#My Favorite People Call Me Custom Personalized Gift

[customizedstore]

My Favorite People Call Me Custom Personalized Gift, Gift For Christmas, Teacher Sweater

[mangoshorthand]

I just saw your little post, I'm sorry I didn't clarify. Yes, I am a cis woman and I have more of a swimmer's body (I've been a swimmer for years so it's partially natural and partially conditioned) with wider hips and broad shoulders (typical swimmer long legs too). I hope this helps and sorry for such an inconvenience 😅

- birthday anon 🎂🎉

Original request, (paraphrased):

It's my birthday today and I was wondering if I could get a happy birthday from Five. I guess my prompt would be that throughout my life a lot of people forget my birthday (even my family) and often don't show up so if Five just remembered and decided to be soft and sensual and caring, that would make me the happiest person ever.

No problem Birthday Anon. Sorry this took a couple of days. Happy belated birthday! Also I made you a barista sooo...enjoy that I guess.

The Birthday Girl | Five Hargreeves/ F Reader 2.8k words, Rated E

Being born at the start of the year was always a harsh reminder of the fact that you weren’t the main character of all existence, something which it took most people much longer to realize. It was worse when you were a kid, with Christmas and birthday presents amalgamated into one by relatives already stressed out from gift-buying, but it still kind of stung now. Yeah, people had lives and it was a tricky time of year, but you surely didn’t need to be the main character of all existence to have people simply show up for your birthday. 

It was a nice place, you thought, glumly as you popped the olive from your martini into your mouth and chewed it thoughtfully. Not too crowded, the music loud enough to dance to without prohibiting conversation. The drinks were cheap and good quality. It would have been the perfect place for a birthday get together. 

You sighed and rested your elbows on the bar. You should have got the picture by now. You were a full grown adult, you knew how it went, and yet you still foolishly invited all your friends and even some family out. 

You’d never imagined that all of them would come, but you thought that at least a few would turn up. Over the past week, as you’d expected, they’d nearly all messaged their excuses and apologies and dropped out. For some, it was too close to going back to work after their christmas break, some were still away, while others were still recovering from New Year and unable to face the idea of partying again so soon.

You didn’t really blame those guys, (at least they had the decency to inform you that they weren’t coming), but you couldn’t help feeling angry at the no-shows who hadn’t even bothered to inform you, leading to you sitting alone in this bar, all dressed up for nothing.

“Hey.”

You turned your head, surprised to hear any voice addressing you. 

“Five,” you said, smiling nervously in greeting.

This was not what you’d planned. He was your favorite customer, yes, he said you made the best coffee in the city, but could you call him your friend? Did two years of late-night coffee twice a week count as a friendship?

He usually came in on one of your late shifts, looking immaculately dressed but gray with exhaustion. At first, he hadn’t talked, just drinking his coffee in silence and leaving with a murmur of thanks and a generous tip, but over time he’d been more receptive to your gentle offers of conversation, and gradually he’d shown up primarily to talk, sitting at the counter as you worked, sipping endless cups of coffee and keeping you company. 

What he hadn’t told you himself, you’d put together from snippets of conversation. You knew about the Umbrella Academy and the apocalypse, but it didn’t really factor into your picture of him. To you, he was just Five: the amusing mix of pessimism, wit, and an old man’s nostalgia for times past incongruous with the body in its twenties.  

Over the time you’d known him, he’d grown into your life easily. He had you looking forward to your late shifts and spending the time between them making mental notes of things to tell him next time you saw him. Your conversations with him were easy and intimate (you’d told him a few things you wouldn’t tell your diary on your deathbed), but the relationship was still this weird, context-bound thing. He was the customer, you were the server.  

He’d surprised you into inviting him to this little get-together a couple of days before new year. It was your first late shift after Christmas, and when he’d arrived and taken up his usual perch at the counter, one of his first remarks was:

“It’s your birthday coming up in a day or two, right?”

“Uh,” you faltered, “Um - yeah.”

He looked at you doubtfully. 

“You don’t sound very sure.”

“No, it is. I’m just surprised, is all. People always forget.”

Five shrugged.

