in blood. His own blood. Covered in his own blood.

It ran in red rivulets down his head, caking and drying on his neck and shoulders. Blood on his hands, his knees. 

“What happened to him?” I barely managed to choke out. 

“I don’t know.” Feyre whispered. “He, Tess, and Mireya found us. Mireya was already unconscious. He was fine one moment, and the next…”

“There are other people out there.” I addressed my family firmly, trying my hardest to keep my composure. “We need to get them, and help them.”

“The whole city is in ruins, Rhysand.” Azriel added. “The sooner we clear this up and find everyone, the sooner we can go help the people.”

Little Saphira, still in my mother’s arms, suddenly made herself known with a soft whimper. “I want my mama.”

“I know, darling.” Elain told her. “We’re going to find your mama and your papa. Your big brothers, too.”

“I want Daylor.” Saphira added. “Big brother.”

The mention of the Autumn Court male made my wings flare unintentionally, and I fought to bring them back. In the chaos, nobody noticed. 

“I’m going back out.” I snapped, my nerves already frayed enough. “Vivianne is out there, with Dain. And Neia, too. And we have no clue where Mor and Amren are.”

“Winnie, wait.” Azriel grabbed my arm before I could leave the relative safety of the wind barrier. My father gave Elain a pointed look. 

“When the earthquake hit,” My mother started. She gently set Saphira down, and the toddler clung to her legs. 

“I had a vision.”

Everyone sat up straighter at her words.

“You haven’t had a vision in years.” Nesta said. 

“I know.” Elain sighed. “My gift has been… silent, for a while now. But as soon as the quake started, so did the vision. If Azriel hadn’t been there I might have been killed by debris. I couldn’t move.”

“Have you ever had one that strong before?” Feyre asked. “I don’t remember your old ones rendering you immobile. Just dreamy for a minute.”

“It could have been shock.” Elain said with a shrug. “The quake, the vision. It doesn’t matter what happened then. Just what I saw.”

My mother closed for eyes for a few seconds, taking a deep breath. Dragging the memories and the vision up, keeping the details fresh. 

“I saw a hawk.” She breathed, eyes still closed. “Brown and gray, but the tail feathers were rust-colored. It was ruffled, weak. It had been flying for a long time. It was tired.”

Elain took a breath, and continued. “Its eyes. They were… so strange. I’ve never seen a bird with eyes like it before. The brightest blue, ringed with gold…”

Her voice trailed off for a moment, and she whispered something I couldn’t hear. Her eyes snapped open.

“The fairest eyes from legends old.” 

“Where is that from?” Rhys asked, voice slightly strained. “I feel as though I’ve heard that somewhere.”

“Aunt Amren says that.” Caliphe piped up. “A rhyme, from one of her books.”

“Yes,” Nesta added on, “I think I’ve read it somewhere before.”

“There’s more.” Elain told us. She swallowed thickly.

“The hawk disappeared into the trees. And in its place, a swarm of bats swirled into the air. Everything was silent until then, but when the bats arrived… they were screaming, in human voices. They were terrified.”

“The bats were trapped. A cage, it came from nowhere. It trapped them all. And I was there, and I could do nothing to help…”

A tear rolled down my mother’s cheek. Azriel stepped closer, wrapping her in his arms as she dissolved into sobs.

“I don’t know what Elain’s vision means,” Feyre finally spoke, “but I know that we need to get up and try and make sense of what is happening now. Cirrus needs a healer, a proper one.”

“Can nobody heal him now?” Camille asked, brow furrowing. “Can none of us use our healing powers? I would do it, but…” her voice trailed off then. It was a sore spot for the teenager, really. Her powers aligned towards Summer, Day, and Spring, with none of the healing power of Dawn like her mother and brother had. 

Rhysand shook his head. “No, Camille. None of us can.” He took a deep, steadying breath after he spoke. “Something… is blocking my magic. Like a damper, but not quite. I can’t reach my powers.”

“I can’t either.” Feyre sighed. “It’s like the well of my magic has dried up. I have to reach so far down for just a drop.”

“My shadows are working fine.” I mentioned. “Tess, what about you?”

Tess shook her head. “Winnie, the shadows are a part of you. They’re different than magic.”

“But magic is also a part of you.” I argued back. “So why are my shadows working but everyone else’s powers aren’t?”

A soft groan came from where Mireya lay, and everyone’s gaze snapped to her. She shifted slightly, moaning in pain, eyes screwed shut.

“Mireya.” Tess murmured. “Mireya, can you hear me?”

The female gave a soft nod, slowly easing her eyes open. Her face was still pale, but at least she was awake. Her whole body shook as she gently pulled herself up to a sitting position, and the effort left her panting hard.

 “What…” She spoke thickly, as though her lips weren’t following her brain’s orders, “what is going on?”

“I’m going to get your mother and brother and bring them back.” I told her, before anyone could argue. “And I’m going to search for everyone else, make sure we’re all accounted for.”

“I should come.” Mireya tried to sit up further, only for the blood to drain from her face again. She laid back down in Tess’s lap.

“Stay here.” My cousin told her. “You’re weak right now. You passed out during the earthquake. Rest.”

While she didn’t look happy, she didn’t protest. Or perhaps she didn’t have enough energy to. 

I could tell my uncle was struggling to keep the shield up, and keep all the dust away. His magic wasn’t failing, but it certainly wasn’t cooperating. The sooner we found the others, the sooner we could get to cleaning up.

“I’m going with you.” Cassian said, giving Nesta a quick glance. My aunt nodded almost imperceptibly. 

“I’ll go as well.” Azriel added. “Two Shadowsingers are better than one.”

Together, with my father and uncle, we stepped outside the shield of wind. 

Almost instantly, I had to pull up my shirt to cover my nose. The dust was still thick, clouding around us and clogging in every place it could. Even with the face covering, all three of us couldn’t stop coughing. 

“This way!” I shouted, gesturing broadly, to where I remembered I had fallen first, when the ground started shaking. 

I let my shadows loose as we walked, their whispers filling my ears. The ground was unstable, and it shifted every so slightly with every step. Movement was difficult, as none of us wanted to bring down what was left of the palace.

After all, if the upper floors had sustained this much damage, I trembled at the thought of what had happened to the foundation. 

“Two High Lords that way.” Azriel said, having to raise his soft voice to be heard. He gestured in the opposite direction that we were headed, and I tensed at the decision being offered. 

“I’ll get them.” Cassian replied, relieving me of having to change course. “You two go get the others.”

My uncle shifted slowly to where Azriel pointed, walking away until all that could be seen were his dark wings flared wide. My father and I continued in the same direction, both of us silent as our shadows did their work. 

It was rare that I wished for powers other than my own, but in this instance, I would have given anything for the power of light or wind. Even my heightened Fae senses were useless in the clouds of dust, so thick that even the sunlight of the Summer Court couldn’t penetrate them. 

Without being able to see more than a few feet ahead of me, it was no surprise that I tripped- but this time, it was over a person.

I hauled the person upwards, my father stepping in to help me. It was Neia, her silvery hair caked with dust, and various scrapes covering her body from debris.

“Neia,” I said, gently pulling her towards me, “I’m going to get you out of here, okay? Walk with me.”

The girl seemed to shrink in on herself, but she did as I asked, slowly putting one foot in front of the other. One of her shoes had come off, and her fancy embroidered tunic was ripped. 

We made our way back towards the larger group of people, and Neia’s breathing became labored, as if she were desperately reigning back sobs.

Finally, I could see Rhys ahead, but at that exact moment, Neia cried out, clinging to me as her hold finally slipped and she broke down. 

“Come on,” I urged, tugging her gently, “it’s only a few more steps. You’ll be safe.”

She just cried harder, choking both on her tears and the dust. 

Seeing her, just a child, so upset, so unraveled, got my already frayed nerves on end. I wasn’t sure how I wasn’t just like her, broken down and crying. I was detached, not all there.

And after all, this was her home. And it was completely destroyed. 

A few shadows twined with my own, the sign my father gave before appearing in my peripheral vision, supporting the High Lady of the Winter Court. The baby was tucked down her dress, keeping him away from the dust as much as possible. 

“Neia.” I coaxed. She was coughing now, in between sobs, and I couldn’t bear to just sit and watch. Carefully, I pulled her into my arms, carrying her bridal style the last few feet to the barrier. 

Inside, my mother greeted me, brushing the hair that had come free of my braid out of my face. She helped me ease Neia to the ground, then led her over to Caliphe and Saphira. 

