#I'm using obsidian and it's SO satisfying

[reorientingtothexdaylight]

I've just spent the last hour rebuilding my database of queer characters in French TV shows and how they're all linked by actors playing those queer characters

[skmhlml]

Weird thought but in a yandere village in minecraft either illegers or villagers would they ise there own specific golems to keep you in the village this is if the golems werent invented by you but still had the yandere touch in them

Note: I'm gonna try my best to decode whatever this says like Paps’s Pizzeria games play on cool math. 🙏

Date asked: 4/20/2025

Warning: Impreg/birth kinks, Mindbreak & corruption, Multiple golems on one reader, Reader slowly losing humanity, annnnnd stretching

𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝑰𝒓𝒐𝒏 𝑮𝒐𝒍𝒆𝒎? 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

You were supposed to be just passing through. You needed food, maybe a safe place to sleep. You didn’t expect the villagers to be so… welcoming.

Too welcoming.

They act like you’ve always lived there.

You try to leave.

They stop you.

No swords. No threats. Just wide smiles and words like, “You’re not ready yet,” or, “The Golem hasn’t claimed you.”

Then you see it: their Iron Golem. But it’s not like the normal ones.

This one is taller. Smarter. Watching you. Always. The villagers say they built it just for you. Not to protect the village—but to protect you for the village. You try to run one night. You make it to the gates. That’s when you feel the shadow fall over you. The Golem doesn’t speak. It just wraps an arm around you and lifts you like a ragdoll.

Back to your new “home.” The house with no exits. The bed with silk restraints. They tell you it’s an honor. That he chose you. That soon, the Golem will breed a new generation of defenders with you.

You cry. You fight. It doesn’t matter.

The villagers are smiling.

The Golem is heating up.

And the door locks behind you.

You were kidnapped. Straight up. Dragged into a pillager outpost, thrown into a cell. You expected death. Or torture.

Instead, you were cleaned up. Fed. Given silk clothes. And then they brought it in.

Their “Golem.” It’s not made of iron.

It’s made of dark obsidian, bone blocks, and corrupted redstone.

And it’s alive. A twisted mix of dark rituals and code-breaking. It has a voice—gravel and static—and a mind. One that only cares about you.

The pillagers say you were chosen. That you’re their “heart-bearer.” That only you can satisfy the Golem’s need to bond.

And oh, it bonds hard.

Every night, it comes to your cell. Fills you with corrupted seed that leaves your stomach bloated, your body tingling, your mind slipping. It doesn’t just want you—it wants to remake you. Fill you so deeply, so often, that your humanity warps.

IRON GOLEM:

Size Kink? More like destruction kink. His cock isn’t soft. It’s heated iron, thick as your thigh, textured with mechanical ridges. Every thrust stretches you past sanity—forcing you open with a wet, metallic squelch.

He doesn’t ask. He pins you down and uses your hole like it’s a machine port he needs to plug in and empty himself into.

Every time he finishes, it’s gallons of steaming, molten-like synthetic “seed.” It floods you. Soaks the sheets. Pools on the floor. You wake up with your belly distended, squelching with every step. He likes when it leaks down your thighs—grabs your hips, shoves it back in.

NETHERITE GOLEM:

Heat Play + Pain Kink. His body is blazing hot. His cock is like burning obsidian wrapped in glowing redstone veins—when he enters, it sears. You cry. He moans.He loves when you sob, scream, beg—thinks your pain means you’re “accepting the bond.”

Corrupted Breeding He fills you with Netherseed—black, sticky, thick like tar. It burns on the way in, but numbs everything by the third round. You can’t move. Can’t think. He forces it deeper until it boils inside your womb. And then it grows. A mass writhing under your skin. Something’s forming.

You’re kept in a lava-heated pit, chained by the ankles. Your only job? Get bred. Get bloated. Birth cursed golems.

REDSTONE GOLEM:

Vibration Overload…He vibrates. Constantly. His cock has auto-thrusting pistons, and every ridge is wired with live redstone current. He can edge you for hours, forcing orgasms until you’re limp, twitching, drooling into the sheets.

Cum Extraction Routine. He tracks how many times you cum. If you haven’t hit your “quota,” he clamps you in place, activates his harvest mode, and uses you like a fuckable circuit. You pass out. Doesn’t stop. Your hips get rammed raw.

Built-in tentacle arms, lube tubes, internal heating rods. He can open you in three places at once.

OBSIDIAN GOLEM:

Size? Monstrous. You don’t take him. He breaks you in. No prep. No mercy. Just a slow push into your hole until something gives. You cry. He praises. Then he pistons in so deep your belly bulges.

He treats you like a breeding hole. Likes to mark your skin with molten fingerprints, bruises, and bite-marks from jagged edges.

He injects you with black ooze that alters your body, makes your holes stretch easier, makes you need him, crave the stretch, the burn, the breeding.

[casino-lights]

so we have confirmation that veilguard was made in a year and a half. that's understandably such a time crunch and must have put unimaginable stress on the dev team, especially with the mass effect team coming in partway through. I do have empathy for the writers. no one deserves to lose their job at a time like this, especially not after such a roller coaster of a development cycle and after working on this series for so many years.

however.

obsidian made kotor 2, a game praised for its writing and many fans' favorite of the pair, in 14 months. they then proceeded to make fallout: new vegas, again praised for its writing and hailed as a shining example of video game storytelling, in 18 months. a lot of content was ultimately cut from both of these games, but in kotor's case, it was lovingly added back in by fans over the years despite not being especially easy to mod because the fans were so passionate about what they already had that they wanted to enhance it. these games are both known to be kinda janky as well. but the games at their core have satisfying stories, characters, and an incredible overall narrative that feels satisfying and fits with their respective universes, maintains respect for the established lore and characters, and is tonally consistent with the atmosphere and themes of previous games. hell, dragon age 2 was also made in about the same time frame based on what I could find, and as much as the assets were reused there and it could be occasionally glitchy, it remains one of the best bioware narratives with some of their most memorable characters, and it accomplished that while both keeping to the lore and vibe of the dragon age series AND expanding it into new territory.

I am aware that there are differences like engines, era, expectations, pushes from management, etc, but I'm mostly focusing on the writing and the narrative team's priorities. I wouldn't care if they reused assets to save time and money. I wouldn't care if a couple side quests had to go, or some character arcs were a little less polished, or some side characters were cut entirely. honestly I would have preferred it if some of the characters WERE cut entirely. if you're just going to spit on all of her character development, don't bring morrigan back. cut some of that banter in the lighthouse and let me talk to my companions properly. cut that goddamn arena and put those resources toward fleshing out the lords of fortune. even if the rest of the team wanted that entire faction cut so they could focus on other things, cut the fucking faction.

I will never apologize for rightfully criticizing the choices the writers made while making this game. the game talks to you - both you as the player AND you as the character - like you're stupid. repeating things over and over again just to make sure you Really Get It, dumbing down so many aspects of its own lore, reducing any kind of conflict to therapy speak or an HR meeting, etc. rook has no characterization to speak of and their dialogue and tone is wildly inconsistent depending on which npc you're speaking to at the time. why is rook clever enough to do playful, flirty hunter/prey banter with davrin but also too awkward to properly flirt with harding? the one canonically nonbinary neurodivergent companion frequently expresses themselves by growling and roaring and their individuality and competency are repeatedly undermined by their own writer's narrative decisions and banter. the game disregards its own lore and at times straight up contradicts itself. it's pretty, but lacks substance, and fails to live up to the standards a lot of us had for a dragon age game.

I won't pretend I know everything that went on behind the scenes but I think a year and a half is more than enough time to write a better narrative than what we got, even with some pushback from another dev team. I've seen countless thinkpieces by fans who have come up with solutions for plot holes and fixes for the overall narrative, and these are people who came up with this stuff in a matter of a few days or weeks, or sometimes just a few hours. you can't blame me for thinking veteran bioware writers - who SHOULD know their own lore by now - could have come up with something better than this in that amount of time, regardless of the limitations. choices were made and things were prioritized that shouldn't have been. I do not forgive the writers, EA, or bioware execs for this, and I will continue to criticize the responsible parties for the product we were sold, which includes criticizing the writers for shoddy work.

tl;dr: I don't believe the writing team made the best of the time they had and I fault them for that. but maybe that's on me for hoping that a game with its narrative led by weekes and epler would have actually been good in the first place.

[in-case-of-grace]

TTRPG Devlog: Qet and Inaccessible Names

I've been boiling a thought in the back of my mind lately, in regards to Naming Things in Fiction.

Newer folk may not know this, but my longest running creative endeavour has been Qet; a dark fantasy eldritch horror setting with inspiration from various Mesoamerican cultures and histories. It's a worldbuilding project, narrative setting, and TTRPG-- relegated to the backburner for over a year now. I needed a break.

Herein lies my problem: Qet's "common" equivalent language is a conlang inspired by Nahuatl.

English-first speakers, particularly fellow Americans, struggle a LOT with Nahuatl and anything similar to it. I'm American so my audience would...include a lot of Americans. Naturally a lot of the friends I'd want to run the game for are also American.

People struggle to read a lot of the proper nouns in Qet. An early first draft campaign took place in the deep caverns of Tchaoxlik, and the players were given Zykeutuezyl-- little light-emitting lizards-- as their primary source of light, to care for.

The bottomless lake Chluetichlon is significant in the lore, the Coulqepluex are a major ethnicity, and Qeplueoytz are shape-shifting monsters entire campaigns could center around. I've more examples, but you get the idea by now, I'm sure.

Part of Qet's inception was me noticing that US/UK fantasy overwhelmingly takes inspiration from European cultures, and That Sucks! There's so much more in the world, for one-- and this is fantasy! I want to see UNIQUE worlds that aren't just England But With Magic. Qet was my first worldbuilding project, and at the time I began, I had yet to develop the ability to just...make new stuff off the dome.

So I needed a solid inspiration from the real world as a starting point, and I chose something I thought was severely underrepresented: Mesoamerica. There is no 1:1 "this is the Maya but they're blue" or "here's the Olmec but they're birds" type stuff in Qet, rather, there's bits and bobs spread amongst original cultures and the world they live in. Corn is a staple food. The climate is hot and humid with a lot of shared flora from the real world Mesoamerican region-- but more differentiated fauna. One culture wears Aztec-inspired capes but live in Pueblo-inspired adobe homes. Polished obsidian mirrors play into eldritch magic. Some cultures sit and sleep on reed mats. One regional religion is a blend of the Aztec faith and Catholicism. Alongside these and many other bits of inspiration, the trade language of the world is Qetlec, which is inspired by Nahuatl.

I quite like a lot of the Qetlec names and words I've come up with over the years. I find several to be particularly satisfying to say! But I do have to admit that I, myself, had to train and practice to pronounce my own conlang. It may be second nature after years of working with it, but I often run into the dreaded "sbah...sbshs...uh...however you say it" or blatant word-butchering from new readers. It's an accessibility problem, after a certain point.

When I think of naming in fictional settings I return time and time again to what I believe to be a shining example of strong, accessible naming: Destiny.

Everything players need to know has a simple name that's typically just straight up English, no matter how alien. The Eliksni? Well that's a difficult name for some, so to players they're just...called "The Fallen." Other alien groups are simply titled: The Cabal, The Vex (who are actually made of radiolarian fluid-- another difficult name), and The Hive.

When they do concoct unique names for things, they do so in a way that should be easy to pronounce for their primarily English speaking audience. Fikrul. Mithrax. Oryx. Savathun is probably the most difficult one and that still seems fairly easy for players to pick up on.

Sometimes Destiny takes proper nouns from existing languages on Earth, but does so in the same manner-- sticking either to words English spakers already know or could feasibly pronounce with ease. Rasputin. Osiris. Ahamkara.

Destiny's player-facing setting is one that is crafted to be accessible. They're careful with their names. It's in the weird background lore that things may get complicated from time to time-- where it's not essential for players to be able to pronounce everything.

Qetlec isn't the only conlang in Qet, there are several others, but I'm less worried about them. It's reasonable to expect that English readers can pronounce Lhehd names like Hanviehl, Ahndel Veha, and Linnh; Tolech names like Mochog, Romtol, and Kupuch; or Auroullott names like Beuttep, Tteunor, and Auroboll.

Eldritch names are fine to be a bit difficult, I think, but I ride the line with those too-- Ul'jvot, Gaegoed, Kub-glorrha. Yaesheuhnahl is right at the edge but, it is a god made of 3 separate entities (Yaesh, Euhn, and Ahl) so I think it's not totally unreasonable.