“You told me last year. You swapped shifts to go out for dinner.”

“And you remembered that?”

“Yeah.”

It touched you, the way he spoke so casually, as if he couldn’t possibly do anything but remember this about you. So you invited him to come tonight, hoping he’d say yes but not read too much into it. For months, maybe longer, you’d been wondering, and his attitude then was the thing that pushed you to find out once and for all.

You had to know for sure whether this was something: whether you and he would be the same in a different environment, or whether this thing would just crumble to nothing outside of the diner’s soft-lighting. It would be a good test, you thought, and having other people there would act as a buffer in case of any awkwardness. 

In this, you had been thwarted, because now he stood beside you, looking more smart-casual than you’d ever seen him, frowning in a gray blazer over a dark tee.

“Well…happy birthday,” he said, dumping a giftbag on the bar with a clunk that signaled a bottle inside, “it’s rum. You said you liked mojitos.”

“Thanks,” you said, nodding, as he sat on the barstool beside you. 

He took a quick glance around, intelligent green eyes taking stock of the bar. 

“Is it just us?” he asked, raising a quizzical eyebrow in a way that made you chuckle.

“Yup,” you smiled, ruefully, “most people canceled, but there were three who just haven’t remembered to show up. I told them to meet me an hour ago, but no word.”

He frowned again, so you offered a little explanation:

“People forget when your birthday’s just after the holidays.” and then, with a smile at him, added, “Except you, of course.”

“Hm,” he said, with an air of contemplation, perhaps reflecting on why you’d told him to meet you later than everyone else. Seeming to dismiss it, however, he turned back to you:

“So you’re stuck with me?”

You looked back over at him, and a smirk developed on his face, one corner of his mouth turning up to complement his cocked eyebrow. 

And in that moment, you made a decision, one that was two years in the making. Why play these games? Why experiment with him? Worst case scenario, he finds another diner. 

“It’s stupid to be here with only two of us. Do you want to come back to mine? Maybe we crack open that rum and help me drown my birthday sorrows? I only live on the next street.”

***

The rum was never opened, because on the street outside your apartment, he stopped you with a hand on your arm.

He’d been silent ever since he agreed to come with you, and when you turned to face him outside your door, he fixed you with such a serious look that you took in a shallow breath.

“Sorry if I make this awkward, but I gotta know. Is this just a drink?”

You looked back at him, studying the earnest slope of his brow and his tense mouth; how the two freckles on his cheek disappeared into a small cleft in his cheek. It was a face that surrendered smiles reluctantly, but you could nearly always tease several out before the end of any shift. 

You shook your head wordlessly.

His adam's apple bobbed in his throat. His eyes, so often scowling, scathing or sardonic, fixed you now with a look of pure, open adoration. His thick lashes did nothing to shade you from the intensity of that look, from the opalescent green of his pupils that pulled at you with such fascination. 

When he spoke, his voice was very low.

“I’ve wanted this for a long time.”

You felt your cheeks heat up, unable to keep your eyes on his face, choosing to study the neckline of his tee, beneath which a hint of sturdy collarbone was visible.

He reached out and gently ghosted his fingers down your cheek. 

“How could anyone forget your birthday?” he murmured. 

Then, he leaned forward and kissed you.

The chill January breeze momentarily played about your neck. A shiver ran through you, but not from cold: from his gentle lips against yours; from the feel of his soft hair between your fingers; from his body close to yours. 

Sweet, chaste and cherishing, it might have seemed platonic, that kiss, but for the way his tongue slipped briefly into the fray, though pulling back quickly: showing you that he had more should you wish to take it.

And you did. You wanted it to the point that you chased his lips when he tried to pull away. He smiled at this and let you catch him, letting your lips part his and your tongue enter his mouth. 

Finally, he succeeded in breaking the embrace, though leaving his hands softly on your hips.

“Take me upstairs?” he asked, huskily.

***

His mouth beside your ear, he held you on his lap like a beautiful fragile thing. He ran his fingers reverently up and down your thighs, like a servant privileged to touch precious silverware with kid gloves. 

He kissed you again, soft and syrupy, as if he was eating fruit perfectly sweetened on the vine, trailing his lips down your shoulder, humming with satisfaction.