Feyre still sat by her son, unwilling to leave his side. Camille had moved to crouch over him, violet eyes taking in the sight of her older brother. 

Moments later, Azriel and Vivianne arrived, and the latter nearly dropped to her knees in relief when she saw her daughter. 

“Mireya.” The young female couldn’t muster enough strength to lift herself from Tess’s lap, but she reached for her mother nonetheless. Vivianne wrapped her in a tight hug, and Dain peeked over the collar of her dress to peer at his sister. Mireya hugged him, too. 

“Feyre.” Rhys murmured, so soft I wasn’t even sure I’d heard him. But his mate cocked her head, and the two locked eyes, undoubtedly having a mental conversation. 

In some sort of understanding, Feyre moved over, allowing Rhys to come and sit by his son as well. The High Lady’s gaze and attention turned elsewhere, to a place I could not see, as I felt a flicker in the shield of wind. 

The only barrier keeping us all from the dust and destruction. 

My uncle’s face was pale and sweating, a sign of the effort to keep his magic going. If Rhysand, the most powerful High Lord, was struggling to use his powers, then how were the rest of us to fare?

In an answer to my question, Camille glanced over at me.

“It’s as though my powers have been locked away, Winnie. I can feel them, see them, but I can’t use them.”

Seeing my curious glance, my younger cousin shrugged. “It seems as though my Daemati abilities haven’t been affected, though. Your mind is wide open.”

I refused to dwell on that, instead listening to the whispers of my shadows.

People are dying in the city.

“Azriel.” Rhys said, gently combing fingers through Cirrus’s mussed hair. My father turned towards his High Lord.

“I need you to go to the Night Court, as soon as possible. I need to know if our home was affected by the earthquake as well.”

“I will go when I am sure that this city is being taken care of.” he replied softly. A small flash of annoyance in Rhys’s eyes, though it disappeared soon.

Before anyone could respond further, Cassian arrived, leading the two High Lords behind him. Thesan and Tamlin.

At the arrival of the High Lord of Spring, everyone tensed. Tamlin’s green eyes were steely, one of the only parts of him visible beneath the layers of dust.

“Thesan.” Rhysand started, and I could hear the strain in his voice, see the barely restrained curl of his lip as Tamlin surveyed the group. “Is there anything you can do for my son?”

The High Lord of Dawn hesitated for a moment, stepping closer to Cirrus. “What happened to him?”

“The same thing that happened to me.” Mireya answered softly. “He must have felt what I did. That tugging sensation, deep in my gut. I don’t know what it was.”

“He also hit his head.” Tess added. “I think he could be concussed.”

“My magic is… not obeying.” Thesan admitted with a wince. “I am struggling to use it. I could hardly reach it enough to heal my own wounds.”

So it wasn’t just the Night Court that was having issues with their powers.

Even with the declaration, Thesan still bent down to look Cirrus over. He placed a hand on his pale forehead, then traced down to where the blood still ran in a slow rivulet.

“All his wounds are only skin deep.” Thesan muttered, more to himself than any of us. “His own Fae blood should be healing him by now.”

“Our Fae blood should be healing all of us.” I snapped, feeling my temper starting to rise. Everything was all wrong, and I had stopped praying to wake up from a nightmare. Everything was all wrong, and everything was also undeniably real. “But it’s not. We don’t know why. Can you heal him or not?”

Thesan looked like he might be considering snapping back, but after a few moments, decided against it. “I can try my best.”

Holding his hands over Cirrus’s bloodied head, it took a long, silent minute before a faint glow began to emant from them, the light so soft it was hardly noticeable.

It took several minutes, minutes where we all waited with bated breath. A bead of sweat dripped down the male’s brow, sliding down and taking dust with it. 

And slowly, ever so slowly, the skin where the blood gushed out began to knit together, until fresh, brand new skin sat in its place, as raw and pink as the day he’d been born. 

“He will be sore.” Thesan panted, sitting back on his heels. “But it will not be as severe as if it were left untreated.”

Rhysand’s violet eyes met those of shimmering gold, sincerity lacing every word as he said, “Thank you.”

After another moment of silence, it was Tamlin who spoke this time.

“I need to find my son. And we must return home.”

“We all want to return home, Tamlin.” Feyre snarked, then took a deep breath, steadying herself and the shield of wind she now commanded. “But none of us will be able to if we don’t find the others and figure out the damage already done to the Summer Court.”

Tamlin gave a snarl, glaring at Azriel. “As if you weren’t already sending your Shadowsinger back to your hellish court.”

“I am not leaving until I am sure each and every person in this meeting is safe.” Azriel’s voice was low, dangerous. Tamlin just rolled his eyes.

The male’s bright green gaze landed on me, and his face twisted in a cruel smirk that had my blood boiling. 

“Or were you thinking of sending the youngling to do your spying for you? I do say, she is… quite small.”

“Yeah, and you saw with your own eyes how she kicked Autumn’s heir’s ass yesterday.” Tess snapped back. 

“Stop arguing!” Camille hissed, standing up and placing her small frame in between me and the High Lord. “We’re accomplishing nothing with this.”

“My daughter is right.” Rhys agreed, gently easing Cirrus to the floor and standing up. “Tamlin, you have control over wind. How about you put that to use and clear this dust?”

The High Lord of Spring’s eyes narrowed, but he said nothing. One of his hands tightened into a fist, and had I focused more, I might have seen the beginnings of those claws Aunt Feyre always talked about. 

Instead, I observed Tamlin’s face, allowing my shadows to twine around him, unabashed, gathering what information they pleased. Reaching so deep for his power, he could do little to protest. 

A breeze, flower scented and gentle, flowed around us, strong enough I could feel it even with the shield my Aunt kept up around us. The wind that was so at odds with Tamlin’s personality, soft and soothing to the male’s brash and rude demeanor. 

Whatever that power was, it worked, because the dust cleared, surely and steadily. A few bodies were uncovered, and other Fae were cleared into the open, dazed and confused, but still standing.

I didn’t bother wasting time just watching. Neither did the rest of my family. Even Aunt Nesta got up, and joined us to go gather the people. As the dust cleared further, even Feyre dropped the protective shield in favor of rescuing the others. 

I reached High Lord Tarquin first, where he stood with his wife, Arianna. Both looked dazed, but Tarquin’s face shifted into one of relief as he spotted Neia with us. The young girl stood and ran into her parents’ arms, sobbing all the while. 

More people were retrieved, various entourages of Courts. I rejoiced when Mor and Amren were recovered, thought the latter only snapped that we shouldn’t have been worried, and she could care for herself. 

Among the gathered people, I felt a flash of disappointment when Lord Eris emerged with a snarl. 

Though, of course, if he had died in the quake, that would mean that Daylor was the new High Lord of Autumn. I wasn’t quite sure how that made me feel. 

The feel of his skin on mine still remained in my mind, though buried far, far in the back. The sounds he made, the way he moved… all of it fresh, nearly demanding to be thought about. I refused to let those thoughts win. 

People are dying in the city.

All thoughts of the male died as the shadows crooned in my ear, nearly mocking. So rarely did they show personality, as they did now, and never before had they been so aggressive, so demanding.

People are dying. You must do something.

It took all my willpower not to hiss out loud. I glanced over my shoulder, to where Tamlin still stood, though his golden face was ashen. He looked as if he were on the verge of collapse. 

At least the dust was cleared. Though it revealed the full scope of the destruction. It was a damn miracle the floors this far up were still holding our weight. 

Nobody was speaking. The floors were so weak, we just might all crash to the ground if someone started an argument. 

Still, Eris spoke up.

“While I’m glad everyone is here and accounted for, we need to retrieve my sons. They were all still asleep in their rooms.”

“And I need to take care of my city.” Tarquin replied, his even temper worn short. “Get your sons, Eris, and head back to Autumn. In fact, everyone can head back to their courts. Survey your own damage. We don’t need extra people in the way.”

“Our meeting isn’t over-” The High Lord snapped, but was silenced when Tarquin held up a hand.

“I am one word away, Eris.” His voice was low, deadly, the normal gentle High Lord gone. “One more word, and I will drown you where you stand.”

Eris’s face went as red as his hair, and he snarled, only for his wife to place her hand on his arm, reigning him in. She glanced over at Saphira, in her arms, the little girl’s eyes wide. 

He backed down, incredibly. All eyes in the ruined hall were on him, and he knew it. Still, he glowered at Tarquin with lowered eyes. 

“Eris, let us help you get your sons.” Azriel spoke suddenly, and the tension in the room sparked. “It’s safer. We have wings.”