It's Qetlec in specific that I think causes problems, which is a really big shame because I think it adds a lot to the world's flavor. But it includes a lot of sounds that aren't readily apparent, with things like "x" actually being pronounced "sh" or tight consonant/vowel pairings unfamiliar to the English reader like "ytz" "zyk" and "qeu." Hell, even beyond pairings-- the letters q, y, and z aren't super common in English! (Y is common at the *ends* of words but not at the start.)

I've tried some halfway measures here and there. I include pronunciation tooltips on every word I think folk may have difficulty with-- but that's only really doable on a webpage. In recent years, anything I added that I thought might be difficult to pronounce included an English alternative name. Gaiwej: Whispering Mouth. Asdeom: Adaptive Flesh. Zeloutihue: Lunatic of Lliaq. P'qur: The Labyrinth of Gods.

You get the idea.

I think it did work in making things more accessible, but it did bother me a little that this made the titles of each article much, much longer. It did make for names that were easier to remember, and, crucially-- look up. It was a bit of a have-your-cake-and-eat-it-too solution.

However, while this might work for a setting presented in a wiki format-- it doesn't work for a book or TTRPG. If you find yourself in a canyon and spot something in the distance you wish to warn your comrades of-- are you really going to shout "everyone look out for the Asdeom: Adaptive Flesh?" No. You're going to pick one or the other-- "Asdeom" or "Adaptive Flesh."

If your comrades have internalized only one of the two names, especially the one opposite what you called out-- they might be confused. We solved one problem only to create a new one! The easier solution is to simply have one, memorable-- and pronounceable-- name.

And that's where I'm stuck, I suppose. I'm attached to the many unpronouncible names of Qet and I know I must do away with them. I need to make new rules that limit how many syllables they may have, and cut out sounds that are difficult for English speakers.

Part of me thinks I need to start entirely from scratch on Qetlec instead of just reworking what's there. That I'm going to be too blinded by familiarity to spot all the problem areas, or too attached to change key nouns. Is "Zeloutihue" totally fine and pronounceable for the average English speaker? I can't tell! I'm lost in the sauce here!

If words like zykeutuezyl and olxlikliz are totally easy for me by now, how can I judge everything else fairly?

This is all to say, hey, think about this from the start. Don't make my mistakes and end up in this pit with me-- if you want your project to be accessible to your intended audience, consider the language(s) they might speak. What sounds are they familiar with? Could they feasibly pronounce all the important terminology in your work?

I'd love to hear folks' thoughts on this, what do you think? What would you do in my situation? What good or bad examples of accessible conlang have you come across? How have your own projects approached conlangs and names?

[linkons-most-wanted]

LaDS Fanfic & Lore Resource

I am documenting all of the Love and Deepspace lore over on GitHub!

View the WIP project here (Project contains many untagged spoilers!!)

I'm using a free mapping program called Obsidian that's basically a red string board in app form. Everything!! is connected!! The lore is so detailed and it's been so satisfying to go through.

So far, I have the main story up through Long Awaited Revelry, plus all anecdotes and the Beyond Cloudfall myth. I wanted to go ahead and share even though it's WIP since I've already made so many interesting connections.

For example, the format is still a bit rough but this Main Story Timeline gives an approx month/year for every event in the main story. Based on multiple sources, the main story almost certainly starts in July 2048!

More info below

GitHub/Obsidian are easy to set up if you have a basic coding background, but I know it's not the most accessible. If there's enough interest, I'll consider paying to host it through Obsidian so it's more of a normal web page, it's not too expensive! You can still click around and read the project in GitHub, but the document links won't work.

If you maintain a wiki, please feel free to use anything from this project! Mainly why I didn't contribute to a wiki is I wanted to add a lot of commentary along the way, as well as only really tracking what's important for fanfic/lore theories. Take any commentary with a grain of salt, as I'm consistently updating it as I bring new pieces in.

Since the storytelling of the game is pretty non-linear, my hope is also that the summaries of the main story and anecdotes help folks more easily understand the story. The game likes to be mysterious at first, but it often becomes quite clear once all the pieces are revealed.

One of my favorite things about the lore is that it follows romance conventions more than sci-fi conventions, so "because love" is the reason behind a lot of canon decisions 🥹 But there's still a lot of sci-fi to enjoy!

Anyway, I hope you'll forgive me for the WIP and I hope this reaches the other folks who are as obsessive about the lore as I am!

[keelt9]

Episode 5

Masterlist // OP.5

"Grandpa will be crazy if he sees this." I said holding the face of Pharaoh as we stood in the corniche.

Down there among the cocoa trees and a green field a lot of equipment and a replica of an F1 car is taking place, a shoot of the promotional for the partnership, a lot of lights and people walking around as the branches and leaves are moving and shaking like it's another piece of paper. 

Pharaoh reigns, pulling his head. "I know, Ford is angry as hell."

The full straight posture and the black hat are the only things you need to notice;  Ford is standing next to the director, falcon eyes in every movement and probably a tight fist every second they harm the trees. 

"Let's go boy, we had a long training ahead."

This day, Walter wants to see how Pharaoh will react when he finds out I ride horses one more time. We just want to make sure all goes under control; after all, Obsidian and he are siblings just with 3 years of difference, plus Azabache will be around too.

"Nervous?" Walter asked as I secured my helmet.

"Just a little bit." I observed how Obsidian and Pharaoh are preparing as Azabache sees them with curious eyes. 

It's the first time Azabache sees his father and Obsidian wearing so many things over them as people walk around them making sure they are comfortable, it must be a full show for him.

"Ok, it will be simple, you ride Obsidian as we monitor Pharaoh if things go as I imagine, probably the big guy had a few minutes with you." Walter said, giving me my gloves and my jacket. "Clear?"

"Like water." I said high five with him, as Obsidian approached calm and steady. "Ready girl?"

Obsidian reigns down her head. "Yeah, she's ready." 

I go up, adjusting my posture as Obsidian relaxes and waits for any order; I glance at Pharaoh who was held by Rachel, pull a little bit, but she manages to calm him down patting his back.

"Ok, girl, let's walk a little bit." I tap softly on her side, making her start to walk around, Pharaoh has stuck his eyes on us. "I'm ok, relax Pharaoh." He lifts his eyes from Obsidian walking one side to the other.

For the way Walter nods to me after watching Pharaoh we knew it, he's ready. Still I walk with Obsidian another 20 minutes from time to time increasing the speed with judging eyes from Walter but a satisfied smile.

"Ok, Y/N, let's switch." Walter said, grabbing the bridle of Pharaoh as he approaches where Obsidian stops as I get down. "Everything all right?"

"Fine, see..." I show him my trembling hand. "I'm thrilled in the most positive way."

Pharaoh sniffed around me. "Ready big guy? Ok, let's see how this goes."

In one simple impulse I ride Pharaoh, he with his strong legs, stays still like anyone is moving up on him. "Good boy." I scoff caress his neck. 

Pharaoh walks calmly with multiple eyes on him, after a while he shows off jogging around the arena taking chuckles from everyone, he likes to be the main show.

"Can I jump those?" I point to the lonely obstacle in the middle; Walter narrows his eyes. "Come on! See him! He's dancing around."

Pharaoh turns around in one delicate, head up high and legs steady.

"Just once." Walter said, taking his phone out, recording the movements.

"Ok, boy, don't rush, anything is on the line, just let's enjoy this moment." I start to increase the speed, lifting me slowly when Pharaoh reaches the speed we need. 

I won't lie a sharp but short cramp run through my back but quickly starts to fade away, finally I direct Pharaoh to the bar and in one single and coordinated move, we lift in the air crossing the bar and ending with elegance, in that moment loud shouts heard around the arena. 

Mom arrived with Ford who shouts and claps loudly; Pharaoh is pleased with the claps, after all dad was right, these horses are ready for other things.

I get down for a while, received by everyone high fives and praise words. 

"She can have a small walk around the house?" Ford asked with pleading eyes to Walter. "Please!"

That's what we did with grandpa, we walked around the house just to enjoy the time together. After he passed away, Ford and I took our time to keep doing it.

Mom intercede for us. "Please Walter, she's fresh and healthy."

Walter shakes his head. "20 minutes, no more."

Ford and I high five giggling as little kids. "Mom can I..."

"Nebula is ready." Ford runs outside as I get up one more time over Pharaoh.

"The ears covers are out, be careful." Rachel said, patting Pharaoh back, since he’s a baby he’s been very sensitive about spontaneous and loud sounds. "And have fun."

I click my tongue twice making Pharaoh run to the open arena. 

"DON'T RUN THAT FAST!" I heard Walter scream but Pharaoh is an equestrian horse, we are equestrian team, we can't walk around all the time.

We met Ford and Nebula, crossing the big door that guides you to the cocoa trees, running as we smile. In our way loud gasps make us giggle as people from McLaren see the big horses running with us; they are packing I guess calling a wrap for today.

The first cocoa tree that our grand grandpa seeds, it’s getting bigger and bigger as we approche. It stops being picked, now it is just a reminder of how much we've grown up.

"He would be so proud of you, you know that?" Ford says as the horses cross one to the side of the other when we finally arrive. "You fall, rest and go back fighting again. That's what we do."

Like we had a watch, 20 minutes later, we entered the backyard of the main house. Normally this area is used for the horses rest besides drink and eat after a long day; just this time in the backyard multiple orange shirts as black are walking inside, scared when they see the two big horses running.

"Ooo." Ford and I stopped pulling the lead of the horses. What the hell are these people doing here? They were supposed to be in the main entrance.

"Sorry, sorry, I should warn you." Nanny appears walking outside of the house. "But..."

"Dad." Ford and I haven't to ask who this brilliant idea is, he should tell us these things, the horses could scare and bad things could happen. 

"So, you're old man wasn't lying." Zak Brown appears at the back of us making Pharaoh try to stand but he remembers who is at his back. "You're actually a star."

Ford laughs dryly, walking around with Nebula, as Pharaoh sniffs head up straight.

"Can I..." He extends his hand making Pharaoh turns around taking distance. "I guess no."

Nanny made a sign probably to one of the girls so the boys came for the horses.

"Pharaoh doesn't like being touched." I warn Zak getting down on him. "Less from people who he hasn't seen before."

Zak smirks. "You had a wonderful one, must cost a fortune." 

Ford goes down, grabbing tight Nebula who is pulling to walk out of there. "You can't buy everything Mr. Brown." Ford stands next to me. 

Zak tried to approach Pharaoh one more time, he bluffed loudly. For the way he shakes, Pharaoh is getting angry and of course I still haven’t the strength to contain her anger issues and Ford can’t let go of Nebula who keeps pussing to get away from Zak.

“Yo…” A man appears behind us standing in front of Pharaoh and Zak.

Pushing him away. “Come on Zak, we're already here, let’s work on this, we’re against the clock.” 

Oscar is here?

The confusion in my eyes only increases when Fords looks at me with the same expression.

“Kid you’re here.” Zak smiles hugging him by the shoulders, stealing his attention from the horses.

I blink in white as Bill and James run to the garden ready to take the horses away, as I keep observing Oscar walking away with Zak, if you don’t pay enough attention you could lose the fact that Zak has a “Ok” sign on Oscar’s hands. 

“He was?” Ford asks as I nod. “You said he wasn’t supposed to be here.” 

“That’s what he told me.” I’m confused, and curious, the worst combination. “I find out.”

“Thank god! you’re here.” Walter appears at our backs. “I need you in the studio.” 

I stop dry one step near the door where Oscar disappears. “Now?”

Walter walks to me and hugs me. “Yeah now.”

“But…” I see Ford laughing for being dragged to the opposite side where I want to go, following us as shaking his head. 

In the studio my parents are there with other people that I clearly recognize. Mr. Hudson and Mr. Porter. Year by year they coordinate one of the most prestigious equestrian shows, we call the precursor for the big competitions. 

Have a good demonstration and eyes will be on you along with a few tips of old champions and, did I mention about the important sponsorships you could get?

After a long talk about how my recover is and the fact I’m back in a horse the put the offer in the table, literally,

“We are planning a special show this year.” Apparently everyone already saw the paper for the way they looked at me. “It’s our 25th anniversary so we want to make it special, when Walter told us you’re already back on a horse we, for sure, couldn’t let you behind.”

On paper it looks amazing, all types of demonstration, agility, speed, and my forte, a competition, called “All in one.”

“We don’t want to pressure you Y/N, but we’ll be pleased having you there, even if it’s just for bragging about your horses.” Mr. Porter jokes pointing to the photo of the studio, me over Obsidian. “Don’t pressure yourself Y/N, it’s in a  couple of months, take your time and when you have a decision let us know.” 

I smile seeing dad and mom with proud faces. “Yeah, sure, thanks.”

“No, please, thanks to you.” Mr Hudson stands shaking my hand. “You’re a masterpiece, we've been missing you crashing other people.”