 “God,” he whispered, “I could kiss you all day.”

The tender hunger in his tone sent a tingle straight to your core. 

It was a shame to have your back to him. When he’d thrown off his shirt as if it was nothing, your eyes drank him in: the softly defined muscles that were outlined by his movements and the trail of sparse, dark hair disappearing below his waistband. All this time, under those sharply cut suits, there was this.

But you couldn’t focus on the regret too much, not with his strong forearms wrapped around your naked body, his smell of antiperspirant and aftershave, and not with the heat of his hard arousal against your ass and lower back. 

His fingers clearly stated their intent against your inner thigh, pausing an inch away from where you needed him most. 

“May I?” he asked, breath tickling your ear. 

You could hear a little hint of mischief in his voice; the ironic move of his eyebrows.

“Yes please,” you breathed.

“Anything for the birthday girl,” he whispered, nuzzling briefly at your neck.

And he stroked your outer lips with gentle fingers, his index trailing back up your slit, the tip skimming slickness that had already gathered there.

He made an appreciative sound at his discovery, and you moaned at the throb of pleasure from just this teasing movement, bucking against him and momentarily pressing his cock against you more firmly.

“You’re so pretty,” he rasped into your ear, fingers parting your outer lips to reach your excited nub and stroking it in smooth, luxuriant circles, “look at you. So perfect.”

You whimpered and tossed your head helplessly against his shoulder. Heat was already building in your sex, your toes curling against your sheets. The foundations for your orgasm were laid from his very first touch of your aching pussy, your body crying out for him from the moment he kissed you. Now, you were helpless to his fingers: as confident and efficient in rubbing your needy clit as in all his other movements. 

“You deserve to be treated special.” he whispered, “This good?”

“Five.” 

“Yes?”

“Five.”

You could hardly say more, brain scrambling like beaten eggs until no vocabulary remained but the name of the man whose fingers were making come slowly drool down your thighs.

“Want me to stop?” he whispered, tenderly.

You shook your head fiercely. 

“Fi-ive!” you whined again, becoming completely inarticulate now as his ankles hooked around yours, holding your legs open gently. He could sense you beginning to ride your edge, could surely sense the heat burning and coiling and tightening in your stomach until - 

You cried out when you came, feeling more come gush from you, soaking his fingers and your thighs alike. He spoke softly to you as the waves of pleasure broke on you one by one, each bringing a fierce buck of your hips backwards against his hard, hot cock, sandwiched between you.

“That’s it.” he encouraged, “There you go. Feel good, sweetie?” 

You could do nothing but whimper and let yourself be carried by the rapture, surges exploding down each limb again and again.

“God, you’re so beautiful.”

Your orgasm subsided, leaving you panting against him. 

Through your recovery, he whispered more tender affirmations and praise into your ear, kissing and nosing at the side of your neck as he tried to distract himself from the tingles going up and down his length and the precome still leaking from his tip as your movements against him teased his excited cock. 

After you’d caught your breath, you became aware of the needy way he was kissing you; of the barely-there grinding of his pelvis; of his dick rubbing against you.

“Can I -?” came the desperate, half-articulated whisper.

“Yes please,” you replied.

He laid you down as if you were fragile, like an injured dove held in cupped hands. His gentle movements offered a stark contrast to the state of his gorgeous, curved cock. The tip was an angry pink, his balls high and tight with arousal. Intrigued, you began to caress that heated, swollen part of him. He hissed as you weighed and massaged his balls in one hand, the other closing around his shaft, already slick with precome.

“Don’t judge my stamina based on this, okay?” he said, voice cracking as his neck arched along with your strokes, “How about you stop that and we can try for quality over quantity?” 

It was spoken with self-consciousness that seemed unnecessary to you, given that he’d just rubbed your clit to a thigh-trembling orgasm quicker and more effectively than anyone you’d ever been with. You let his cock go and kissed him on the mouth as he lowered himself towards you. 

When he entered you, his mouth was still on yours, and you felt his sigh or relief against your lips. 