“As if.” The male hissed back. “Keep your Night Court filth away-”

“Please.” Eris’s wife spoke above him, voice desperate. “Find my boys. I don’t care what you must do. But you kept my daughter safe.”

Eris’s growl was guttural, but the female didn’t so much as flinch. 

“Bring my boys back to me, please.” 

She was desperate, I realized. A mother’s instincts, she would do whatever it took to have her children by her side and safe. No matter what her awful husband said. 

I was ashamed to admit I didn’t remember her name. Hadn’t bothered to, seeing as she was just another one of Eris’s playthings. A prized brood mare, to gift him as many heirs as possible. 

She’d done her job well. Three healthy sons, one healthy daughter. And she kept her place at Eris’s side, at his right hand. Perhaps she wasn’t as meek as I’d once assumed.

Azriel gave her a solemn nod, then turned to Cassian. Tess, who was still supporting Mireya, couldn’t come. Neither would Rhys or Feyre, so engrossed in caring for Cirrus.

There were three Autumn Court males. And two Illyrians.

Unless I went as well. I was strong enough to carry one of them. I met the eyes of my father, only to find him already looking at me in anticipation.

I nodded once.

That was all the confirmation he needed, and the three of us traveled deep inside the ruined palace, searching for the heirs of Autumn. 

~~~~

Neither my father nor my uncle questioned why I knew exactly where I was going. Even with most of the palace destroyed, I remembered the turns and twists and which way to go. 

I was both grateful and annoyed at the vast amount of windows in the Summer Court. On one hand, they provided lots of light, but on the other, shattered glass covered almost every surface. My knees barked in pain just at the sight of it. 

There was less dust in the hallways, thankfully. Enough for me to cough on, though. Most of it had already floated out the windows.

“We’re close.” I declared, as both my nose and my shadows alerted me. Loam and crackling embers, the unmistakable scent of Autumn. 

“Nasir and Alen are on that side of the hallway. Rooms nearby.” I gestured. “Daylor is right here.”

“Winnie,” Azriel started, but I was already pushing my way inside. 

The door closed behind me, and my father didn’t follow. I didn’t care. 

Daylor’s room was as opulent as mine. More so, even. As well, it looked wholly unaffected by the havoc wrought outside. The only indication something had gone wrong were the cracked windowpanes, and the pictures on the wall that were tilted oddly. 

And, of course, the male that was sitting on his bed, a silent observer.

“Your father made it sound like you were half dead.” I remarked, still standing by the door. “But you look pretty coherent to me.”

He gave me an insufferable smirk, crossing his arms. It was really unfair how attractive he was. It was unfair that one look took me back to the night before, where he’d had me pinned to the same bed… 

“Why didn’t you leave?” I asked, unable to keep the snarl from my voice. “It’s been chaos in the meeting hall. People are dying down in the streets, and yet you’re still just sitting here.”

He didn’t respond for a long moment, didn’t uncross his arms. Eventually, he took a deep breath, and spoke.

“Is Saphira okay? And my mother?”

I gave him the same treatment, and kept silent, even as my instincts screamed at the cruelty of keeping him in the dark.

“Your mother is fine. Organized the search party, actually.”

He snorted. “I’d hardly call one winged girl a search party.”

I picked at my nails, pretending to be bored. “I believe the word you used yesterday was half-breed.”

The smile turned predatory. “And I believe the word you used yesterday was bastard.”

“None of that matters now, Daylor.” I said back, refusing to fall for the bait he offered.

“Of course, Elowen.” He was testing me, seeing how far he could push before I snapped. I wouldn’t give him the pleasure.

His eyes narrowed again, and he asked another question. “What about Saphira? Is she alright?” 

A weak spot on the impenetrable heir of the Autumn Court. He cared for his little sister, even more than for Eris, his High Lord and his father.

“She’s fine.” I could almost see the sigh of relief. “Didn’t even cry when the quake happened. She’s resilient, that one.”

Daylor’s handsome face tightened at that, a glare forming, though not aimed at me. The expression lingered for hardly half a second, but I still could see it plain as day. 

At the question no doubt evident on my own face, he scowled. “Saphira doesn’t cry. Hasn’t for years.”

There was a story behind that, I was sure. But right now… I suddenly became starkly aware of the situation again. I hated him for it, for the way he could get me off task so easily, distract me so thoroughly. Hell, the entire city was in ruins, and here we were, discussing his younger sister’s habits.

“We need to leave. Get off the bed and come with me.”

Daylor glanced down at the ground. “If I move, this entire floor will collapse beneath us.”

I sent my shadows out, and stiffened at the information they retrieved. Correct, Daylor Vanserra was. He couldn’t move from the bed, for if he did, yet another part of the palace would crash to the earth.

A small spark of panic surged inside me, and I shoved it down quickly. No time to panic. Time to think. 

“We don’t have all day, Elowen.” Daylor snarked. I sent a withering glare his way.

“Maybe try and come up with an idea to save yourself, then, if you’re in such a hurry. You know, instead of sitting on your ass for hours.”

I stepped forward, one foot, two feet… the floor gave a loud groan, and I hopped back. A crackling sound came from beneath the plush carpet, no doubt the floor getting ready to give way.

Think, Winnie, think.

I watched as Daylor slowly rose to his feet on the bed, tall enough that he could touch the blue-painted ceiling. He shifted from foot to foot, brushing his hands through his hair in a manner that could almost be considered anxious.

“Stay still.” I hissed through gritted teeth. “This floor is seconds away from collapsing.”

And he listened. I didn’t have time to take in, however, when the floor groaned again, this time sagging right in the middle. When that part went, so would the bed. 

Daylor would have to be one lucky bastard to survive that drop. And considering everyone in the meeting hall had survived the earthquake, I was pretty sure our luck was running low. 

I didn’t know what to do. I was trapped, far away, with the only exit being the door behind me. My shadows were writhing, collecting information, but nothing of use. 

People are dying.

“I know.” I muttered back, “I know.”

“What?” Daylor snapped, crossing his arms again. I ignored him.

I was still mulling over my choices, when, suddenly, the door behind me slammed open. I stepped forward out of shock, my entire foot going right through the floor.

“Winnie!” Azriel roared, but I was already moving. Ripping my foot away, I sprinted to the bed, throwing myself upon it. I didn’t have any more time to think. Just time to move.

Daylor shouted profanities as I grabbed him, scooping him into my arms just like I had done with Neia earlier, though it took more effort. 

Crashing sounded behind us, but I didn’t dare look. Instead, I hurled myself off the bed, keeping the male secure in my arms.

The balcony door. It was unlocked, though it didn’t matter, as I smashed through it anyway. Glass exploded around us, and I heard screams, smelled blood, but I didn’t care.

I jumped right off the balcony. I heard Daylor’s roar, one of raw terror, but I didn’t slow. We hurtled towards the ground, the wind shifting the shards of glass deeper inside my skin.

At the last second, I flared my wings wide, a roar of my own on my lips. We soared upward, catching the wind, the sky somehow an open, endless blue, even with the destruction below us. 

The wind rippled my hair out of my face, and I breathed the first deep, true breath I had in a while- and I could have enjoyed it further, if it weren’t for the Autumn Court male’s screaming.

Turning back towards the ruined palace, I bit back a yelp of pain as one of the shards of glass dug further into my skin. But it was soon lost in a gasp of horror as I saw the palace from above.

Where we had just left was entirely caved in, floors and floors sliding down the side, still crashing. 

My father was still in there.

I blocked out the blind terror that threatened to overtake me, taking in another deep breath. I angled us toward the meeting hall, though every part of me begged to be down in the city, where the scent of terror and despair was pungent. 

It didn’t take long for us to arrive back at the palace, with the speed my wings could take me. The glass was growing more painful by the minute, and I knew I needed to stop and get the shards removed. 

Everyone was silent as we landed. Every single person, even the littlest children. I practically dumped Daylor onto the floor, but the male managed to keep his balance through sheer luck. 

I met the eyes of Eris first. The perpetual scowl, the anger, was still present. In fact, he looked more resentful of me than usual. Even as his son stumbled over to him. Injured, but alive.

His wife spoke to me instead, her littlest child still wrapped up in her arms.

“Thank you.”

I gave her a stiff nod in return, as every movement sent a spark of pain through my body. 

Rhysand met me next, pulling me towards him. 

“Winnie,” he murmured, “what you just did was incredibly stupid, and incredibly brave.”

“Brave and stupid, my two middle names.” I joked. 

“I’m going to get Thesan to heal you.” He continued, though he cracked a small smile.

“Don’t bother.” I insisted. “Just help me get the glass out, and I’ll be fine.”

My uncle gave me a look, but didn’t press. Just led me away from the commotion, to a quieter part of the destroyed meeting hall.

“Where are Cassian and Azriel?” I asked as Rhys worked, gently pulling shards of glass from my body with a pair of tweezers he’d summoned from… somewhere. I almost dreaded his answer. 

“Alive.” He answered. “And well. I feel them. Neither is injured.”

I tensed, biting my lip as a particularly long shard was removed. “I just worried. Azriel startled me, and that made half the palace crumble…”

Oh gods. I’d just crushed half the palace. All for one measly male, a Vanserra at that. 

“No,” Rhys soothed, “you did not bring half the palace down. Just one wing. And it would have fallen anyway, Winnie.”

“Still.” I muttered, shifting awkwardly where I sat. 

We sat in silence for another few minutes, the only noise being the bits of glass pulled from my skin. Blood dribbled from a few of the gashes, though none of it was nearly as bad as Cirrus’s head had been.

When all the glass was gone, Rhys pulled a roll of bandages from the pocket between worlds, wrapping up the most bloody wounds. Thankfully, none of the glass had pierced my wings, leaving most of the bandages to be wrapped around my arms and legs. 

The shadows sensed them before I did, this time. I turned to glance up at my father as he arrived. Caked in more dust, but no other visible injuries.

“Winnie.” Azriel breathed, sitting down and pulling me close, though gentle on my fresh injuries. “Thank the Cauldron you’re okay.”

“I thought you might have gotten crushed when the floor collapsed.” I whimpered, allowing my father to hold me.

“No, no.” he insisted. “Winnie, I was so worried- you jumped out of a window, for Cauldron’s sake!”

“I’ve got wings, dad.” I chuckled. “And I’m fine. Did you and uncle Cas get the others?”

Azriel nodded. “Nasir was still out cold. Alen was up, but didn’t know where to go. Both of them are fine now.”

Rhys glanced between us, violet eyes calculating. He was up to something, starting a scheme.