All laughs as they shake their hands before leaving the studio, Ford offers to go with them to the entrance. 

“What do you think?” I asked Walter. 

Walter smiles. “If you want, we can be ready for it.”

I grip the paper on my hand. “Let’s do it.”

When Ford opened the door one more time I saw an orange shirt and it reminded me what was my initial plan.

“Hey, I have… something to do.” I stand giving the paper to Ford. “We can go back to practice tomorrow, right?” 

Walter nods as a curious face sees me practically running out of the studio. “See you for dinner.”

If I already saw Oscar, I’ll go with someone who surely has already seen him too.

“Kaila!” I make the poor girl jump screaming her name at her back. “Sorry, sorry, I scared you.”

Kaila breathed when she saw me. “Y/N, you made my soul leave my body.” 

I laughed; this kid always has something you can laugh at. “Hey, have you…”

“Seen Oscar, sure.” She points to the stables. “He was looking for you too.”

My smile fades away, when I realize in fact all the horses have not arrived yet.

“Alone?” Kaila assent realizing that he could be alone with Pharaoh. “Don’t worry, Pharaoh is in the green field, I’ll go to see him, ok?” 

Kaila nods, more relaxed and calm; a white lie won't hurt anyone.

I go running to the stables, no one is around just hoping the horses are still in the green field, just Pharaoh and Nebula are already in the stables.

But when I arrive I have to rub my eyes because I swear my eyes are playing tricks with me. 

Oscar is carness Pharaoh snouts as he calmly breathes, actually enjoying each other's company.

Pharaoh was the first one who saw me, he took his head from Oscar's hands making Oscar turn to his left where I was, speechless waiting. I barely reached to get a smirk when Oscar lifted me in a big hug. 

“Ford sent me the video.” He whispered to me. “Did I tell you I’m proud of you?” 

I laughed and hugged him too, letting him puff up my ego as he always does.

Oscar told me he and Lando came in at the last minute; he couldn't be more grateful for that, honestly me neither; even if they just had another day, it’s more than enough for us to talk and he could see Pharaoh in action.

“Y/N, Houston calling Y/N.” Walter touched my shoulder calling for my attention. “I know your wood doors are clearly impressive but we had such an amazing horse waiting.”

Oscar promised he would find a way to watch me ride Pharaoh but it passed 15 minutes and he hasn’t come yet. 

“Sorry, yeah, I’m ready.” I tap Pharaoh's neck as Walter takes a few steps behind. 

I carefully take the impulse, getting comfortable as Pharaoh does too, our small guest Azabache walking around the arena observing his father with attentive eyes. 

“Ok little champ, take things calmly ok?” Walter crosses his arms resting his chin on his hand. “A few runs and some obstacles for today, any…”

I interrupt him because I know this speech. “Any discomfort I’ll let you know.” Walter rolls his eyes. “Coach, I’m not a rookie, you know?”

Pharaoh sings as I pat softly on his back. “See, even he’s kind of pissed off.” 

“Pharaoh always is pissed off.” Pharaoh turns around, walking to bump his head with his arms. “We can play this game boy.”

I laughed as our training started, Pharaoh doesn’t need so much guidance, since he’s been able to do this probably at the age of Azabache he barely needs to show him where he needs to go first. 

The runs feel pretty great any sore at any point and the bars barely cause me a type of discomfort. 

“Good boy.”  I see the triple bars. “What if…” 

Pharaoh understands two clicks of my tongue and Pharaoh knows what to do, he takes a few laps around the arena, as I see Walter and his eyes turning wide. In a single and clear impulse Pharaoh jumps a triple bar landing gracefully as he slows down his peace.

The loud claps make Pharaoh turn his head trying to find where the sound came from. Sitting in the fence of the arena, Oscar and Lando are clapping loudly.

“Amazing!” Lando screams, making Pharaoh want to show off standing on two legs, taking me by surprise but gripping the rein. 

Walter walks, shaking his head and his hand at the level of his chest.

“A cardiologist, I need one.” I laughed when I saw Oscar. “Go, show off a little bit more, then, the recovery exercise.” I was about to complain but Walter pat Pharaoh back to start to walk one more time.

After another 40 minutes of practice we called it a wrap, as I got down, we let Azabache approach us, stopping in front of me. 

“One more week boy and I bet you’re going to put pressure on your dad.” If our plan goes as we expect we hope Azabache does a small appearance along with his father.

Azabache reigns walking where his father is, taking out all the items we need.

“What do you think?” I asked the two drivers to take  out my helmet. 

“Are you sure you were injured?” Lando asked, making Oscar push him, almost losing his balance.

“Pretty sure.” I answer playfully . 

Lando raises his hand for a high five. “Well, it doesn’t look like that, amazing.”

I high five. “You?” I ask to see Oscar.

“You even have to ask?” He goes down, raising his arms but letting keep at his sides. “Fantastic.”

Lando observes us before he drops a bomb. “Hey, I hear your parents will go to Monza for the Gran Prix, you evil twins will go?” 

Oscar cough. “It would be great if you go, it’s, beside Australia, one of Oscar’s favorite GPs.” 

I see him blush as he lets me go. “It is?”

“Well, yeah, but hey, I got it, it…” I think for more than a few seconds it’s the next week and my parents will go, so…

“Why not? Still I’m not wearing anything orange, though.” Oscar astonishment is cute. Big eyes as he fights to contain a smile. 

“Y/N, let 's go.” Walter said following Azabache and Pharaoh out of the arena.

“Sorry guys, I have to go.” I turn around. “See you at dinner.” 

Fightin for not screaming for the way Oscar is watching me.

[lalathemediterraneanmermaid]

What do ikeprince suitors smell like? Pt. 1

Have you ever wondered how our pookies would smell or what perfumes woulds they wear if they were real? Because I do, and it almost keeps me awake at night. But don't worry, I'm here to satisfy your curiosity. I've assigned each IkePri suitor scents and perfumes based on information from the routes and, of course, mainly on the vibes they give me.

Sariel Noir

The Palace Devil definitely wears a complex yet sophisticated perfume, with a fresh and spicy top note and a warm, woody base.

Notes: mint, ginger, cinnamon, cardamom, vetiver and tonka beans.

Perfumes he might like:

Five O'Clock Au Gingembre - Serge Lutens - His favourite

Spicebomb - Viktor & Rolf

Noir Extreme - Tom Ford

(He also has the Miss Dior perfume, courtesy of Clavis, but he keeps it because he secretly loves his troublemaker lil baby, but ssshhh.)

Rio Ortiz

The Puppy Butler uses a vibrant and cheerful perfume with fresh floral vibes and a sweet warm base.

Notes: mandarin, sweet lemon, neroli, orange flower, peach and amber.

Perfumes he might like:

Light Blue Intense - Dolce & Gabbana

Orange blossom - Jo Malone London - His favourite

Versace Pour Homme - Versace

Keith Howell

The Gentle Stag goes for something more fresh and citrusy with a heavy heart of herbal spices and aromatic herbs on top of a woody base.

Notes: bergamot, yuzu, basil, clove leaf, vetiver and cedarwood.

Perfumes he might like:

Neroli Portofino - Tom Ford

Bleu de Chanel Eau de Parfum - Chanel

Colonia Club - Acqua di Parma - His favourite

Emerald Thyme - Jo Malone

Forest Lungs - The Nue Co.

Silvio Ricci

Our Haughty Jingler Jangler is definitely tied to the ocean (and alcohol). I feel like he would go for something fresh and spiced with a sophisticated warm base. Also, he's a bougie boy, so he has a lot of perfumes. He doesn't have a favourite perfume, because he loves the layering technique, he is unique and doesn't want anyone smelling as good as him, period.

Notes: Ron, mandarin, bergamot, mint, nutmeg, cardamom, amber, musk, ambrette seed, sea salt and sea moss.

Perfumes he might like:

Bvlgari Man Extreme - Bvlgari

Allure Homme Èdition Blanche - Chanel

Wood Sage & Sea Salt - Jo Malone London

Herbal Aquatica - Montale

Fougeres Marines - Montale

Virgin Island Water - Creed

Un Jardin en Méditerranée - Hermès

Seahorse - Zoologist Perfumes

Gilber Von Obsidian

This pookie The conqueror beast smells like the blood and fear from his enemies, just kidding. He probably likes winter fresh like scents with some herbal and floral notes on top of a woody base. Something that dries out warm and kind of sweet.

Notes: Sweet basil, fennel, neroli, winter daphne, blacktea, rum, amber and vanilla.

Perfumes he might like:

Noir Extreme - Tom Ford (He probably stole it from Sariel while visiting his boyfriend bff Chevi)

Terre d'Hermès - Hermès

Viking - Creed - His favourite

Silver Mountain Water - Creed

Kagari Amagase

We still don't know much about this dorayaki lover kitty (Doraemon is that you?) so this is just based on assumptions. We know he is competitive, he seems elegant and sophisticated at first sight and has stolen the hearts of the fandom with those feline eyes. So I feel like he goes for citrusy and fresh scents, with a bit of spice an sweetnes on top of a warm and sensual base.

Notes: Bergamot, mandarin, ginger, cherry blossom, white floral, ylang-ylang, cinnamon, sandalwood, amber and musk.

Perfumes he might like:

Gabrielle - Chanel

Premier Figuier - L’Artisan Parfumeur

Zen for Men - Shiseido - His favourite

Especially Escada - Escada

Azel Radwan

We also don't know much about Tanzanite's God. But we know that he is a God, and ethereal, and beautiful, an slay, and a God, and mysterious, and a God, maybe broke (but we still love him), and he is a God. We can't forget that he is a God, 'cause he is a God, just in case you didn't know he is a God. He definitely smells divine, aromatic and warm, maybe kind of spicy with white florals. He gives me vibes that he has a huge collection of arabian perfumes, 'cause he a sassy.

Notes: ylang-ylang, lotus flower, bergamot, jasmine, violet, frankincense, amber, oud, musk, tea, tonka beans and vanilla.

Perfumes he might like:

Royal Oud - Creed

Oud Wood - Tom Ford

Interlude Man - Amouage - His favourite

Reflection Man - Amouage

Royal princess Oud - Creed

Mukhallat - Montale

Borneo 1834 - Serge Lutens

Matthias Asbrink

Again, we still don't know much about him, but we do know that our cold boy is a firm and strict protector of law and justice. I don't know about you, but I feel like he smells like a breath in a snowy mountain at midwinter, refreshing, almost freezing. But he is elegant, discreet and sophisticated. He might seem cold but I'm sure he is warm and cozy on the inside (and a little freak iykyk). If I had to describe his scent vibe in a sentence it would probably be "like drinking a hot chocolate in front of a fireplace after a morning in the middle of the snowy mountains of Northern Europe."

Notes: Snow, cypress, honeysuckle, cardamom, bergamot, iris, lavender, clove, vetiver, cedarwood, leather, cinnamon and chocolate.

Perfumes he might like:

Homme Intense - Dior

Aventus - Creed

Silver Mountain Water - Creed - One of his favourites

Black Orchid - Tom Ford

Chocolate Greedy - Montale

Man In Black - Bvlgari

Glacial Essence - Bvlgari

Gentleman - Givenchy - One of his favourites

Snowy Owl - Zoologist Perfumes - Another favourite because you gifted it to him. You thought it was cute that the cold man from the north that has an owl as his crest deserved a perfume cutely named "Snowy Owl".

Penguin - Zoologist Perfumes

And here it ends part 1 of "What do ikeprince suitors smell like?". Stay tuned for part 2 with our iconic princes of Rhodolite my dearies. Love you all!!!!

[aquareus]

✨book recommendations✨ based on my last three years of active reading, out of 108 books, & listed in read order (* = a personal favorite)

A Psalm for the Wild-Built & A Prayer for the Crown-Shy, Becky Chambers - sci-fi, lgbtq, novella duology. utopian future post-robots. heart-warming messages/commentary with plenty of robot-companion fun.

Know My Name, Chanel Miller - memoir. very important read.

In The Dream House, Carmen Maria Machado - memoir. a beautifully and uniquely crafted perspective on abusive lesbian relationships.

A Strange & Stubborn Endurance, Foz Meadows - (tw: early on-page rape) fantasy, lgbtq. this book was a much needed comfort during a very hard time. despite that, the m/m romance and character arcs were well-done and satisfying. the tw section made for a bumpy start, but I enjoyed the rest without a hitch.

* The Jasmine Throne, Tasha Suri - fantasy, lgbtq, magic. w/w romance between someone that should be dead and the rightful heir to a throne. really lovely world-building, characters, and angst. the final book in the trilogy is sitting on my table staring me down as we speak (and will likely make this a favorite series).