He filled you perfectly, your plush walls immediately gripping him, surrendering him reluctantly as he withdrew. You could see the tight pinch between his eyebrows. His eyes were already screwed shut. 

“Oh.”

The whisper was small and strung out, and you kissed his cheek and lips to encourage him as he let out a few, trembling breaths. 

“That feel good?”

“Yeah,” you gasped, “it feels good, Five. 

His strokes were slow, but skillful, his hips rutting with gentle fluidity. 

“I want to make you feel good,” he whispered, stroking your cheek, “I want to show you how special you are.”

From the movement of his body alone, you would have imagined him in complete control, not even close to his edge, but his increasingly fevered whispers and messy kisses to your lips and neck told a different story.

“Your pussy is so good. It’s so fucking wet.”

You kissed him back, nodding and moaning in affirmative as that perfect curve rubbed you just right inside, the low tempo building an ache as sweet and gentle as his thrusts. You gasped, pulsing around him, and his hips stuttered for the first time.

“F-fuck.” he breathed, “So hot. So perfect.”

He tensed.

“I’m close.”

You smiled against his ear. You were on birth control and you knew enough about Five to know that he didn’t raw-dog every barista who made him a good cup of coffee. It wasn’t logical or sensible but it was the only thing that seemed right after two years of illogical, foolish denial. 

“Come inside me.”

“You sure?”

You barely had time to confirm it to him before he let out an inarticulate cry. His dick pumped hard inside you, coating your walls with his load with his head buried in your neck, still keeping you gasping throughout with controlled, gentle, sensuous pumps of his pelvis.  

***

“You want coffee?”

You lay, bare-breasted on his chest as Five combed his fingers through your hair, feeling warm, content, and glowing from his tenderness. 

“Let me get it for a change.” he said.

“Wow, it really is my birthday,” you teased. 

You heard a short exhale of laughter as he extracted himself gently from the bedsheets. 

“Sure is.”

And, with as little care for his nakedness as if this was his own apartment, he headed across the bedroom, turning back at the door with a wry smile.

“And it’s not over yet.”

Tag list: (please comment to be added or removed): @thebearmage, @nevbrooke-555, @fiannee, @abeeabee6969

Oneshot Masterlist >> HERE

NOTE: I take Five requests, I'm fairly versatile in what I write (fluff, smut, angst, psychological character study- I'll try it all) but I will consider them on a case by case basis. See oneshot masterlist for request status and more.

[vikintor]

The Githyanki map and an idea about the community

"Githmap" is the silly way I'm calling my GZdoom map for now. 

It's is short map where you explore a Githyanki stronghold in first person (playing as a Githyanki as well), made in the Doom Engine. I don't have plans to release it for now, as I'm making it in a way to learn GZdoom.

But because I'm thinking a lot about my Gith OC's Jez'rathki, Draa'zvir and a lot of cool characters made by other kind Gith-enjoyers I'm considering not making this short map as something about me and only for myself but something for the community, a small gift perhaps, I will try to explain my idea below:

Imagine something that looks like Daggerfall but it is just a simple short visit to a virtual museum where you can explore a bit, see the paintings of other people's OCs on the walls, and talk to other Githyanki OCs to know their lore, their favorite food, besides getting the their creators @ (if they want).

That's my idea, reaching out to more Githyanki/Githzerai fans out there and asking if they want to add their OC character as a guest appearance, or opening a way to let everyone sign to participate with their GithOC.

The stronghold from my map is formed by rebels, spies, and simple Gith seeking sanctuary, with the context being inspired by "The Lich-queen's beloved". 

I still need to prepare a mini Tutorial on how to get the raw assets ready for me to export them to GZdoom (As I'm doing all the code) for everyone interested in having their OC there.

I don't feel so comfortable now reaching everyone without everything ready (just give a time to prepare a better post) 

But I can share the basic concept of how it works:

GRAPHICS

I took screenshots of this character screen of my OCs and NPC's in 5 Directions each (So I will cut the background and convert the sprites)

DIALOGUE TREE

Every NPC OC has a dialogue tree in the Githmap. For that one, I will prepare a series of questions your OC can answer (They can be friendly or rude about it) plus you can also provide additional questions (and answers) for your own OC so I can add them as well. 