Sure enough, he stood up, offering me a hand up. Azriel stood up as well, brushing the dust off his pants, then looked up suddenly.

They were talking using their minds. A secret, easy communication that was impossible to overhear, not with the way both of their minds were guarded. 

“What are you talking about?” I hissed, keeping my voice as low as possible. My father and uncle shared another glance, before my father gave a short, sharp nod.

I’m sending Azriel on a mission. Rhys said into my mind. Something about this doesn’t sit right with me. Cirrus and Mireya getting sick, struggling to reach our magic… this isn’t a normal earthquake.

He was right. But… 

Let me go with him. I demanded. It took everything in me to send back just one sentence, but I was determined. I needed to find out what was wrong, who was behind this.

You suspect foul play. Rhys commented. It’s a possibility.

Winnie, you are not going. Azriel sent back. If it is foul play, I don’t want to put you at risk. 

I can take care of myself, I thought angrily. I’m strong, and none of my powers were weakened. I need more experience, anyway.

More shared glances, more unspoken conversation. I had no doubt that my uncle had just read my mind, and was now relaying the message back to my father. I just had to hope he’d convince him. 

You can go. Rhys finally said. But Azriel says that if there is even a sign of danger, you leave immediately. 

Okay. I could work with that. I gave my uncle and father a bright grin, smiling wider when Azriel returned it. 

I want you both to leave as soon as possible. Get out of here before anyone questions it. Head back to Velaris, get supplies you need, and go out again. I’ll take care of things here.

“Can I at least tell Tess? And my mother?” I whispered, mind too exhausted to attempt more mental speaking. Rhys nodded.

Quickly.

I nodded, turning away from our small group to the larger one, where I could spot my cousin still with Mireya, keeping her up.

The Winter Court heir was looking better, but not fully recovered. She still looked shaky on her feet, evident by how she was leaning on Tess. 

“Tess!” I called, and she looked over. I stepped closer, close enough to breathe into her ear, “I have to leave. My father and I are going on a mission.”

She nodded quickly, turning back to her friend. Tess and I both knew how important secrecy was on a normal day, but this was even more so. If the other courts found out, I knew there would be a big debate. 

I met her eyes again, hazel meeting hazel. “You take care of the people down there, Tess.”

Another nod. “I will. Good luck.”

Mireya glanced between us curiously, but didn’t comment. And I turned away, seeking out my mother for one last goodbye. 

That was when the shout came, the distinct voice of my little cousin, Caliphe, yelling across the room.

“Cirrus is waking up!”

Cirrus POV

Every part of me hurt. My legs, my back, my head. 

Great Cauldron, my head. 

Blinking against the harsh sun through the shattered windows, I let out a groan that sounded pathetic, even to me. I could already tell that just sitting up was going to be a trial. 

And… the odd, tugging sensation deep in my gut was nearly gone. Before, it had been so intense I couldn’t stand up straight, had puked up my breakfast. Now, it had disappeared, as suddenly as it came. 

All of this information, before I even took a proper look around. 

The lights were too bright, and I screwed my eyes shut tighter. Still, I couldn’t block out the hazy shadows above me, accompanied by the familiar scents of my family.

Caliphe, more specifically. 

“Wake up, sleepy-head.” My little sister demanded. I gave another undignified groan, my head giving a throb of pain from the noise.

“Can’t- get… up.” I mumbled through stiff lips, my tongue dry. “Water…”

“He wants water!” She called, her loud voice causing me to wince again. 

Comforting arms wrapped around me, my mother’s scent flooding my senses. She gently pulled me into her lap, as if I were no more than a child, careful of my aching body.

“Drink this.” She coaxed. I cracked my eyes open enough to take in the glass she offered me. How she found a cup of water in the chaos surrounding us, I didn’t know. But I sipped from it gratefully. 

Every part of me felt… off. Fuzzy, like a dream.

I had dreamed, when I was unconscious. Flickering flames, shifting from red to orange to gold in an instant, embers crackling loudly. 

Strange dreams were the least of my problems, however. Even the odd ache in my gut that had disappeared wasn’t as concerning as the destruction all around us. 

I took another sip of water, mentally checking myself over. Head? Throbbing. Body? Aching. And my magic… 

Subdued.

“I can’t reach my magic.” I said dumbly, glancing around at my friends and family. “Something is wrong.”

“I know.” Feyre soothed. “It’s happened to all of us. Don’t use your magic right now, Cirrus. Let yourself recover some more.”

“But… my magic.” My mind couldn’t compute. Magic had always been at the tips of my fingers, at my beck and call. I could switch from water to wind to light in an instant, power flooding out of me.

It was still there. All of it was. Just… pushed deep inside of me. Coaxing up even something small, like a drop of water, would be an effort, I could already tell. 

And the strange damper was affecting everyone. It seemed like a miracle that the glamour on my wings still held strong. For little Caliphe, hers was gone, Illyrian wings on full display. 

“We need to get out of here.” My father urged. “Azriel, I want you and Winnie to take Cirrus back home. Let Madja care for him.”

“I don’t need to be coddled.” I snapped. “I know that there are people who need our help. Don’t push me away.”

“You can’t even stand right now, son.” Rhys deadpanned. “You’re going home.”

After another moment’s hesitation, he gestured to my littlest sister. “Take her as well. She’ll only get underfoot.”

“Hey!” Cali protested, but her demands fell on deaf ears. 

“Why are uncle Az and Winnie leaving, anyway?” I interrupted the oncoming tantrum to ask my cousin a question.

“I want to make sure the Night Court hasn’t been affected.” My father responded evenly. 

And I want them to search for the source. The quake wasn’t a normal one, that’s for sure.

I gave a brisk nod, not feeling confident enough in my powers at the moment to respond mentally. I trusted Azriel and Winnie. They’d find the culprit, and they’d figure out how to get our powers back fully. 

“We should get going.” Azriel said softly. “Sunset is nearly upon us.”

He was correct. The sun was dipping towards the west, and I knew that soon, the sky would be filled with the brilliant pink and orange of a Summer Court sunset. 

It had been late morning when the earthquake had happened. How long had I been passed out?

Everyone looked uncomfortably between each other, but said nothing. Instead, Rhys nodded to my uncle.

“Safe travels, brother.”

Winnie took my hand, in preparation for winnowing, while Azriel grabbed Caliphe. My sister looked put out, but didn’t complain. 

“Take care of yourself, Cirrus.” My mother whispered, giving me one last soft squeeze. She cracked a forced smile. “And don’t let your sister eat too many cookies.”

“We should all be home soon.” Rhys assured me. “But I want to help Tarquin’s people. Their city was destroyed in the earthquake.

A spark of hatred flashed through me, for my father making me leave, not letting me help. Innocents were dying, losing their homes, and I was being toted back home, nothing more than a wayward child.

But I didn’t have enough energy to be angry. So I just nodded.

“Let’s go.” Azriel said gently. Winnie squeezed my hand once, and then we were gone, squeezed through the pocket between worlds, suffocating for just a second. 

And I found myself sitting in the living room of the River House, my cousin by my side. Azriel and Cali sat on another part, my little sister still pissed from being taken from the action. 

I took a deep breath, keeping the ache at bay. My head was pounding again, and I shut my eyes against the light.

“I’m getting Madja, and then we’re leaving.” Winnie told me. I nodded vaguely, not quite hearing her.

The sound of fire crackled in my ears, and I sat up straight, surprised to find no flames near me. Visions danced before my closed eyes, flames of glittering gold far too close to my face.

That heat felt real, yet it wasn’t. 

“Aunt Lainey had a vision.” Caliphe said bluntly, crawling across the couch after Azriel and Winnie left. My cousin to get the healer, my uncle to gather supplies.

“What about?” 

“I don’t remember everything,” my sister shrugged, “but I know she saw a bird. A hawk, I think. Then aunt Nesta and uncle Rhys talked about aunt Amren’s books for a while.”

“Not much to go off, huh.” I muttered dryly, and Cali shrugged again. 

Winnie was back, Madja at her side. I reigned in my groan at being coddled, yet again, as the older female came over to examine me.

“Winnie!” Cali said suddenly, jumping up. “What was the rhyme aunt Lainey said? About the blue eyes?”

After a moment of thought, my cousin answered. “The fairest eyes from legends old, the brightest blue, ringed with gold.”

Caliphe nodded, satisfied, while fire flickered at the edge of my vision at her words. 

“Winnie, let’s get going.” Azriel called after his daughter. “As far as I’m aware, nothing in Velaris is amiss. We check out the rest of the Night Court, and we keep going.”

Madja glanced up from where she’d been fussing over the cuts on my knees. “If you will, Lord Azriel, not everything is fine. My magic has been weakened.”

The color drained from my uncle’s face. “Here, too?”

Madja nodded. “It’s still there, but hidden. Hard to reach.” Looking over me once more, she continued, “So I’ll give you a tonic for the pain, my Lord.”

“Then our mission has become more important.” Azriel sighed. “Winnie, finish up. The sooner we’re out of here, the better.”

My cousin didn’t object, slinging a skin of water over her shoulder as well as a small pack of other supplies. Azriel was prepared similarly, and both of them had shadows weaving over their shoulders.

Shadowsingers, the both of them. Some of the only magic that didn’t seem to be affected.

Madja gave me a small, sweet-smelling tonic while she went to work wrapping bandages over my legs. Winnie as well was covered in them, but whatever had caused her to need them couldn’t have been too bad, if she was still being allowed to go with her father. 

“I’ll look into that rhyme while you’re gone.” I told her. “You said it might be found in Amren’s books, right?”

Winnie nodded. “Yes. You might want to look at more than that. See if there’s a way to weaken power in a long range.”

She leaned in, squeezing me tight. I returned the hug, as did Caliphe, until Azriel gave a pointed cough.

“Stay safe.” I warned. “You don’t want to leave Tess to beat up all the Illyrian males by herself, do you?”

Winnie gave me a wicked grin as she stepped away. “I wouldn’t dream of it. She can’t have all the glory.”

She stepped away, and I took a sip of the tonic. Clasping hands with her father, the two of them winnowed away, leaving no trace behind.

Cauldron keep them safe, I prayed. 

Outside, starlight shone in through the windows. In the short time we’d been in the River House, night had fallen, leaving the only light to be what reflected off the rippling Sidra.

I wrapped an arm around my little sister, sending up a few more prayers while I finished off my tonic. For my family, my friends, for the ruined Summer Court.

More flames, at the back of my mind. My gut gave a soft tug in answer. I ignored it, staring out the window instead.

The brightest blue, ringed with gold.

Instead of those, eyes of piercing forest green stuck in my mind. More fire. A flicker of lightning, a breath of wind. Another tug in my stomach.

Fly fast, Winnie.