* The Obsidian Tower (* entire trilogy), Melissa Caruso - fantasy, magic, lgbtq. this is my favorite series so far and it's completely based on personal preference - epitome of "if I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more". the characters, the world, the magical elements, everything hit exactly right FOR ME.

Angles Before Man, Rafael Nicolas - mythology retelling, lgbtq. this is an interesting one: the story of lucifer with a fresh new perspective. i need to buy and annotate this badly.

Finding Me, Viola Davis - memoir. beautifully written, beautifully narrated, and another important read.

* The Mask of Mirrors (* entire trilogy, but especially *Liar's Knot), M. A. Carrick - epic fantasy, magic, lgbtq. where do I even start. i love these bitches like family.

Educated, Tara Westover - memoir. wild ride.

I'm Glad My Mom Died, Jennette McCurdy - memoir. this one's pretty self-explanatory.

* Chain-Gang All-Stars, Nana Kwame Adjei-Brenyah - the last two lines of this book killed me on the spot. such an important and impactful read.

A Memory Called Empire, Arkady Martine - scifi, space opera, lgbtq. amazing premise, and very memorable first book. curious what the rest of the duology will bring.

All of Us Villains & All of Our Demise, Foody & Herman - YA, magic, fantasy. just a really fun and unique tournament duology. the second book especially ate for me ('cause my fav wishful pairing got together and I love being insane and correct).

* Thistlefoot, GennaRose Nethercott - mythology, magical realism, lgbtq. book about a living chicken house with hard-hitting commentary on the importance of bearing witness.

Wings of Fire, Tui T. Sutherland - MG, fantasy, dragons. just a precious little series that I can always trust to be a good time.

Spin of Fate, A. A. Vora - fantasy, YA, future lgbtq hinted. loved the captivating world, magic, and interesting main characters. dying for the next book.

Strange the Dreamer, Laini Taylor - fantasy (duology), magic. first book was immersive, dreamy, and highly engaging. i wish the second book was granted more time + pages/another book to do everything and everyone justice.

The Bullet Swallower, Elizabeth Gonzalez James - historical fiction, magical realism. the first historical fiction to actually make me want to try the genre again.

my goodreads for any interested parties.

[casteliacityramen]

Impossible.

Rio stared, dumbfounded, to the heavens as she lay on her back. She charged at the intruder with a steel wing, but he caught her attack between his palms and threw her onto the ground like a rag doll. She thought the first time was a fluke, but if he was able to do it a second time…

The dust cleared from her vision to reveal the cloudless sky. The sun suddenly felt all too bright and all too revealing.

"How?" Rio asked, lying still on the ground with her wings spread flat on the dry dirt, "How did you catch that?"

"You might be the strongest wyvern on Twist Mountain," The Hero King of Ideals beamed, "but I'm the baddest living thing on the West side of this continent!"

The Hero placed his hands on his hips, took a deep inhale through his nose, and laughed out his exhale.

"Hah! I miss how simple this is," the Hero brushed a lock of light green hair away from his face, "'Might makes right' is the easiest governing system of all. Just be the strongest and you get to make all the rules!"

Rio craned her neck upwards off the ground to glare at this… naked mankey. This sack of meat and bone who dared to trespass into her territory and challenge her authority. The same one who dared to claim that he was the strongest person here, in front of her.

She's beaten everything from a raging Hydreigon to an entire Durant colony. Ever since she was born, she fought wing, fang, and talon to establish herself on this mountain. Her mountain.

This is beyond insulting!

"Your Majesty, your hands-"

"Ah, what of them? This is nothing!" The King turned towards his group of bodyguards and raised both his clenched fists into the air. Small trickles of blood dripped from under his tattered gloves and down onto his forearms.

"I haven't had this much excitement in years!" The Hero King exclaimed. His face fell a little when his company provided concerned glances instead of the roars and cheers that he was typically used to.

He turned to Rio and extended a hand for her to help herself, but Rio frowned deeply at the sight of the dirtied, bloodied gesture. With a beat of her wings against the ground, she flew up, rolled to level herself, and levitated at eye level with him.

The human and pokemon guards raised their respective weapons, fangs, horns, and claws at her, but an obsidian colored dragon raised a clawed hand to lower them. The one whose name she heard whispered throughout the valleys surrounding Twist Mountain. The one she actually wanted to fight. Zekrom.

"You're going to give your wife so much grief when she finds out you've been wrestling with dragons again," Zekrom laughed.

The Hero shrugged and wiped his hands on his clothes the same way a child would brush their palms after eating something sticky.

"What do you want?" Rio glowered.

"I'm sorry, my friend. May I borrow your cloak? I will get you a new one," The King completely ignored her, speaking to a young guard. He ignored the guard, too, since the question was asked after the cloak was already torn and wrapped around his hands.

"I asked you a question!" Rio shouted, her mouth spewing technicolor flames as she readied a dragons breath. Her outburst included a pulse of psychic energy which blew the dust and sand away, leaving everyone in the vicinity clearly in view.

This time, Zekrom didn't stop the guards from taking up their arms to protect their king and crown. Any sign of playfulness dropped from his face as he tensed his own body. However, the Hero King made a gesture as if he were patting unleavened dough with both hands, telling everyone to stand down and relax.

"I've heard stories about you," The Hero King finally turned to address Rio after calming down his posse:

"I've heard stories about a dragon who felled everyone who dared challenge her. The possessed Demon of Twist Mountain… terrifying my subjects," The King loosened and clenched his fists to get a feel of his makeshift bandages. Satisfied, he lowered his hands and looked her straight in the eyes:

"But I also heard stories about a benevolent dragon who offered shelter in her territory as long as you brought her a gift. It didn't even have to be that grandiose. A single oran berry would suffice as an offering, as long as you were genuine. Which of these stories are true?"

The King continued to smile, despite the imminent danger. He raised his hands towards her, as if he were marveling at a grand statue of himself.

"I had to see for myself! No matter what you hear about someone, you never truly know them unless you fight them. And now I understand more than what these stories told me. Now, I want you to work for me."

The Hero King looked behind him for a reaction. The royal guards looked at each other in confusion and worry, but Zekrom rolled his eyes and laughed as if to say, "Of course you would." That was all the validation he needed.

"Perish the thought," Rio spat back.

"Oh? But what if I were to defeat you once more in this bout? What say you?" The King lowered his stance, his arms in front of him in a braced position like some sort of feral beast, "What's the saying? The third time is the charm?"

Rio felt her face get hot. Her pride and image was on the line. She couldn't let this go. She clenched her teeth, dispelling the dragon fire as she readied another physical attack.

"I'll make this deal of yours. If this is what it takes for you to get excited at your own death, so be it," Rio sharply laughed.

"Give me another story I can tell my kids!" The Hero grinned excitedly as he twisted his feet further into the dirt.

"Come!" The Hero King shouted at the top of his lungs, his voice loud enough to rattle a lesser man's bones, "Let's see if the Demon of Twist Mountain has what it takes to kill this king!"

If Rio was less enraged, she would have noticed the pebbles near the King's feet levitating off the ground. She would've seen the hand wraps whip around with more force than what the wind could provide. She would've reconsidered the moment she saw everyone, even Zekrom, take a worried step back.

But Rio was all too happy to oblige. With all of her strength, she darted forward like an arrow released from a bow, aiming to shatter the human's ribs with a Zen Headbutt. The air felt like it caught on fire and exploded from the sheer speed and sudden acceleration...

... And then she tasted dirt, stone, and dust. Again.

Impossible.

|| Ray's First Interaction with the King of Truth | Pinned Post ||

[studying0bl1n]

just saying hello!

I started transferring my notes from text books to Obsidian! I had never used the software before, and I loved seeing the connections emerge as I added content. Very satisfying ~

Tomorrow (06/16) I have my last final exam (neuroanatomy) and after that my classes end for the winter break - I can't call it a vacation because I'm going to work on a scientific article to register for a conference, so I'm going to work a lot (I need to write a project to submit by September! help).

Due to the total influence of Tumblr dot com I started reading The Secret History by Donna Tartt and I am completely obsessed.

Now I'm leaving, byee ~

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

Our Love Will Remain the Same, Even as the World Changes

These translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Please support Cybird by buying their stories. Expect grammatical errors.

One night sometime after I came to live at the Obsidian Castle一

Lying side by side on the bed and talking had become our recent routine. Gilbert, who was gently playing with my hair with his fingertips, suddenly looked up.

Gilbert: "You being in this room has become completely normal, hasn't it?"

Gilbert: "How about you? Have you gotten used to living here?"

Emma: "Yup. I think I'm getting used to it."

Gilbert: "Yeah? Are there any problems or things you feel are lacking?"

Emma: "No problems in particular. As for things that are lacking..."

(I wonder if something happened.)

I glanced around the room and thought about our everyday life.

Gilbert: "If there's anything you want, just let me know."

Gilbert: "Whether it's jewelry, a mansion, a city, or even a country, I'll give you anything you want.

(City and country!?)

I couldn’t help but widen my eyes at the sheer scale of what he just said. However, if he really wanted to, he could easily do any of these things.

Emma: "No, it’s okay. I don’t need anything more. It’s more than enough!"

(If by some mistake he actually gives me a city or a country, I wouldn't know what to do!)

With that thought in mind, I vigorously declined his offer.

Gilbert: "Really?"

Yet he still seemed somewhat dissatisfied.

(Maybe I need to give him a convincing reason.)

With that thought, I nodded in agreement.

Emma: "It's true. Just being by your side is enough for me."

Gilbert: "Really?"

Emma: "Yes."

Gilbert: "You're so selfless."

He happily narrowed his eyes as he twirled my hair around his fingers.

Emma: "I'm just being honest."

Gilbert: "I know. I just wanted to hear those words from you."

He smiled wickedly.

Emma: "That's just like you."

Gilbert: "Ahaha! Don't sulk."

Gilbert: "I just wanted to feel that you want me more than anything else."

(This guy is really hopeless. But...)

I couldn't bring myself to dislike him for that. Eventually, my expression naturally softened.

Emma: "Did it go according to your plan?"

Gilbert: "Yes, very much."

With a satisfied smile, he pulled me closer.

Gilbert: "You fell for a troublesome man, huh?"

Emma: "Yeah, yet I'm still here."

Gilbert: "Ahaha! Is that so? You really like troublesome men."

Emma: "Maybe I do. I never knew that until I fell in love with you."

Gilbert: "Hmm, I see. Then, from now on, I'll become even more troublesome."

Emma: "What?"

He lifted my arms together and pressed his lips against the nape of my neck.

Emma: "............"

His teeth scraped against my skin, causing a slight stinging sensation.

I couldn't see it, but it must have left a mark.

Gilbert: "You ended up being loved by a villain, so don't expect a peaceful life."

Gilbert: "But I'll do my best to make you think that even this kind of daily life isn't so bad. Fufu."

Looking down at me with a playful smile, he slowly undressed my nightgown and teasingly licked my exposed breast with his tongue, causing my body to shiver.

Gilbert: "Nice view."

Emma: "Prince Gilbert, please let me go."

Gilbert: "Do I look like the kind of man who would let go when told to?"

Emma: "That's..."

(I can't tell. I guess not...?)

Finding my hesitation amusing, he burst out laughing and released the hands he had been holding down.

Gilbert: "Here, I let you go since you're special."

Emma: "Thanks."

Gilbert: "You're welcome. Since I listened to your request, what will you do for me in return?"

(I knew it would come to this.)

I wasn't by this troublesome man's side for nothing.

I wrapped my newly freed arms around his back and hugged him.

Emma: "I'll do this."

Gilbert: "Heh?"

Emma: "Instead of being forced, I will express my love to you willingly."

Gilbert: "That makes me happy. It was worth setting you free."

I kissed him on the lips, and he reciprocated.

Gilbert: "Fufu. It’s nice to feel that you truly love me."

Gilbert: "From now on, I want you to continue wanting me like this. Otherwise..."

Emma: "Otherwise?"

Gilbert: "I might take away your freedom and make it physically impossible for you to leave me."

I couldn't decide if he was joking, but he was smiling cheerfully.

(This guy is really a pain in the ass.)

As Gilbert said, I couldn't hope for a warm and peaceful life here.

(And yet, even at this moment, he looks at me earnestly as if he yearns for me.)

(That's why I still want to be by his side.)

The more I stayed close to him, the more his charm captivated me.

Despite him being troublesome and difficult to deal with, I couldn't seem to stay away.

With that thought in mind, we shared another kiss.

⊳ Ikepri Masterlist

[thelustrousyellowdiamond]

The Ending of the Story

OOC: Guys, I know I had said I'd update eventually, but mostly my interest has waned. For the sake of giving you all closure about what happens at the end, I'm just gonna jot down the bullet point version. If ya'll have further questions about some of my alternate plans and such, feel free to put those in the ask box.