Each question from my questionnaire is something the player character can choose to ask your OC, stuff like "What do they do for a living?", "what is their story, etc". Your custom questions can go deep on your OC story, like if you want the player to ask "What is the story behind their scars" etc.

I believe the best approach for now is making the map to be set before the events of BG3, because it would be odd if a bunch of OC's lore starts to reference cannon characters in different and contratitory ways, but It will have a few exceptions as I didn't decided everything yet (I need to add a Voss reference sorry). 

VOICE PERFORMANCE

Just a warning: Voices are not necessary. I just adding voices if I receive then, If I don't, its fine.

My OC's and NPC's don't have voices in-game , but if someone want to add voice to their OC there's ways do to it:

Recording an mp3 of a greetings message for the player to listen to when talking with your OC for the first time. 

Or recording some generic lines that go on most answers.

Or fully recording lines. 

CREDITS

As a short one map fangame, I will be credited as the programmer and organizer of the project, each asset used is credited to its original authors, and each person OC and asset will also be credited in two places, in the credits and the in-game dialogue alongside the OC name (example: Draa'zvir [by @vikintor]), because if I add other people OC in the game I want other players to know who created that OC, making it more like a connected experience and giving more musseum vibes.

[naeverse]

I was wondering if u declined the birthday request thingy cuz i was waiting for it lmao-hi! Yeah the birthday thing that might or might not be my birthday lol i was hesitating actually to send that at first im glad u liked the idea it was too personal request that i was hoping to be like a little gift thingy lol AH CANT WAIT IEJDJDJD

(m giving myself a nickname call me ❄️)

OMG I'm so happy that you saw the oopsie I made and resent your request!! I was beating myself up so much that night! 😭😭

And don't ever be afraid to request me anything. I love writing for you lovely people! 😊

But I hope you enjoy your birthday gift from me! 💜💜

(*All rights reserved. DO NOT repost/translate/copy any of my work.*)

Miguel would be the type of boyfriend you don’t really expect to do anything for your birthday. Although, you wouldn't mind it with him being the leader of the Spider Society and Spiderman. 

Your boyfriend is a busy man, and just his company on your birthday would be enough. 

But this time, he surprised you. 

He turned up at your door with a bouquet, a gift box, and a bag of takeout food. “Thought I'll keep you guessing.” He said with a deep chuckle, leaving you in shock.

You invite him in and the two of you settle onto your sofa, beginning to eat the delicious food he’d selected to celebrate your big day, which was succulent and left you wondering how much he spent on such a delectable meal. 

Whilst you busied yourself in finishing up in eating, he set up your bouquet of flowers; removing their plastic wrap, snipping the end of the stems, and placing them into a glass vase of water. 

The beautiful plants were your favorite color and bloomed beautifully as he set the vase onto the center of your dining table. The flowers, being a symbol of his love for you despite being his usual stoic self on the outside. 

When he returned to the couch, you were stuffed and content, but your boyfriend wasn’t finished with his bearing of gifts. He pulls out the present from before, handing it to you with a smile.

“Open it.” He simply said as you could tell he was trying to hide the anticipation on his chiseled face whilst waiting for you to reveal the gift he'd chosen. 

Although Miguel was a coldhearted man to others, he was deep down, sentimental. Inside of your gift box was something that set your heart ablaze, and knocked you off your feet.

Inside of the box was an expensive necklace, one that held the initials, ‘M.O’ on it.

His initials. 

At the sight, you almost shed a tear, which only made him laugh, insisting on allowing him to put it on you. You’ll hand him the sacred jewelry, settling it in his large palm. Delicately, he moved your hair to one side, giving him better access before binding the necklace together around your neck. 

When you turn around to face him with his initials dangling in the center of your collarbones, it makes his heart skip a beat. “How do I look?” You ask, which only brings a smile to his tanned lips.

“Sexy. Like always.” He says, unable to contain himself and pulling you into a kiss; one that is passionate and searing, and would leave one dizzy but longing for more when you depart. 

But Miguel wasn’t planning on letting you go anytime soon. 

His radio, signalling the crimes happening in Nueva York could fill the room and he would still not leave your side. 