~~~~

And there it is! What did y'all think?

Any more guesses on what caused the earthquake/strange sickness/disappearing magic? I mean, it's probably really obvious, but I just love hearing y'alls opinions!

In the scene where Winnie saves Daylor, there's a little bit of something there... a hint of his true self... hm

The next ACOTAR chapter will probably be only Winnie, unless I decide to change something and include another POV... we'll see. Do y'all like the multiple POVs or single POVs more?

As for the next chapter... I won't tell you anything except the Sygan kiss will finally happen. No more info. I will just say, it's going to be intense.

Love y'all! I really hope you liked this chapter!

Comment to be added or removed from the tag list

@queen-of-glass

[beyondflashpoint]

Prologue 3: World’s Finest:

It was a quiet night, for Gotham. Quiet for Gotham still meant a surplus of muggers, purse snatchers, and various other petty criminals, who more often than not fled at the sight of any one of the city’s resident costumed vigilantes. That was fine by Damian. In the four years since he had assumed the mantle of Robin, donning the colorful tights to aid in his father’s nightly crusade, he’d experienced a fair number of not so quiet nights in Gotham.

In the early days he’d longed for the next complex caper, the next shadowy plot, the next Arkham breakout. But as time wore on he came more and more to appreciate the quiet nights. The mission wore on endlessly, and for Damian, and all those who fought by he and his father’s side, the quiet nights were the closest thing to rest.

Father was on one of his interstellar escapades with the Justice League. Damian had seen their work, and thought it mostly ineffectual grandstanding, so he understood the necessity of Batman’s presence among them. They needed someone who could get the job done. What he couldn’t understand was the necessity for him to have a chaperone.

Grayson had accompanied him on patrols every night since father’s departure, as if without constant supervision Damian might decide to go on a killing spree, or blow up a bank. Not that he minded Grayson’s company. He was an effective combatant, and contrary to Damian’s first impression he was actually competent with strategy and detective work. Unfortunately he also talked. A lot. Beyond the pithy one liners and snarky banter he fired off in combat, which could have been excused as psychological warfare, Grayson wanted to talk about everything. Was he reading anything good lately, had he made any new friends, what music was he listening to, did he have a life outside of the mission, when was the last time he’d washed the uniform? It was incessant. Countless tedious questions fired off in rapid succession, as if Grayson had a pathological fear of silence.

At least he’d finally stopped trying to set Damian up on play dates with the other teenaged vigilantes. That had been beyond frustrating. For a time Grayson had pitched a different cooperative mission, which he’d pestilently referred to as “team-ups”, every week. The last and least unbearable had been with the Kent boy, though he had ended up roped into irregular interactions with the child, outside of uniform, and preforming menial tasks unrelated to the crusade.

Blessedly, Jonathan was currently grounded, due to poor performance in mathematics. Perhaps he should have mercy and tutor the boy. He would consider broaching the offer after he slept.

“Mushroom swiss, extra onions, and large mocha, triple espresso. You know you really should cut back of the caffeine, Lil’ D. It’ll stunt your growth.”

Damian snatched the bag and beverage. “And you should cut back on the pizza. It’s starting to look like Pennyworth needs to let out your uniform again.”

“Very funny, brat.” Grayson ruffled his hair, before plopping down on the ledge beside him and settling into what looked like an overstuffed breakfast burrito, though he did pull at the fabric clinging to his abs when he thought Damian wasn’t looking.

“Anything happen while I was gone?” Grayson asked as he chased an exceptionally large bite with his own coffee.

“B-and-E on 18th, but GCPD was close enough to respond, so I let them handle it.”

“Why Damian, I didn’t know you were capable of sharing. How generous of you.” Grayson punctuated his feigned surprise with a dainty hand against his face. Damian narrowed his eyes, and returned his attention to his own meal.

“Tt”

“Jason and his ‘Outlaws’ got back to Blüdhaven this morning. I think they were doing something about the Lexcorp drilling operation in Smallville. The facilities definitely exploded, and explosions usually involve Jason. Surprisingly there were no casualties.”

“Jason has never broken father’s code, despite every opportunity to do so. His methods might be a bit extreme, but they are effective, and non-lethal.”

Grayson paused. “But I’m still your favorite brother, right?”

Damian smirked. “I’m no longer wishing you dead.”