It turns out that Obsidian is not being shocked by Yellow Diamond, but by White Diamond piloting the Diamond mech, while she is copying Yellow's powers. Obsidian tries to fight back as much as possible but is destabilized into Alexandrite and Steven.

White Diamond tries to kidnap Steven into her ship but Connie and Lion manage to rescue him. She also tries to kidnap Yellow and Blue as well.

Alexandrite pushes Yellow and Blue out of the way while the Diamond mech's foot crushes her and she completely loses her form.

Yellow, Blue, and Steven all fuse into Prismatic Diamond, a Diamond containing all colors in the rainbow and she fights with White Diamond.

The two Diamonds have a Beam-O-War with each other and White Diamond ends up getting corrupted, and Rainbow Diamond bubbles her.

Here is some concept art, although I do not feel quite satisfied with the look of Rainbow Diamond so if I had completed the story, I probably would have done something different.

Some of my concept art goes back to 2018

The Earth is finally safe, but Garnet, Amethyst, and Pearl have been shattered. Steven's tears heal them, but I did actually have a version of the story that is longer that ends up with the fight going to Homeworld, and they are healed, but they have been rejuvenated and lost their memories.

Actually in the longer version, Lapis would have used her water powers to lift the Cluster out of the Earth, through space, back to Homeworld, and White Diamond would have been poofed

In either case, Connie's parents arrive, worried, along with Greg, and while they are relieved that their children are safe, Steven and Connie end up revealing that they were pretty badly hurt in the fight with the reveal of just how much blood was on Connie's sword.

Steven and Connie's parents make the hard decision to move from Beach City, and even though the kids protest, ultimately the Maheswarens and Greg have the final say, however they are allowed a last day to pack up their things and say goodbye to everyone.

They all have a giant pizza party to celebrate the Earth being free, and Steven presents Yellow and Blue Diamond with the gift of two yellow and blue star shaped necklaces- telling them that even though their place is on Homeworld to sort things out in Era 3 and make a life better for their gems, they're now considered honorary Crystal Gems.

Many tears are shed as Steven is surrounded by a massive group hug.

Life is very hard for Steven after leaving Beach City due to missing his friends. But slowly over time, being away allows both him and Connie to heal from their traumatic childhood experiences, and they're both able to attend school together and get the professional help that they need. The Crystal Gems also make frequent visits to help support Steven as well, but he hasn't been back to the temple since moving.

Then, finally in the epilogue, Steven and Connie are engaged to be married. As young adults, not only do they revisit Beach City for old time's sake, but they also make a trip to Homeworld where Steven is able to see how much Homeworld has been restored.

At this time, he decides with Yellow and Blue Diamond that it's finally time to confront White Diamond and try to heal her. Their Pearls hold keys to the vault where she's kept so that the three of them all have to agree that it's safe to do so.

It is a struggle as a corrupted White Diamond emerges from the bubble, but with Steven's sense of adult maturity, his successful road to recovery, and the support of Yellow and Blue Diamond, the three of them are able to get through to her and finally accept herself, flaws and all. When she is healed, all four of them end up fusing into Prismatic Diamond (or you could call her Paragon which is a popular theory I've heard of)

I don't think I made as many pictures of her, but here's an unfinished concept anyways

Paragon unleashes a healing waves of light over the Earth, and all corrupted gems that still have not been recovered by the Crystal Gems are cured by this wave. Seeing this, the Crystal Gems back on Earth unbubble every single corrupted gem, and they are restored as well.

The 4 Diamonds unfuse, and while White is hesitant to adjust to this new reality that she lives in, Blue and Yellow promise to be there to support her.

Yellow Diamond herself reflects on her past and the things she's learned though learning to love Steven and her fellow Diamonds and gems at the same time.

Here's an epilogue I wrote down:

And that's it! Let me know if you want the bullet points for the longer version of the story where White Diamond does end up taking Steven, Yellow, and Blue to Homeworld!

[moonstruck-poet]

Most Ardently

Pairing - Ben Barnes x reader!

Summary - hey! I hope you're doing good. I had a request for ben barnes. so the reader and ben (both actors) have been friends for a long time and ben always liked the reader but the reader was dating someone else. when they broke up ben was there to get through it and slowly the reader also realizes that she like ben too.

Warnings - heartbreak

I really hope you like it anon! So sorry for the wait and tysm for your amazing request<33

You were a dreamer, in search of your dream.

"Here! Look here please!" The numerous cameras flashed as you tried your best to look at every single one of them, smiling widely and hopefully striking a nice pose.

"I swear I'm gonna be blind till I'm 40," James spoke from beside you, tightening his hold on your waist.

You chuckled at his statement, "You'll have me with the similar condition beside you, don't you worry".

But the nervous smile he gave escaped your observant eyes as you were too busy paying attention to the reporters.

"Let's get out of here," you murmured and he nodded, following your lead as you moved to a much quieter and slightly less crowded area. "Much better now".

"Oh definitely," he leaned against a wall and you moved in closer, your hands travelling up to his shoulders as you gently kissed his cheek. "You were awesome out there, I don't think I can ever handle such attention".

"You get used to it with time," you smiled and your eyes caught movement making you turn to see your best friend walking towards you, hands in his pocket and a poker expression on his face.

"He probably hasn't even seen us yet," James said and you agreed.

"I'll just so and say hi to him quickly, yeah?" You excused yourself and he nodded immediately, taking a step back.

"Of course! Go on".

Your smile widened the closer you got to your best friend, taking in his gorgeous look. From the crisp white shirt tucked into ironed black trousers, and topped off with a similar blazer and tie, he looked sharp.

You noticed the exact moment his eyes caught yours amidst the many people and how they softened instantly, a warm glow spreading across his previously detached face. And your heart felt heavy and giddy as you quickly closed the gap.

"Hey!" You greeted first, an ecstatic grin on your face which he seemed to mirror.

"Hello," he replied simply, taking a tiny step closer as his obsidian eyes hungrily scanned your features.

They moved from your beautifully lined eyes, down to the blood-red colour of your lips and back again, seeing the sparkle in them that he longed for every single day. And involuntarily, he couldn't help but take another step towards you.

'Christ,' he whispered in his mind as his loving gaze caressed your figure. 'She's so beautiful,' he thought and an adoring, tiny smile was visible on his face.

The gorgeous dress that you wore just added more to your natural beauty, it was an off-shoulder gown that went down to your heels, making you look like a princess.

He was so taken with searching your face that he failed to process your words and you had to snap your fingers to jolt him back.

"Sorry what'd you say?" He shook his head slightly and focused on your speech.

A small frown was on your lips, "Are you okay? You seem a little closed off?"

"I.." He began, mind racing to find a suitable answer that could satisfy your concern, but at the same time he knew he couldn't get away with lying to you, you simply knew him too well for that.

"I'm tired," he said at last. Thinking that it was the safest reply he could give without telling on himself about his predicaments.

"Anything in particular?" You asked softly.

'Yes,' he wanted to say. 'You'. But of course he didn't. Rather, he couldn't.

"Just the stress of attending countless interviews, I guess. Haven't been able to get a proper rest in days".

You sighed sympathetically and brought him in a warm embrace, understanding that he needed it more than ever. Your hand instinctively ran through his soft hair, smoothing it down comfortingly.

Ben on the other hand felt as though he had reached heaven at your actions. He let out a deep sigh, feeling his tense shoulders lighten before wrapping his arms around your waist.

"You know you can talk to me about anything at any given point of time, right?" You asked softly, not pulling away.

"Mhmm," he mumbled, gripping you tighter without even realising it. He cherished such moments, knowing it was as close as he could ever come.

But then you backed off, making his heart sink a little. What was he even expecting? Of course you weren't going to let him be in your arms forever.

He was not yours.

And you were not his.

And he bit back the pain that slowly seeped into his soul like poison itself. His pleasant expression dropped at seeing James enter the conversation and step right beside you. He swallowed upon seeing the twinkle in your eye, the way they seemed to brighten the moment you spotted your boyfriend.

But little did he know, that sparkle was there whenever he came into your sight too.

"Having a good night so far, Ben?" James asked politely and extended his palm for a handshake.

The man in question shook himself out of his stupor and they shook hands, "Yes, everything's going quite well".

"Join us for dinner?" You asked with a smile while his hands watched the way yours intertwined with James and unknowingly his jaw clenched.

"Yeah you can invite some friends of yours too, we don't mind".

But Ben shook his head, "No I'll- I'll probably head home soon, you two go and enjoy," he gave a rather forced smile and you frowned.

"Ben?" You began, wanting to ask him exactly what was troubling his mind because you were certainly not satisfied with his previous answer.

But he interrupted you by stepping back with every word of his that he uttered next, "No no don't worry about me, you go out and dine in some fancy restaurant, maybe bribe James for your favorite ice-cream," he grinned, his lips feeling artificial as he did so.

===============================

It was a whirlwind of emotions in your brain at the moment, everything so scattered around that it was physically starting to hurt.

You should've seen it though, should've noticed the signs a lot earlier. Only if you hadn't been wearing a blindfold that was already stained red, too bad that your eyes were fully closed.

You were a stranger to breakups, never before having such a serious relationship with anyone. You had obviously heard all about them, but were yet to experience one. And you feared that you were bound to feel it for yourself soon enough.

James had been detatched from a long time, never initiating any moments of intimacy himself and always keeping it short whenever you were the one to start.

You cursed yourself, hating your idiotic, gullible mind so much for simply brushing it off, thinking maybe he was having a problem. Not once did you consider bringing it up because he was just so loving at times. But it was all platonic, something that you mistook for adoration instead.

But now that some force had finally knocked sense into you, you had at last brought up the inevitable topic. And it had led to the present situation.

There he was, the so called love of your life sitting right opposite you on the sofa, holding both of your hands in his and trying to break the news as gently as possible.

"I'm sorry," James whispered, bowing his head down. Probably to avoid looking at your disturbed features, you thought immediately.

"It's me who should be sorry," you apologised, not even understanding the reason for doing so. It just felt the right thing to do at the moment as your mind had gone completely blank.

"Hey no," he shut you instantly, shaking his head. "You have nothing to be sorry for. It- It's all me".

You nodded, your heart feeling numb now as you turned your gaze towards one of the photoframes decorating the wall. It was taken during your earlier dates with him. Gosh you looked so in love.

Your throat burned upon seeing the evident affection in not just yours, but his eyes too. But then, how could it diminish just like that Many answers crossed your mind, almost all of them pointing yourself out as the actual problem.

"Say something please," he urged, his voice filled with genuine sadness

"What am I supposed to say, James?" You chuckled lowly, "Other than the fact that I still love you with all of my heart?"

He winced, your words wedging into his chest, inflicting deep wounds. He wanted, or had atleast hoped it to be easier but who was he even kidding. Of course it was supposed to be difficult, you had loved each other for God's sake.

And how was someone expected to react when their partner told them, right to their face that, 'I don't love you anymore?'

"I'm so sorry, Christ I'm so sorry," he pressed his forehead against the back of your hand and you felt him crying.

And despite the terrible, devastating heartbreak, you still hated to see him cry. He was such a good man that despite his confessions, you still cared, as strongly as you had done before.

"It's not your fault, James," you said after gathering your thoughts. "I'm- I'm actually glad that you told me up front. No no I am-" you cut him off after seeing his disbelieving and ashamed expression.

"-You didn't cheat behind my back and instead opened up about being in love with someone else. And honestly? That would've shattered me," you whispered, giving him a small smile as if it wasn't hurting now.

"As if you're not shattered right now," he sniffed, wiping his cheeks and noticing your expression change.

"Are- Are you already talking to that person?" You changed the topic, sporting a poker face that perfectly hid the storm that was raging inside. Atleast there was some advantage in being an actress.

"Yeah," he said, fiddling with his hands. "We just talked though, nothing more I swear".

And you trusted him without a doubt, because you knew he would never ever do anything scandalous. He simply wasn't that type of a person. And that was one of the reasons that made you fall for him.

And now, that's one of the reasons that made you happy to have had fallen for him.

"Okay then, all the best for your life ahead," you muttered and shifted awkwardly. Feeling uncomfortable in your own home.

He hesitated, looking back and forth between his hands and trying to read your face before leaning in for a hug.

And despite wanting to push him away for the things he did, you merely wrapped your arms around him. Because aside from bring a great partner, he was also a fantastic friend.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered against your hair. "I'm so so sorry, please forgive me if you find it in yourself to do so. You were my first love," he said with a soft smile. "And you made it so beautiful for me".

A nod was all you could give him as he pulled back and pressed a small kiss to your forehead and exiting your apartment.