Not tonight…

Upon choosing and customizing the beautiful necklace for you, he had made a promise to himself. 

That once he'd placed the gorgeous jewelry onto your neck, the one bearing his initials that marked you as his - he would grant you a night full of passion and love.

One that would be full of your cries of his name, and leave your body satisfied and his love for you, evident. Even then, he wouldn't stop cherishing you. 

He'll continue making love to you, with the gorgeous necklace holding his initials upon your neck until your birthday is over, the birds have awoken from their slumber and the sun is rising in the morning sky. 

Even when your peaks have been reached and the heated passions between the two of you have ceased, he wouldn't stop showing his love. 

You’ll lay together under the disarray of sheets and blankets, snuggling into one another. His thick fingers combing through your hair whilst you rested against his hardened pecs. His steady heartbeat, touch, and warmth slowly lulling you to sleep. 

Before succumbing to the land of dreams, you'll feel his plush lips, pressing a kiss upon your head and soon hear his deep voice, whispering lovingly into your ear.  

“Happy Birthday, mi amor.”

A/N: Happy Belated birthday❄️!

I hope you enjoyed the gift! 🎉🎂

(*All rights reserved. DO NOT repost/translate/copy any of my work.*)

[heartfullofleeches]

Convenience Store

Yandere Goddess x G.N Reader

Genre/Tags: Comedic Horror, Yandere| Mentions of blood and death

Word count: 1k

-

She's late again.

This is the sixth time in a row that your coworker has shown up late for work. You both work in a crappy convenience store in the middle of nowhere, where you and her are the only employees; aside from constantly changing your manager whom you never hear from unless they're screaming into the telephone.

Ding - Ding

The sliding doors' sensor alerts you to a new arrival with a friendly jingle. You know it could only be one person - since you never actually got any customers. The woman pulls off her coat and baseball cap with the line of "People fear me, Fish want me" crudely drawn on with a marker, and sits both on the floor by the coat rack. She coincidentally happens to be wearing a shirt with the same line and poor penmanship.

She strolls over to the frozen drink machine; creating a concoction of each flavor - and a bottle of an energy supplement. She, at least, makes her way to the counter; finishing the drink in a few gulps. She grins at you, eyes hidden behind red riffs of hair.

"Heya, Y/n. How's my favorite cashier?"

"Hey, Salem."

She scoffs at the nickname. "I told you that's not my name. You know what it is."

You really didn't. She never told you what it was or wore her badge. You started calling her that due to the brand of cigarettes she smoked, and created quite the tab on. You didn't care much either way, especially since you had plans after work.

"Can you hurry up and clock in? I'll be late to my appointment so they can take off this cast."

A day before your first shift, you got into an accident that broke your right arm. They still made you come in the next day, bit Salem was nice enough to draw a skull as well as write her phone number on it. Over the phone your doctor informed you that today was the day. You hope you'll be able to find the hospital in time.

Salem wiping a blood stain off the counter before she leabs against it. "Yeah, it's about that time. I made sure to give the guy who did it an extra swing before I threw him in the woodchipper."

"Thanks?"

She sighs. "I'm gonna miss all this?"

"Are you quiting or something?"

"No, but you are in a way. You're finally waking up."

"What are you talking about?"

Salem pulls out a lighter, grabbing a pack of cigarettes from behind you. "There's something I gotta tell you, Y/n."

"Okay?"

"You're dead."

"...o...kay"

"You were sacrificed by a cult to awake a being of unspeakable power. One they believed could gift them that same power, but it doesn't want that. It just wants to destroy. Been doing that for quite some time now."

"Alright."

"I'm that being, Y/n. I've kept you in this limbo for what feels like months, but has only been 48 hours. It took me a while to figure out how put you back together. It was like working with wet play-doh that kept falling apart and had bones."

"I sorta figured that out by now."

"Right. What you probably haven't figured out is that I'm in love with you. I've done this little song and dance before, but there's something about you that I can shake from my mind. I'm not even technically that God. I'm one of its meals that took over after it was killed. That's how its immortally works. Pretty vicious cycle."