Grayson laughed, then the two ate in silence. While Damian was washing down the last vestiges of his meal, Grayson stood and stretched. “So, I’m thinking we move towards the bay area. Seems like theirs always something to do there.”

“If you’re eager to stay busy, we could consult Oracle.”

Grayson shuffled awkwardly, then cleared his throat. “That won’t be necessary. Between the police scanner and Al manning the bat-computer, we’ll know where we’re needed, when we’re needed.”

Damian got to his feet and stretched himself. It seemed there was some awkwardness between Grayson and the Gordon girl, probably stemming from a failed romance. Grayson didn’t talk about it, and neither did Oracle. He could probably ask Jason, but he didn’t care that much. So long as it didn’t effect the mission.

It was a short trip by rooftop to the bay area docks, and the two were in no real rush. This was a simple patrol, mostly for the sake of reminding Gotham that it’s guardians were constantly vigilant. Across the bay, the shining beacon of metropolis lit the sky as if to starkly contrast the shadowy gloom of Gotham. Damian had often wondered if property was cheaper on the Gotham-facing side of Metropolis. He knew from father that the reverse was true of Metropolis facing property in Gotham. On the other side of the Bay Bridge, the Hights loomed like towering castles, housing those of Gotham’s elite who preferred high rises to mansions. One of those buildings held a penthouse suite belonging to Father and housing a substitute Batcave far better outfitted than the many bunkers father had across the city. Damian had toured each of these facilities in his first week as Robin, and given them each a monthly inspection since. In recent months he’d taken to sleeping in the penthouse when he and father had one of their frequent disagreements. Before that he’d mostly gone to Jason’s Blüdhaven bunker, but a particularly awkward incident had put a stop to that.

Grayson was right about the frequency of criminal activity in the area, and the two had barely began their loop around the docks when they came upon a group of thugs brazenly unloading pallets of cocaine. The two separated wordlessly, each seeking a vantage point from which to survey the scene before acting.

Grayson went high, perching on top of a crane, Damian went low silently positioning himself on a shipping container right above the scum.

“I count six men, two in the truck, two in the container, and two patrolling. The guards have automatic weapons, but I’d be willing to bet all six are packing. How do you want to proceed?” Grayson spoke in a determined whisper, and Damian replied in the same hushed tones.

“I see five. One of the guards is heading your way. Advise pattern Gamma-12. Move at your command.” Damian never enjoyed handing over control, but Grayson had the best view of the battlefield, and would make the right call.

“Acknowledged. Guard two is on your 8:15. You may proceed with pattern G-12.”

Damian dropped onto the unsuspecting guard, who was exactly where Grayson had said he’d be. Before the man could make a sound, Damian clapped a hand over his mouth and struck key pressure points in rapid succession, rendering the man unconscious. With silent precision he moved towards the container and his next targets.

The truck was shaking as he stepped from the corridor into the loading area, and he knew Grayson was doing his part. When his targets moved into the container to start on another pallet he stepped in behind them and slowly shut the door. The thump of metal and frightened, agonized screams were the only indication of what was happening inside, and they faded into silence quickly enough.

When Damian emerged, Grayson was standing with his hands on his hips, no doubt preparing some quip or other. Before he could say anything though, a brilliant radiance lit the sky like daybreak come several hours to soon. And with a deafening crash, the meteor smashed into the bay, sending a wave far enough inland that puddles formed around their feet. The two locked eyes, wordlessly agreeing that it was within their responsibilities to respond, and made their way toward the crash site.

The scene was tranquil, if one could ignore the floating debris and wreckage of personal water craft that had congregated to the bay’s center, ringing the impact zone like the epicenter of a child’s temper tantrum. Damian and Grayson stood in silent awe, until Damian pulled the Geiger-counter out of his belt and set the device ticking.

“Al, how fast could you get us a boat to Gotham Bay, pier 19?”

“I’m picking up radiation, if minor. Our space rock is so lukewarm it’s practically cold.” Damian returned the device to his belt.

“I’ve dispatched the bat-boat you your location, Nightwing. Happy sailing sir.”

The two glanced at each other as the din of distant sirens and alarms died down. The cities on both sides of the bay were wide awake now, and they wouldn’t have long to investigate before the authorities moved in. The boat took just long enough for Grayson to become antsy, tapping his foot and drumming his fingers over his crossed arms. When the visor slid back to open the vessels empty cockpit, Grayson boarded without a moment’s hesitation.

Damian moved to join him.

“Hope Al packed some trunks. We might be getting wet Lil’D.” Grayson opined as Damian fastened himself in.

In leu of a response, Damian rolled his eyes, and the duo started across the bay to the epicenter of the crash. They had just reached their goal when the boat heaved and rolled over, flipped like a child’s plaything. Moments later a heavy thump resounded from the skyward facing underside of the vessel. Damian and Grayson situated their respirators, exchanging an understanding glance and Grayson opened the visor and the boat’s interior flooded with the oily bay water. At the last minute, Damian released the clasp on his cape, cutting the resistance he’d face cutting through the water.

The duo surfaced to a strange sight. Standing on wobbly legs on the slowly submerging underside of the bat-boat, was a young woman, soaked from head to toe, and wearing what looked like a silver and white wet-suit. Grayson, who had surfaced and disengaged his respirator first, cautiously joined her on the slowly sinking makeshift island.

“Ma’am, are you alright?” She jerked her head towards him, panicked, fearful. Damian was all to familiar with such mannerisms. He propped his arms on the boat.In response, the young woman muttered something Damian couldn’t quite make out.

“Miss, it’s okay. We’re here to help.” Grayson took a cautious step towards the young woman, who responded with a frightened shout and a shove at Grayson, who hadn’t even finished shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

Soaked to the bone, and standing on precarious, slippery footing, a slip or stumble would have been expected, even from one with the lithe grace of Grayson. Instead, he jettisoned a pained grunt and flew from the vessel, skipping twice across the water’s surface like a stone. Damian watched in shocked awe, and turning his eyes on the aggressor, saw the same look in her own eyes. They were blue. She met his gaze and shouted something else in that gibberish that was starting to sound vaguely familiar to Damian. Then she jumped as if to dive into the Gotham facing side of the bay. But instead launched at least fifty feet into the air, sailing in a clear arch to the docks he and Grayson had left moments ago.

“Grayson-“

“Still breathing Lil’D. Get after her. I’ll catch up.” Grayson sounded winded, and was barely suppressing what Damian was guessing to be intense pain, but he kicked off the boat and swam towards the docks nonetheless. Even at the brisk pace he set, it still took way too long to reach the shore. Luckily the young woman left a trail. Wet footprints and cracked pavement made the pursuit easy as following a hare though fresh snow. She was moving eastward, and inland.

Damian’s pursuit showed all the telltale signs of a frightened, if powerful, meta-human, just coming into her abilities. She needed to be stopped before she hurt anyone, before she hurt herself. Anyone else, Damian mentally corrected. He’d passed a few would be thugs or helping hands with significant (though fortunately non-lethal) injuries in an alley a few blocks back. Beams of crimson light shot skyward from the next street over. Damian hip-fired his line launcher and took the rooftop in time to catch a glimpse of the chaos on the street below, and the young woman illuminated by police flashlights as she floated gracelessly skyward. With very little time for mental calculations, Damian took a running start and dove across the gap between buildings.

He collided with the girl in mid air, directly above the middle of the crowded street, with thirty stories of open air between him and unforgiving concrete. His gamble paid off. Whatever method granted the girl flight had slowed their decent, and coupled with Damian’s momentum they came down in a slow arch, landing on the rooftop on the other side of the street. For his part Damian had to roll to disperse the excess momentum. The girl immediately rose from her knees to her feet with stony determination. She shouted at him in what he realized was an alien language.

“Tired of running, I take it. Come then.” Damian pulled the sword from his belt. It was blunted, had been for almost three years now, a concession made to ease father’s mind. But even without an edge it could break bones, bruise bodies, and dissuade antagonists. Before he had taken a ready stance, the girl launched forward at speeds that would even give Allen pause. The blade bounced and rattled on the rooftop, useless. Clearing thirty feet in less than a second, the girl had pinned Damian to the wall by his wrists. The impact had knocked the breath from him, and might have broken both of his wrists, had they not been cushioned by the meta’s fingers. As it was, her vice like grip was already bruising bone deep. A horrific crimson light radiated menacingly from her previously arctic blue eyes. Damian narrowed his own eyes, scowling. Mentally he was running through every possible counter, every potential method of escape. Then, she spoke again, and the nagging familiarity clicked.