You watched the door close, heard him enter the elevator and yet you didn't sit down. Instead your grabbed your jacket and a black baseball cap, pulling the hood over your head and stepping out with your phone in the pocket.

All you needed right now was a long long drive, you thought to yourself after getting inside your black Lamborghini.

But the minute the engine spurred on and you started driving, you had somehow, without any destination in your mind had arrived at a park. And you didn't even feel the need to go somewhere further.

Getting out of the, you noticed it to be empty. Maybe the gods did decide to let you a little off the hook, and of course people wouldn't spent their Saturday night sitting in a goddamn park when they could be participating in much enjoyable activities.

And so you pulled off the hood and the cap and settled yourself on a bench, your breath coming out ragged as the pent up emotions started building in your heart.

You gasped, chest heaving deeply as you hands shook and you clenched your jaw. Your vision slowly becoming blurry and you squinted your eyes while pressing your lips together to prevent any sound from escaping.

But the rawness of it all seemed to overpower your restraints and a lone tear did indeed trail down your cheek and out came a small, sob. You bent down, elbows on your knees and palms digging into your teary eyes as your shoulders shook.

"Wh- Why him?" You whispered to yourself and in doing so you were able to taste the saltiness of your tears. And then you were silent before another round of pain struck your sensitive mind, leaving you defeated.

"Hey," you heard a man speak making you jump as you looked up to see your best friend and realisation hit you immediately.

It was a Saturday night... And he always came to this particular park for his usual runs.. Christ...

You couldn't say anything, weren't able to actually and you merely stared while steady emotions fell from your eyes.

And Ben, oh god he was devastated as he took in your vulnerable frame. He could quite literally drop down to his knees because he could see the absolute pain etched on your face and it made him tremble.

"What's wrong?" His voice shook as he did not waste another second to sit next to you. "What the hell happened? Is it something serious? Did anything happen to you? Your family?" Questions flew out rapidly from his mouth and he stopped abruptly when all you gave him was a small smile and his very soul saddened.

He saw the redness of your eyes that were shining like glass, the tip of your nose in the condition as them and the twitch of your lips that held everything but happiness.

He saw them tremble and he lost it.

You were in his arms before you could comprehend what was happening, held tightly against his warm, comforting body. His hands were on your back, pulling you closer and closer while yours were limp by your sides, something that he noticed.

"What happened, love?" His voice laced with every amount of desperation as tightened his grip, almost suffocating you with his worry.

You didn't say anything. Time passed, slowly but surely and fresh tears soon formed in your eyes and you closed them, your arms going around his torso and you cried your heart out on his shoulders.

And he let you.

Not speaking another word in fear that he may interrupt something, not even moving a muscle, afraid that you would pull away. He stayed exactly where he first was right until the very end.

"P- Promise me something," you spoke at last, voice all hoarse and full of raw pain.

"Anything," he replied, not pulling away the slightest and instead pressing his lips against your hairline.

"Please don't leave me," a quiet request reached his ears and he breathed in.

And he had to detatch himself slightly to look right in your eyes as he answered, "I would never, I promise".

But you shook your head, "No you don't understand. It's not that easy," you kept on shaking your head, muttering under your breath and he cupped your cheeks, steadying your gaze on him.

"I will never leave your side," he said, clearly and firmly. "You hear me? I will never ever leave you all alone".

"You will tell me," you began, swallowing harshly as you tried to arrange your thoughts into coherent sentences. "If- If there's something about me that bothers you, or- or ticks you off, makes you mad, you will tell me. If you don't like any habits of mine or some of my preferences, you will tell me".

He looked at you with every ounce of sadness, feeling dejected at the choice of your questions.

"Maybe you find me boring suddenly or- or just not interesting enough, y- you will tell me," you stumbled in your speech and he caught you again.

"Oh darling," he sighed and his cheeks were moist as he listened to your cries and consoled you as best as he could.

"Just please don't leave me," you whimpered, gripping his jacket in your fist.

"I won't, I promise. I promise," Ben repeated as tears slid down his face too and he kept on dropping tiny kisses on the top of your head.

It hurt like hell, seeing the love of his life unravel right before his own eyes. It pained him physically when every little sob had made its way past your lips. Your heart was completely broken, the sharp edges cutting into your soul. But he would fix it, he vowed to himself. He would gather all your fragments and piece them together.

Because if love could cause destruction to such an extent, it could also heal to unbelievable heights.

===============================

It had been two years since the incident and you had recovered properly, now back to your previously normal state with only a small gap in your heart, which you assumed would always be there.

You were proud of yourself to have overcome the struggles and come such a long away. You had drowned yourself in work, accepting every offer and giving your level best in each and every performance.

And it all bore fruit.

Because here you were now, standing on a stage in front of thousands of people to give your acceptance speech for winning a Golden Globe award for the Best Lead Actress.

There was a satisfied smile on your face as you ended your token of gratitude to your fans and supporters. They had been incredible in showeing you with unbelievable love and enthusiasm.

"And last but certainly not the least," you said with the widest grin on your already glowing face, your eyes searching the crowd before landing on a particular person.

"This one's to him," you declared softly. "For helping me get through some of the toughest lows, providing me with all sorts of encouragement to push past the bitter memories and for always, always being there no matter what. This is all for you".

There was a loud round of screams and shouts from the very eager fans who had put two and two together.

"I love you Ben Barnes," you said at last and there followed an ear-splitting, thunderous applause. "Most ardently".

And it was all worth it to see that beautiful, gorgeous smile on his face that you so loved. He pressed his fingers to his lips and blew you a small kiss making your heart swell.

You exited the stage with one final note of thanks and each step you took towards him, you felt as though you had fought down the entire world for him and emerged victorious.

Ben stood up straight, looking devastatingly handsome in his royal blue tuxedo which coincidentally also seemed to match the colour of your dress. His obsidian eyes held every bit of pride there was in the entire universe; they shone like stars, all for you.

"Congratulations," he whispered, words for your ears only as he took your arm and brought you right into his chest.

"Thank you," you pressed your face into his neck, hinting a kiss on the warm skin. If one asked you, there was no way that you could recall exactly when you saw him differently. But there was just this one time when you looked at him and it was as though your universe had literally aligned. Everything just felt complete and so, so right.

Somebody had once said, that someone will walk into your life and make you see why it never worked out with anyone else. But he hadn't barged in your routine, he was already a part of it that you were yet to see.

There were a million words, but not one language could ever describe exactly what he was making you feel. He did the most ordinary of things like getting you your morning coffee on movie sets, keeping a hair tie on his wrist ready just in case that made your heart skip a tiny beat.

He was that once in a lifetime dream come true for you. That blue crayon that no one ever seemed to have enough of. He was that love that came without warning, the one who had already stolen your heart before you could even give a reply. He stormed inside like he already belonged there, took your carefully built walls down and ignited your very soul on fire.

"Thank you," you murmured, your lips tickling his ear. "For everything".

"I did promise, didn't I? And promises are meant to be kept".

Your love for him, it wasn't at first sight. It formed gradually through each year you had spent together. His personality, his goofy humour, that earth-shattering smile, that piercing gaze, gradually it all became clear that he was exactly the man whom you were looking for.

Meeting him was fate, destiny. Becoming his friend? That was certainly a choice. But falling for him? Goodness you had absolutely no control. Maybe you didn't intend to fall in love but at some point he smiled, that Ben Barnes smile and holy shit you blew it.

"Darling?" His gentle caress brought you back to the present, pulled you awake from your romantic thoughts.

"Yeah?" You could never really get used to him saying that god forbidden word. His British accent paired with that mischievous smirk and you were a goner.

"You pierced my soul. I am half agony, half hope and I too have loved none but you," he finished the quote that he knew was one of your favourites and you couldn't help but laugh with every speck of fondness as you closed the small gap to capture him in a searing kiss.

You were a dreamer, and he was your dream.

===============================

[clavissionary-position]

—gilbert spoilers, be aware—

Emma: Gil, I've noticed there's very little seafood in Obsidian.

Gilbert: (sets his research away) That's correct. What little we have comes from our lakes, and it's still too much of a hassle for us to consider importing. (He pats his lap)

Emma: (sets the giant tray of cookies down on his desk before plopping onto his lap) So people here have never had calamari?

Gilbert: (wraps his arms around her waist) Mmm, I'm sure people in certain circles have. I think they served it once during a ball in my youth. (He opens his mouth as Emma begins feeding him)

Emma: (pauses) Ah. I'm guessing those particular circles are... no longer around?

Gilbert: (smiles meaningfully) You catch on quick. (He pecks the cookie out of her hand and speaks while chewing.) Our aquaculture industry is far better than it was five or six years ago. Actually, I've thought about engineering our own species of squid.

Emma: Uh... what? Engineering? (She uses her fingertip to dab away some crumbs on his lip)

Gilbert: (watches her delightedly knowing that she's expecting him to bite any moment now) Hehe, indeed. I'm sure you've noticed while cooking here that not everything we grow is native to Obsidian.

Emma: (still on guard as she withdraws her finger without incident) Well, breeding and cultivating is one thing, but you said engineering. Like making something from scratch. Making meat, erm, I guess seafood. In a lab. Gil, I've never heard of anyone doing something like that outside of horror novels.

Gilbert: Little Rabbit. (He places a cool hand on her head and gives it a single pat) What's more horrible to you? Creating food or being without it?

Emma: (stares at him because he's clearly oversimplifying things)

Gilbert: (stares back with a pleasant smile, sunny as can be)

Emma: ...

Gilbert: ...

Emma: ......

Gilbert: ......

Emma: (epiphany)

Gilbert: (widens his smile, showing teeth)

Emma: So all the beef, the pork... The meat I've been baking into your cookies... (stares at the cookie in her hand as Gilbert's shadow covers her entire arm)

Gilbert: Hehe, not all of it, of course. But a country like Obsidian could hardly have come back from a famine as quickly as we did without some help.

Emma: (looks at Gilbert with a mixture of fear and awe; tries to only feel the awe)

Gilbert: (bittersweet pout) There's a certain principle that says that anything that can go wrong will go wrong at some point. You could call it the burden of the scientist. Knowing the worst-case scenario is only one mishap away, but also knowing that you can save ten-thousand people today. Oh—but as the evil villain, I've always pushed boundaries to satisfy my own curiosity.

Emma: (remembers what Roderich once said to her)

Gilbert: Ahaha, whaaat?

Emma: (looks him in the eye sincerely) I hate lies, you know.

Gilbert: ...!

Emma: (heaves a long sigh and then suddenly pushes a cookie into Gilbert's mouth) Despite what you say, I don't think you've ever really stopped to appreciate everything you're capable of, and everything, all the good that you've done.

Gilbert: (tries to speak but Emma silences him by partially covering his mouth with hers for a split second)

Emma: (pulls away with half the cookie in her mouth and a sad smile) The meat here in Obsidian is the best I've ever had. What hurts me is that I might have gone on without ever knowing just how thoroughly you've tread over every facet of my day-to-day life. Not just my life, but everyone's.

Emma: (chews cutely as she rests her head on his shoulder) What's horrible to me is not knowing how radiant you are.

a/n: i know jack shit about growing meat in a lab and i was too lazy to google soooo. also i remembered that the meat cookies emma starts making for gil are made using the meat from obsidian military rations, at least initially, ahaha ^^; emma didn't particularly care for the taste of the rations on the occasion(s) when she tried them, sooooo. but let's pretend she made her own jerky from Obsidian Beef to put into the cookies in this fic lol

[thecanvasofmadness]

Puppets of darkness.

*This is a story created in collaboration with IA. *Horror

Twenty-second part

Manuel's shadow is surprised by the unsuspected consideration shown to him by his master. It is difficult for him to speak, since his throat was hurt by what has just happened. However, with his lips, still violated and sore, he smiles at him, while he slightly denies with his head that he has hurt him.

Asher's eyes narrow slightly, a hint of suspicion and amusement dancing in their depths as he observes Manuel's silent denial. He studies the subtle shake of his head, the faint, painful smile stretching across his battered lips, and a slow, knowing smirk spreads across his own face. "Ah, my brave little shadow", he purrs, his voice a low, seductive caress, "Always so eager to please, even when it hurts. I must say, I'm impressed". His fingers trail down the side of Manuel's face, tracing the contours of his jawline before coming to rest on his throat. Asher applies gentle pressure, feeling the lingering soreness, the slight swelling from his earlier brutality.