“Where the hell am I? What the hell is going on?”

Damian mentally thanked Jon for the Kryptonian lessons, and formulated his plan. It would have to be fast.

“Welcome to earth.” He spat, smirking. The glow faded from her eyes, replaced by shock. Her grip on his wrists loosened, and Damian moved to the second step of his plan. He pushed forward as hard and fast as he could, planting his lips on hers. The Selina Kyle method. As expected, confusion, shock, and perhaps a touch of embarrassment caused the Kryptonian to fully release her grip and stagger backwards, giving Damian enough time to pull the aerosolized kryptonite/ knockout gas concoction from the led-lined pouch on his belt and spritz the girl with a healthy dose.

Once she had collapsed into a heap and Damian was sure that she was fully unconscious, he called Grayson.

It was just before sunrise when father returned, and on Damian’s insistence, brought the elder Kryptonian with him. Unlikely as it was, Kara Zor-El was his cousin, sent to earth from Kandor, the capital city of Krypton moments before the planet’s destruction. She was uncertain what had set her off course by nearly four decades, but she had finally arrived.

Within six months, she was fluent in English. In ten she was versed enough in her powers to earn Superman’s approval to shadow him in metropolis. After some convincing Bruce set her up in an unused apartment he kept in National City with an established civilian identity and all the paperwork that required. Before the end of her first year, Kara had blended almost seamlessly into earthling society, though under constant supervision from the Justice League. By that time even Batman’s considerable scrutiny waned. But Damian remained cautious.

Eventually, Supergirl’s fame and reverence grew to match that of her well established cousin, and the world mostly came to accept the new heroically inclined visitor from a strange world.

But the clock was ticking, and had been long before the alien child set foot of the strange new world. Events were already in motion that would call to question the meaning of the word hero, and the line that separates good and evil.

Tick

Tock

Tick

[lost-eternity]

Stars Aligned: A Zodiac Fanfic

I'm doing a little characters test with a new OC of mine. She is based in a steam-punk world where powers are given to everyone at birth based on the star sign they were born under. Maikela is a known illusionist. Outfit design done by yours truly.

  “You lied to me! You lying-”

     “Nu-uh.” Maikela extended a leather-clad finger, pressing it to the lips of the monocled man with whom she spoke. “Your mother raised you better than that.”

His eye twitched, his fists curled in a knuckle-white grip by his side. He practically shook from poorly concealed rage, his lithe frame quivering under the illustrious black fabric of his tailcoat.

Once she was sure that he would no longer sully his tongue with profanities, Maikela daintily removed her finger.

      She feigned a look of hurt, grasping at her chest and knitting her eyebrows together. “Me? Lie? Why, Lord Sisyphus. You wound me.” 

 

    Outside the quiet confines of the Billard Room, the sounds of chatter and music drifted through the thin walls, coming from the dazzling ball was taking place. Men and women of high social stature gather inside the grandiose room, clothes in only the most ornate of fineries. Each one an attempt to outdo the other resulting in comically overdressed individuals peacocking around the ballroom, zealously flaunting their wealth.

 

     The ladies with their fans raised against their lips gossiped among each other in hushed tones while the gentlemen attempted to court and swoon. It was all a trivial affair, heedlessly pointless but attending this ball was an absolute necessity in accordance to her father. 

 

     Much to Maikela’s acquiescence, he had sent her out to the ball on a retrieval mission, pursuing rumours about the host’s treasonous infidelities. Apparently a consultant of her father’s would be in attendance and offered some incriminating evidence in the form of photography. Of course, he would only hand them over for the right price. 

 

     Lord Sisyphus merely scoffed at her response, turning his shoulders away from her as Maikela continued with a pleasant smile. “Surely you know, my Lord.” She ends of her lips tilted upwards in a subtle smirk as she pressed her finger against her lips. “I never lie. I merely allowed you to believe the wrong truth.” 

     The disgruntled aristocrat did not appear amused by her word. “Fallacy.” He snapped, leaning in closer. “Your father promised me cash in return for the photos, girl. Now I that I have given you them, I expect our agreement to be honoured.”

    Tsking softly, Maikela shook her head. She clasped her hands loosely at her hips, her smile never once faltering. “I believe his exact words were “adequate payment”, not money.”

     “What’s the difference?” Sisyphus’s wrinkled brow creased with frustration.

     “Kind, sir. Surely you jest.” Maikela’s eyes widened in an innocuous expression. “In some cultures, karma is about repaying an untold debt to the universe.” 

     “I don’t see how this has anything to do with my transaction.” Sisyphus folded his arms in the most ungentlemanly fashion. 

     “I beg you to practice patience.” Maikela’s tone took on flirtatious lilt.  “Good things come to boys to wait.”

     The lord blanched slightly at the sudden salacious remark. “I- I beg your pardon?”

Maikela paid no heed to Sisyphus’ solicitous concern. “I have it under good authority that you have been embezzling money from your own charity, using it to fund your interests in arms dealing and excessive amounts of alcohol.”

     “Excuse you?” Sisyphus growled, his teeth grinding against each other.

     “I feel that keeping your... endeavours a secret from the populace is adequate payment for your photographs, is it not?” Maikela drawled on, her tone pitched and lazily expressing no real concern with the issue. 

     It took the lord a few moments to comprehend Maikela’s intentions. Once he did, she noticed the stirrings of vindictive wrath flash behind his cerulean gaze. “You are blackmailing me?!”

     “To put it in the simplest and most ineloquent of terms... yes, yes I am.” Maikela flashed him another one of her dazzling smiles.

     “You are going to regret that. I will ruin you!” Sisyphus proclaimed dramatically.

Maikela turned away, walking gracefully towards the exit of the Billiar Room. With a serene smile, she raised her left hand into the air, offering the infuriated lord a passing farewell without making eye contact. She gingerly allowed her parasol to rest upon her shoulder.

     “Have fun with that.” She purred lackadaisically.  

 

     Before Maikela could reach the doors, they swung open, nearly hitting the lady in her face. Unfazed by the jarring motion, Maikela did not even wince. Instead, she tilted her chin upwards to gaze dully at the two figures who loomed menacingly over her petite frame.

     “Oh.” Lord Sisyphus chuckled darkly. “I meant that you would pay right now. I’ll let your father find your beaten body outside of his manor. Then he will know the consequences of messing with me.”

Maikela did not move, she merely raised her chin to meet the unwavering gazes of her opponents.         

“Oh?” Was all she had to say. 

One of the men in a blue suit softly closed the door to the billiard room, locking it with a muted ‘clink’. 

     “Make haste. We don’t want her screaming to distract the rest of the guests from their leisure.” Sisyphus hummed callously.

 

     Upon his command, the man in the brown suit lunged, beefy arms spreading out to grab hold of Maikela’s delicate frame. As his hands came into contact with the ruffles of her dress, Maikela shattered, her form crumbling like porcelain dust where it dissipated into the carpet

     “What?” The muscle growled, clenching a fist over the empty air where Maikela stood only seconds prior. 

 

     “Yoo-hoo.” Maikela crooned softly.

Three pairs of eyes swivelled to stare up at her.

She had perched herself adroitly up on top of one of the many bookshelves that lined the room, one leg folded neatly over the other. A serene Cheshire smile spread across her pristine features as she waved her hand delicately down at the men below her. Her parasol rested against her shoulder in the opened position, the pink lacing casting intricate shadows down upon the men below.

 

     “H-how?” Lord Sisyphus stammered, jamming his hands into his pockets in lament. He rolled his eyes. “Enough of your tricks.”

     Chuckling, Maikela gracefully leapt off the wardrobe, her parasol catching air as she fluttered towards the ground. Her feet hardly made a sound as it came into contact with the wooden tiles underfoot. 

     She stared at her attackers, an unspoken challenge burning behind her sweet smile. With the fluidity of a feline, she raised her parasol, closing it. Bringing it over her head, she extended the umbrella out in front of her as one would do in fencing, issuing a silent challenge. 

     Raconous laughter echoed through the room as Sisyphus clutched his stomach, another peal of hearty laughter falling from his quivering lips. “What... what are you doing?” He gasped between fits of snickers. “You planning to shade us to death, little girl?”

     Maikela did not speak a word, nor did she lose that self-assured smile. Instead, she silently drew her thumb up along the handle of the parasol. With a click of a button, a silver sword slid soundlessly from the tip of the umbrella, its point gleaming dangerously in the dim lighting. 

     The realisation that Maikela’s parasol was a hidden weapon silenced Sisyphus. He stared for a moment, before smirking. “Suit yourself. We still outnumber you.” 

      Without uttering a word, Maikela extended her free hand, gazing at the three of them with a ‘come-hither’ expression and beckoning hand.

 

     That was all the command they needed. Both bodyguards rushed Maikela simultaneously as the latter braced herself for the attack.

Blue’s fist came flying towards her face however it stopped short as Blue suddenly tensed, stumbling back. 

     Maikela had jammed the blunt end of her parasol directly into his gut, smiling prettily as he fell away from her. She tilted her umbrella upwards, opening it and allowing it to rest delicately on her left shoulder.

     Brown took up the front of the fight, aiming a flurry of punches at the smaller girl. 

Humming casually, Maikela danced around him, dodging each blow. Her smaller stature enabled faster reaction time. All she had to do was wear him out.  

 

     True to her predictions, Brown began to falter in his attacks, chest heaving with the strain. 

     “My turn.” Maikela giggled, folding her parasol and blocking a punch which rendered Brown’s right side exposed. With a well-placed roundhouse kick, she dislodged her attacker, setting him off balance. 

     Maikela swept her parasol under his feet and he stumbled off to the side, crashing heavily against the ground. 

     Smiling, Maikela leapt forward, the gleaming tip of her sword poised to plunge into Brown’s under-protected jugular.

     However, a heavyweight threw her off as Blue seemed to have recovered from the blow he had been dealt. He launched her to the ground, but the moment she touched the wooden panelling, Maikela once again shattered, leaving Blue to crash into the floor inconsequentially. 

 

     Appearing behind him, Maikela kicked his rump, driving him further into the ground. The sound of a clicking gun brought her attention towards Sisyphus. 

Maikela was quick to twirl around, facing away from the lord and opening her umbrella. As the shot rang out, the bullet bounced harmlessly off the microlattice “lace” of her parasol. 

 

     Smiling, Maikela turned back around to find that Blue and Brown had recovered and were fast approaching. Maikela blocked the first punch with her umbrella, aiming the tip against his chin she quickly unfurled it. The parasol snapped open, clocking Brown in the face. 

Blue was quick to fall into place but he did not last too long either as Maikela’s high kick hit him in the jaw. 

     Growling, Brown attempted a kick to her chest.

Launching herself backwards, Maikela sprung off her hands, landing comfortably in a leather armchair at the head of the billiard table. 

 

     Maikela tauntingly opened her parasol, laying it over her left shoulder and spinning it in a playful manner, her legs neatly crossed, poised as if she were ready to receive some tea. She giggled teasingly at Blue and Brown who continued to approach whilst Sisyphus loaded another round. 

 

     “Your games are through. This ends here.” Sisyphus demanded, raising the firearm. “I was hoping to suit my fancies but you are making proceedings unnecessarily difficult so unfortunately, I will have to get sloppy.” Then he squeezed the trigger.

The round fired from the pistol as sparks flew through the air. The bullet sailed through the air, penetrating the sound barrier with a concussive boom before hitting Maikela square in the chest.

 

     As soon as the bullet touched her skin, the illusion shattered, revealing Blue gagged and tied to the armchair in her place. Blood leaked into his suit, staining the hand-sewn satin dark crimson. Sisyphus appeared to be positively befuddled as he spun on his heels to glare at the Blue who had been standing behind him. 

     Smirking, imposter Blue tilted his head, revealing two unmistakeable eye colours. One pink and the other blue. 

     “You...” Sisyphus raised the gun but Blue grabbed it, ripping it from his hands. 

Fractal-like patterns shifted along his arms causing his figure to shimmer. Sisyphus blinked as he found himself staring at his mirror image. Except his other self had two separate coloured eyes. 

Making use of the real Sisyphus’ shock, fake Sisyphus slammed the base of the gun into Brown’s head. 

     The hired help dropped like a stone to the ground, vision swimming and sparks of pain flaring across his agitated body. 

 

     The heavy oaken door of the billiard room slammed open, sending the lock flying across the room and clattering against the wall.

      Maikela had dropped the firearm and resumed her own shape, however, now bruises and cuts marred her flesh. Blood leaked from a busted lip, trickling down her chin as a panic-stricken cry rose into her throat.

     The man who had busted down the door rushed into the room. He wore a simple white tux with golden accents, his eyes framed by wire-rimmed glasses. 

     “Maikela, I have been looking for you everywhere. Why did you run of- oh my gosh!” He gasped as he took note of her beaten shape. 

     “Jack!” Maikela sobbed, tears pricking the corners of her gaze as she fled over to him, flinging herself into his arms. “T-these men. T-they tried t-to hurt me. They attacked me.” She stumbled over, steadying herself on his bicep, shaking with a renewed vigour as a fresh wave of tears wracked her bruised body. “T-they wanted my father’s money... w-what if they kidnapped me? Oh my-”

     “Shh.” Jack consoled her, looking up to glare at Sisyphus who stood dumbfounded by the table. 

     “The girl lies. She scammed me out of my payment!” Sisyphus argued, rolling his eyes. “If you think that man will save you, you are sorely mistaken. I am untouchable.”

     “Not by the law, you aren’t.” Jack hissed, with one hand he held up the weeping form of Maikela, and with the other, he reached into his pocket, procuring a police badge. He showed it to Sisyphus, his tone gruff. “You are under arrest for assailing a woman and attempted abduction.”

 

    "What?”  Sisyphus objected, practically fuming. “Don’t you know who I am?”

     “Save it for the courtroom,” Jack mumbled and gingerly set Maikela down.

The girl quivering, hiccuping softly, her lower lip trembling. 

     Jack withdrew a handkerchief from his coat pocket, wiping the tears from her cheek. “I am sorry I never got the chance to dance with you, my lady.” He cooed.

     Sniffling, Maikela nodded. “I-I am just glad that you made it.”

     Jack forced a smile. “I will take care of this gentleman and his henchmen and then I will come back for you to escort you home... I told you that a cop like myself has no place with the gentlefolk of the upper tier.” 

     A strained chuckle fell from Maikela’s lips as she looked up at Jack, her gaze shimmering with tears. “Thank you.”

     “Of course, my lady.” He murmured the turned on his heel, stalking towards Sisyphus.

 

     Jack listed Sisyphus’ rights in a flat tone whilst he handcuffed the lord with two magnetic rings, pulled together by an energy field that binds the body. As Jack forced Sisyphus out of the billiard room, the lord swivelled his head to send one last scathing look but what he saw caused him to falter. 

     Maikela’s abrasions had all but vanished, leaving her as stately and pristine as ever. She smiled at him coyly, the ghost of a smirk touching her lips as she tauntingly waved her fingers in farewell. 

     Sisyphus’ throat felt dry as he glared daggers into the ground, attracting quite the commotion as he and Jack passed through the ballroom. The music faltered as thousands of eyes turned to don him, hundreds of moths moved in hushed whispers, each one discussing the unlikely scene before them.

     Rising to her feet, Maikela brushed off her pants. She retrieved her parasol from the floor, tapping it twice on the ground. Her form shimmered as a bountiful hoopskirt materialised, intricate lace drapings adorned the bust of her dress. A halter top crossed her chest and her jacket shortened to accommodate the sudden gown. Smiling, Maikela appraised her outfit in a nearby mirror before she exited the billiard room, brushing imaginary wrinkles from her dress. 

     Maikela had purposefully invited Jack, an officer from their local law enforcement to join her at the party under the guise of wishing to court. He was more than eager to agree. Maikela needed only to ensure that he runs into some trouble arriving at the ball to give her enough time to retrieve the photographs from Sisyphus and expose him to be arrested. 

     Every single detail about her plan had been carefully orchestrated, each scenario thought and then rethunk to include potential complications such as Jack arriving earlier than expected or not at all. Fortunately, he had arrived just when expected and Maikela made a mental note to thank a few people for ensuring this. 

 

     As Maikela glided across the ballroom, the nobles did not appear to trifle themselves with trivial concerns such as arrests. The music was quick to resume, and their sprawling figure rejoined in with the courtly dancing. 

     Maikela slid through the ground moving hastily and dodging any servants offering drinks and other amenities. She was on a tight schedule and needed one last thing from the host’s manor before making her departure.

For those interested:

Maikela was heavily, heavily inspired by Patty Hearst. Maikela's father runs an influential news chain and media company. He is the owner of nearly every major tabloid and paper in town. He uses his daughter’s skills to collect sensitive data on rivals to present to the public in his papers. And he will use methods that are not exactly legal in order to get that big scoop.