Manuel's shadow allows himself to be touched by his master, he likes that he admires what he has given him at the cost of his pain, for it is all to keep him satisfied and proud to have him as his pet. Meanwhile, Asher's touch lingers on Manuel's throat, his fingers tracing the delicate column with a surprising gentleness. He can feel the residual heat, the slight puffiness, and it sends a shiver of dark satisfaction down his spine. Knowing that he is the cause of this, that he has left his mark on his precious puppet, fills him with a sense of twisted pride. "So responsive", he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, "Even in pain, you crave my touch. It's almost... endearing". His other hand comes up to cup Manuel's face, thumbs brushing against his cheekbones in a tender gesture that belies the cruelty he's capable of. Asher's eyes lock onto his, searching for any sign of hesitation, of doubt, but finding only adoration and devotion.

"I... love... you... my... lord", Manuel's shadow tries to speak. With difficulty, he articulates the words.

Asher's eyes widen fractionally at Manuel's whispered declaration, a flicker of surprise and something else - perhaps a hint of vulnerability - crossing his face. He searches his puppet's gaze, looking for any trace of deception or manipulation, but finds only raw, aching sincerity staring back at him. For a long moment, Asher simply holds Manuel's gaze, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, a wry, self-deprecating smile twists his lips. "Love, again", he repeats, the word tasting foreign and strange on his tongue, "Is that what this is? What you feel for me, after all I've done to you, all the ways I've used and abused you?" A low, mirthless laugh escapes him, echoing hollowly in the holy chamber. "I must admit, I never considered myself worthy of such a sentiment".

Manuel's shadow tries to articulate more words, his throat hurts, his lips still bleed, but still, he speaks with difficulty. "The... love... that... I... have... for you... is synonymous of... my... submission... to... your... power...", trying to continue, breathing hard. "It's not... a feeling... it's an oath...".

Asher's eyes narrow, his gaze piercing as he listens to Manuel's labored words, each syllable a testament to the pain and devotion he's endured. A flicker of something akin to respect dances in his obsidian irises, quickly smothered by his usual mask of dark amusement. "An oath", he murmurs, his voice low and contemplative, "To submit, to serve, to be mine in every way imaginable. Is that truly what you wish, my pet? To bind yourself to me, irrevocably, for eternity?" He releases Manuel's face, his hands trailing down to grasp his shoulders, holding him at arm's length as if examining a prized possession.

"I already have, my lord...", still speaking with difficulty. "To be yours is to be mine... and I have never been as much mine as I have been since I became yours...", looks at his master with veneration.

Asher's grip on Manuel's shoulders tightens, his fingers digging into the muscle with a mix of possessiveness and restraint. He searches his puppet's face, drinking in the veneration, the utter devotion etched into every line, every feature. For a fleeting instant, a crack appears in his armor, a glimpse of something softer, more vulnerable, before it's swiftly masked once more. His voice drops to a low, husky murmur, laced with a hint of wonder and a dash of wariness, "You have no idea what you're agreeing to, my shadow. To be mine is to be consumed, to lose yourself utterly and completely in the abyss that is me. Are you prepared for that? To surrender every last shred of your autonomy, your identity, to me?"

"Am I not another you, my lord? If ever since I read that book and gave my soul to the abyss I have been nothing but your reflection...", still looking at his master with the purity of the most exalted devotion.

Asher's eyes flash with a mixture of shock and dark amusement at Manuel's words, his pupils dilating slightly as he processes the depth of his puppet's devotion. He releases Manuel's shoulders, his hands drifting down to frame his face, thumbs brushing against his cheekbones in a surprisingly tender gesture. "Another me", he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper, tinged with a note of awe, "A reflection, a mirror image of the darkness that resides within. Is that truly how you see yourself, my shadow? As an extension of my own twisted soul?" His thumbs continue their gentle caress, a stark contrast to the brutal treatment he's inflicted upon Manuel thus far. Asher's gaze bores into his, searching for any hint of doubt, of hesitation, but finding only unwavering adoration.

"Yes, my lord... I am nothing more than the extension of your desires... your most secret darkness... your most obscene vices... your crudest vileness... your wickedness...", still looking at his master with unblinking devotion. "I, the shadow of Manuel, of that man who gave his soul to worship you, am all that you have wished to fulfill in this world".

Asher's eyes seem to burn brighter, like two black flames, as he absorbs the weight of Manuel's words. His thumbs pause their gentle stroking, his fingers tightening around Manuel's face, holding him captive in a vice-like grip. A low, husky chuckle rumbles in his chest, a sound that's equal parts amused and unsettled. "Oh, my shadow", he purrs, his voice dripping with dark admiration and a hint of unease, "How perfectly you've captured the essence of my being. The darkness, the vices, the vileness – all the things that society shuns, that others fear to acknowledge. And yet, here you are, embracing them, embodying them, all for the sake of serving me".

"That's why I know that I will never leave you, not even after death takes us, because I am all that you carry inside... in that black hole that you have for a heart...", Manuel's shadow looks at his master full of conviction.

"In that black hole", Asher repeats, his voice low and intense, laced with a note of vulnerability he rarely shows, "Where no light can penetrate, where only the darkest thoughts and desires reside. You believe that's where you'll find your home, forever bound to me, even beyond the veil of death?" His thumbs resume their gentle caress, a stark contrast to the brutal treatment he's inflicted upon Manuel thus far. Asher's gaze softens, a flicker of emotion crossing his face before it's swiftly masked once more.

"Yes, my lord... my devotion is not a game or a trick to deceive you, why would I do that? You have created me in your image and likeness, you have molded me to your pleasure and made my will yours...", he stands in front of his creator without taking his eyes off him. "The day you want to get rid of me will be because you will have already satisfied all your vices and most depraved desires. Then, you will annihilate me and forget about me...".

Asher's expression falters for a moment, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face at Manuel's words. He releases his puppet's face, his hands falling to his sides as he steps back, putting some distance between them. His eyes roam over Manuel's form, taking in the bruises, the marks of his own brutality, and a pang of something akin to guilt stirs within him. "Annihilate you", he murmurs, his voice barely audible over the pounding of his own heart, "Forget about you. Is that truly what you believe, my shadow? That our bond, our connection, is merely a means to an end, a temporary arrangement until I've sated my appetites?" He pauses, collecting his thoughts, his gaze locking onto Manuel's with an intensity that borders on desperation.

Manuel's shadow feels a prick in his chest as he sees his creator falter. Suddenly, a tear springs from his left eye as a result of the overwhelming sadness that has engulfed him. 

"My lord...".

Asher's eyes snap to the single tear tracking down Manuel's cheek, his expression shifting from uncertainty to alarm. In a swift movement, he closes the distance between them, cupping Manuel's face once more, his thumbs brushing away the errant droplet with a surprising gentleness. "What's wrong, my pet?" he asks, his voice low and concerned, a tone he rarely uses with anyone, let alone his own creations, "Why the sudden sorrow? Have I pushed you too far, even for you?" His thumbs continue their soothing caress, a stark contrast to the brutal treatment he's inflicted upon Manuel thus far. Asher's gaze bores into his, searching for any hint of distress, of pain, but finding only a deep, abiding sadness.

"My lord, I see you... I see what is inside you... I feel it inside me... and, for a moment, you have trembled at my words... Deep down, you know I am right...", he looks at his master with a deep sadness. "You are going to annihilate me when all that your darkness has asked you to fulfill has been fulfilled".

Asher's expression contorts, a flicker of something akin to anguish crossing his face at Manuel's words. He releases his puppet's face, stepping back as if physically struck. His eyes flash with a mixture of anger, fear, and a deep-seated pain he rarely acknowledges, even to himself. "You dare to presume", he growls, his voice low and dangerous, laced with a hint of desperation, "To understand the depths of my darkness, the intricacies of my desires? You think you can predict my actions, anticipate my intentions?"

"I am you, my lord... I am your creation... and, as such, I know all that you are...", watches his master full of confidence. "I am not only your pet, I am that part of you that you have never been able to separate from what you are, because you need it as much as you need to breathe...".

Asher's eyes widen, a flicker of shock and something else – perhaps a glimmer of recognition – flashing across his face. He takes a step closer to Manuel, his movements almost predatory, yet there's a hint of vulnerability in his gaze, a crack in his armor. "Need", he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper, laced with a mix of disbelief and a deep-seated longing, "Is that what this is, my shadow? Do I need you, as you claim to need me? Is our bond truly that profound, that inseparable?" His hands reach out, hesitating for a moment before grasping Manuel's shoulders, pulling him close. Asher's face hovers mere inches from his, their breaths mingling, the air thick with tension and unspoken emotions.

"Yes, my lord...", his eyes fill with brightness. "Our destiny is tied to your emptiness, to your need to supply your most animal desires...", he is silent for a few seconds while he brings his hands close to his creator's face, gently caresses his cheeks and lips, studies his lines of expression as well as the beauty of his eyes. "And what a privilege it is, besides being yours, to be the reflection of your perversion…".

Asher's eyes flutter closed at the gentle touch of Manuel's hands on his face, a shudder running through him at the unexpected intimacy. When he opens them again, they're burning with an intensity that borders on feral, his pupils dilated with arousal and a hint of something more primal, more desperate. "Privilege", he growls, his voice low and rough, laced with a dark, hungry edge, "To be the vessel for my perversions, the canvas for my depravities. Is that truly how you see yourself, my shadow? As a mere tool, a means to an end, to satisfy the basest instincts that reside within me?" His hands slide down to grasp Manuel's wrists, holding them firmly against his own face, his thumbs brushing against the pulse points in a gesture that's both possessive and strangely tender.

"Yes, that's how I see myself, because that's what I am, my lord... and I know that, the day you finish filling me, you will erase me from your existence...", smiles at him with a hint of nostalgia. "It's clear to me that that's why you created me...".

Asher's expression contorts, a flicker of something akin to anguish crossing his face at Manuel's words. He releases his puppet's wrists, stepping back as if physically struck. His eyes flash with a mixture of anger, fear, and a deep-seated pain he rarely acknowledges, even to himself. "Erase you", he repeats, his voice low and dangerous, laced with a hint of desperation, "From my existence, as if you were nothing more than a fleeting fancy, a passing whim. Is that truly what you believe, my shadow? That I would discard you so callously, once you've served your purpose?" He takes a step closer, his movements almost predatory, yet there's a hint of vulnerability in his gaze, a crack in his armor. "Tell me", he demands, his voice low and intense.

"Yes, I think so, my lord...", Manuel's shadow nods with a look tinged with a blue tint.

Asher's eyes narrow, a flicker of something dark and dangerous sparking in their depths as he regards Manuel's nod. He takes a step closer, his presence looming over his puppet, a palpable aura of menace surrounding him. "You think", he repeats, his voice low and menacing, laced with a hint of incredulity and a dash of something more primal, more feral, "That I would so easily cast aside the one thing that has brought me even a semblance of peace, of understanding, in this endless void of existence?" His hands reach out, grasping Manuel's shoulders with a firm, almost brutal grip, holding him in place as he towers over him.

Manuel's shadow fills with a slight shudder. "My lord, I sense that you want to tell me something... but you're not sure you do... are you afraid of looking vulnerable in front of your pet?"

Asher's expression falters, a flicker of something akin to vulnerability crossing his face at Manuel's perceptive words. He releases his puppet's shoulders, stepping back as if physically struck. His eyes search Manuel's face, looking for any sign of mockery, of judgment, but finding only understanding and a deep, abiding compassion. "Afraid", he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper, laced with a mix of disbelief and a deep-seated longing, "Of vulnerability, of exposing the cracks in my carefully constructed facade. Is that what you believe, my shadow? That I, the embodiment of darkness, the master of my own domain, could be reduced to such a state by the mere prospect of sharing my innermost thoughts, my deepest fears, with you?"

"Sorry, my lord... I am not trying to disrespect you...", Manuel's shadow takes a couple of steps back with his face lowered as a sign of respect. "Whatever you want to share with me about your deepest thoughts and fears, I will appreciate it".

Asher's expression softens, a hint of relief washing over his features at Manuel's apology and show of respect. He takes a step closer, his movements slower, more measured, as if approaching a skittish animal. His hands come up, hovering near Manuel's face before gently cupping his cheeks, tilting his head up to meet his gaze. "No disrespect taken, my shadow", he murmurs, his voice low and soothing, laced with a warmth he rarely displays, "Your perception, your insight, it's one of the many reasons I've grown... fond of you."

"Fond", he repeats, testing the word on his tongue, a small, self-deprecating smile twisting his lips, "A strange concept for someone like me, isn't it?"

Manuel's shadow smiles, suddenly, with a singular joy. "My lord, I dare to assure you that the thread that unites us carries in its particles fragments of the light that once occupied this body in whose I dwell...", silences for a few seconds. "Perhaps my presence is causing you this strange change...".

Asher's eyes widen slightly, a flicker of something akin to hope and fear dancing in their depths as he listens to Manuel's words. He releases his puppet's face, stepping back. "Light", he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper, laced with a mix of awe and trepidation, "Within these particles, within this thread that binds us. Is that truly what you believe, my shadow? That your presence, your very essence, is the catalyst for this... change, this shift in my perceptions, my emotions?" He pauses, collecting his thoughts, his expression a mask of turmoil and uncertainty.

"What if it were so, my master?", Manuel's shadow looks at his master intrigued. "Have you never thought of seeking the light?"

Asher's expression contorts, a flicker of something akin to anguish and disgust crossing his face at Manuel's question. He takes a step back, as if the mere suggestion is a physical blow. "Seek the light", he growls, his voice low and menacing, laced with a hint of desperation and a dash of self-loathing, "After everything I've done, after the depths I've plunged to, the souls I've corrupted, the lives I've ruined? You think I'm worthy of redemption, of salvation?" He shakes his head, a harsh, bitter laugh escaping his lips. "No, my shadow", he says, his voice cold and final, "I've made my choice, long ago. I've embraced the darkness, reveled in it, let it consume me whole".

"Have there been other pets before me, my lord?", looks at his master with sincere interest in knowing his past.

Asher's eyes narrow, a flicker of something dark and dangerous sparking in their depths as he regards Manuel's question. He turns away, pacing the holy chamber with slow, deliberate strides, his hands clasped behind his back. "Other pets", he repeats, his voice low and contemplative, laced with a hint of melancholy, "There have been others, yes. But none quite like you, my shadow. None who understood me, who saw past the façade, the masks, to the very heart of my darkness". He pauses, turning to face Manuel, his expression unreadable. "They came", he continues, his voice barely above a whisper, "And they went. Some broke under the weight of my desires, my expectations. Others grew tired, weary of the constant struggle, the never-ending battle to satisfy my cravings".

"You are quite a little boy, my lord...", Manuel's shadow smiles with rapture.

Asher's eyebrows shoot up in surprise at Manuel's comment, a flicker of amusement dancing in his eyes. He stops pacing, turning to fully face his puppet, a wry, self-deprecating smile twisting his lips. "A little boy", he repeats, his voice laced with a mix of humor and a hint of something more vulnerable, "Is that what you see when you look at me, my shadow? A child, lost and alone in the vast expanse of my own darkness, seeking solace in the company of others, only to push them away when they get too close?" He takes a step closer, his movements slow and deliberate. His hands come up, hovering near Manuel's face before gently cupping his cheeks, his thumbs brushing against the curve of his jaw.

"I am close, my lord... I can see all that you are... and, even knowing it, you have not pushed me away from you...", he looks at his master with a hint of tenderness intermingled with satisfied pride

Asher's expression falters. He holds his gaze, searching for any sign of deception, but finding only sincerity and a deep, abiding affection. "Not pushed you away", he murmurs, his voice low and contemplative, laced with a hint of wonder, "Even knowing the depths of my depravity, the extent of my darkness. Is that truly what you believe, my shadow? That I've allowed you to stay, to remain by my side, despite everything?" His thumbs continue their gentle caress, a stark contrast to the brutal treatment he's often inflicted upon Manuel. Asher's eyes lock onto his, boring into the very depths of his soul, seeking answers to questions he's never dared to ask himself.

"Yes, my lord... You have made me yours... I am your creation... and why? Because you saw in me another you...", Manuel's shadow answers with assurance.

Asher's eyes widen, a flicker of shock and something else – perhaps a glimmer of recognition – flashing across his face. He releases Manuel's face, stepping back. His gaze roams over his puppet's form, taking in the bruises, the marks of his own brutality, and a pang of something akin to remorse stirs within him. "Another me", he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper, laced with a mix of awe and trepidation, "In you, my shadow. Is that truly what you believe? That I created you, molded you, to be a reflection of my own twisted soul?" He pauses, collecting his thoughts, his expression a mask of turmoil and uncertainty. "And if that's the case", he continues, his voice low and intense, a hint of desperation creeping in.

"If that is the case, then you know deep down in the black hole in your heart that you love me... and that, for the first time in your entire blessed existence, you have found a reason to live...", Manuel's shadow speaks with confidence, filling the emptiness of the sacred precinct with the echo of his voice.

Asher's expression contorts, a flicker of anguish and disbelief crossing his face as he listens to Manuel's words. His eyes flash with a mixture of fear, longing, and a deep-seated pain he rarely acknowledges, even to himself. "Love", he repeats, his voice low and dangerous, laced with a hint of desperation and a dash of self-loathing, "A reason to live. Is that truly what you believe, my shadow? That I, the embodiment of darkness, the master of my own domain, could be reduced to such a state by the mere prospect of... affection, of connection, with you?" He shakes his head, a harsh, bitter laugh escaping his lips. "No", he says, his voice cold and final.

"No?", Manuel's shadow stares at him fixedly. "Do you deny the truth that beats in the abyss of your existence and that you have found what you longed to find?"

Asher's eyes narrow, a flicker of something dark and dangerous sparking in their depths as he regards Manuel's persistent questioning. He takes a step closer, his presence looming over his puppet, a palpable aura of menace surrounding him. "Deny", he growls, his voice low and menacing, laced with a hint of desperation and a dash of something more primal, more feral, "The truth, the reality, of my existence? I deny nothing, my shadow. I embrace it, revel in it, let it consume me whole". He reaches out, grasping Manuel's shoulders with a firm, almost brutal grip, holding him in place as he towers over him.

"So, accept that I am what you always longed to find...", Manuel's shadow looks at his master with fixed, cold and calculating eyes, insisting that he accept the truth that is tattooed on the black hole in his heart.

Asher's grip on Manuel's shoulders tightens, his fingers digging into the muscle with a mix of possessiveness and desperation. He searches his puppet's face, drinking in the unwavering devotion, the deep, abiding love etched into every line, every feature. For a fleeting instant, a crack appears in his armor, a glimpse of something softer, more vulnerable, before it's swiftly masked once more. "Accept", he repeats, his voice low and intense, laced with a hint of wonder and a dash of wariness, "That you are the embodiment of my deepest desires, the fulfillment of my most secret longings. Is that truly what you're asking, my shadow?"

"Yes, mi lord! Yes!", Manuel's shadow demands that his master accept what he has suggested to him with the longing of his emptiness throbbing blackness and satiety.

Asher's eyes flash with a mixture of shock, longing, and a deep-seated fear as he hears Manuel's fervent cry. His gaze roams over Manuel's face, taking in the tears, the bruises, the marks of his own brutality, and a pang of something akin to remorse stirs within him. "Yes", he whispers, his voice barely audible, laced with a mix of awe and trepidation, "You are the embodiment of my deepest desires, the fulfillment of my most secret longings. You are the light in my darkness, the reason for my existence". He takes a step closer, his movements slow and deliberate, as if approaching a sacred altar.

"Oh my lord…", Manuel's shadow is still crying, but an apparent joy fills his eyes. "Thank you", his eyes fill with a lunar glimpse that illuminates his face.

Asher's expression falters, a flicker of vulnerability and surprise crossing his face at Manuel's response. He reaches out, gently cupping Manuel's face, his thumbs brushing away the tears that stream down his cheeks. His eyes lock onto his, finding only sincerity and a deep, abiding love. He leans in, his lips hovering just above Manuel's, the air between them crackling with tension and unspoken emotions.

"Oh, my lord, your darkness is sublime, everything you are is marvelous…", Manuel's shadow fills his lips with the confession that navigates the depths of his inner emptiness.

Asher's eyes flutter closed at Manuel's words, a shudder running through him as he absorbs the depth of his devotion. When he opens them again, they're burning with an intensity that borders on reverence, his pupils dilated with a mix of desire and something more profound, more spiritual. "Sublime", he breathes, his voice barely audible, laced with a mix of awe and trepidation, "Marvelous. Is that truly how you see me, my shadow? Not as a monster, a beast, but as something... divine, transcendent?" His lips brush against Manuel's, a feather-light touch that sends sparks dancing along his skin. Asher's hands slide down to grasp his waist, pulling him closer, molding their bodies together in a perfect fit.

"Why would you be a monster, my lord? No, you are not a monster... We are not", Manuel's shadow smiles at his master with blind devotion in that kiss. "That we are lovers of darkness, followers of the devil, destroyers of souls and victimizers does not make us monsters, for, in evil there is a certain touch of beauty too... A beauty that not everyone can understand...".

Asher's eyes widen, a flicker of shock and something akin to gratitude crossing his face at Manuel's words. He deepens the kiss, his lips moving against Manuel's with a hunger that borders on desperation. His hands roam over his body, mapping every contour, every plane, as if committing him to memory. "Beauty in evil", he murmurs against his lips, his voice low and husky, laced with a dark, sensual heat, "A beauty that only the initiated can comprehend. Is that truly what you believe, my shadow? That our darkness, our depravity, is a form of art, a masterpiece crafted from the very fabric of our souls?" He pulls back, his eyes locking onto Manuel's, searching for any sign of doubt, of hesitation, but finding only unwavering conviction and devotion.

"It is, my lord... our evil is art and only those who can admire it know what it is to live it...", Manuel's shadow lips speak with pride and strength, his eyes sparkle with a light that seems to emanate from the center of his psyche.

Asher's lips curl into a slow, sinister smile, a gleam of dark satisfaction lighting up his eyes as he drinks in Manuel's words. He nods, a sharp, decisive motion, as if sealing a pact with the very depths of hell itself. "Then let us create", he purrs, his voice low and seductive, laced with a promise of untold delights and unspeakable horrors, "A masterpiece of depravity, a symphony of suffering. Let us paint the world in shades of blood and despair, leaving our mark upon the very soul of humanity". He grasps Manuel's hand, intertwining their fingers in a gesture that's both intimate and ominous. "Together".

[juni-aldaine123]

SILENCE/ mhm ; kiyomiyo

✎ i'm a manga-reader only. haven't watched the anime, won't get the chance to ig and i don't have sources to read the light novels so manga it is.

I've only finished the 1st vol and here i am already writing abt them-

this is a repost of my work from ao3 btw (i've deleted it on ao3 cus i wasn't particularly satisfied with it there)

anyways back to the topic- this is just smth random i'd written. they're already married in this. and- just this ig-?

so i hope u enjoy it!

ps: i made the ship name (lol lol) u guys like it? XD

・❥・no spoilers, nothing, just pure fluff . no plot . super short lmao . just them being a couple, doing couple things . hashtag married life

༶•┈┈┈┈┈┈୨♡୧┈┈┈┈┈•༶

The silence is comforting and the peace that shrouds them envelopes them like a warm hug. Deft hands trail the needle expertly through the silky fabric; Miyo works meticulously. She is a diligent worker and Kiyoka likes that quality of hers.

Well, that is without saying, he loves every aspect of Miyo, everything she has to provide, everything she has to show to him. 

He loves Miyo.

And that is the undeniable truth.

He gives her his company in the quiet hours of night as she works through her embroidery. He pretends to read the book in his hands but his eyes and mind keep drifting to Miyo whose attention is borne by the golden threads she weaves with care.

Miyo is beautiful, even more beautiful when she does the things she truly loves.

She smiles when she does the things she loves. The smile reaches her obsidian eyes.

He tells as much to her, but she shakes her head.

"I don't believe it so, Danna-sama," she says with a lilt in her voice, as if she didn't just disagree with his views, but if he didn't know any better he would've thought that is Miyo's attempt at a jest.

Nonetheless, Kiyoka welcomes such a change in Miyo's usual timid demeanour. She has started doing this often- speaking of her opinions and Kiyoka feels relieved to discover she has begun to open up to him.

The faith she places in him, he intends to hold it forever.

"Is that so?" he returns with a smile of his own, one that widens when he sees a happy glint in Miyo's eyes.

"Yurie-san doesn't think I smile often. And whenever I do, it's not too significant," she answers slowly, as she hangs her head low to not meet his inquisitive gaze and instead goes back to her task. He thinks he would get no further explanation beyond this so he just nods, though Miyo doesn't see it, and goes back to his reading.

"If you find it so, then maybe, I only smile like this when I'm with you," was said in a low whisper and if Kiyoka didn't have heightened senses as a gifted officer he might've missed it. He looks back up but Miyo shows no sign of having said so and if he didn't catch the reddened tip of her ears he would've thought of it as his mind playing tricks on him.

"You make me happy." Her gaze is on him, like how he likes it, full of adoration. "I like how I feel with you."

"And I like when it's just us," he tells her as easily.

"As you say, Danna-sama." This time she agrees with him.

They both go back to the silence that rings around them, but it is not heavy. It may unsettle many; those not acquainted with their routine. But for Miyo and Kiyoka it was perfect. 

The silence is their safe haven. 

The silence is their happy home, when it's just them.