Salem lights her cigarette, taking a long drag as she pats you on the back. "I'm only telling you this as a caution for what you're about to see. It ain't pretty, and I'm not either - but I don't have any plans of letting you go. I've decided to turn a new leaf. Peace and love, and all that. Less someone tries to take ya from me again.. See you in a few, Y/n."

She finally clocks in. You head to the store's exit, a white light beyond its reach. You had questions, but they would have to be left to another time as your body moves on its own. The door chimes once more as you take your final exit.

-

You wake on the floor of a large cabin; a foul stench in the area and piles of bodies around you. An outstretched arm lies in front of you - and nothing more. A familiar jacket is thrown over your body; your own clothes sticky and cold from the puddles of blood around you - one centering from right beneath you. You slowly sit up, remembering what happened before you died.

You were on your way home from work and had to take a side road due to construction. While making your way, a truck plowed into your car; knocking you out cold. You woke back up right before they slit your throat.

A frightened scream draws your attention to the front of the room; the alter where your life was stolen. A cult member is held in the large fist of a near indescribable figure. Its head scraps the ceiling; back turned so all you can see is the tail coat of its attire and the edge of the mask that hides its upper face. The pinkish tendrils that flow from its head weave together in what you could best describe as a lion's mane. It pulls back the mask that covers its face, a multitude of black tongues sweeping across the cult member's face before separate pairs of jaws are clamp around their body. It drops what's left of the corpse like a discarded rag; turning its head upon you.

It steps forward, a mist enveloping its body as it moves. As the fog shrinks and clears, you're left staring at your old coworker who greets you with a wide grin - fixing her cap on her head as she holds out her arms.

"Welcome back, baby! Gathered a welcoming party just for ya!"

Salem walks over, taking her jacket from your lap and putting it on before offering you her hand.

"Hope you don't forget everything I told you. Let's go get something to eat, I'm starving."

[luimagines]

That Dragon Au Part 12

Flowers are a love language. @cafecourage

Masterlist

First Chapter/ Previous Chapter/ Next Chapter

Content under the cut!

Chapter 12: Pasts Reawakened

Wind smiled and pulled Enno out of the store as fast as he could just in case.  "That guy likes to over sell the flowers all the time. The build-your-own-bouquet doesn't have set prices since they sell by the ounce. He likes to over charge and get as many people on those as he can. That being said, if it was  another person, I would have let you go for it. Those you can enchant and get the flowers to glow in the dark or repeat messages and stuff. There's a lot more but I remember those the most."

"Figured much. I recognized that tactic." They started swinging their hands together. "Either way, thank you for having my back, Sailor." It's a nice time overall now. "Wanna go back and finish training with Twi and Sky? I probably should be in the room when the chest arrives."

Wind gladly swung their hands back and forth with exaggerated movements. "Hmm... Maybe? That sounds like a good idea for you. Warrior should still be working. He said he wouldn't finish until some time around dinner time. Apparently it was worse than he thought."

Enno hummed in agreement. They needed to also talk to Warrior about what the doctor said. After he finishes, of course. "Ok! Then let's go back."

"Alright." Wind loses himself to his thoughts and absentmindedly leads Enno through Castle Town and back to the castle. They both ended up back in the garden where Twilight and Sky were now fighting against Wild and Legend. This group smelled bad.

Wind's frowns and makes a face. "You all should shower."

Wild grins. "Wind! Your turn! Let's go! You and me!"

Enno gave Wind a push. "Have fun, don't push yourself too hard." 

They waved the others goodbye and headed up to the room. They wanted to beat the furniture people but also get there with enough time to annoy Warrior. Both are equally important.

Wind grinned and waved them off as well. By the time Enno reached Warrior's room they could hear a minor commotion on the inside.

They closed their eyes, sighing for a moment before knocking on the door and opening it "I'm baaaack!"

"Enno!" Warrior calls out gleefully. "You're just in time! I forgot you wanted to go shopping. The guys here are just setting it up."

He walked over to them and kissed their forehead. "Did you have fun?"

"Mhm. Here, we got these for you since you've been holed up in your room." Enno gave him the flowers and peaked behind him to see the movers putting the ottoman down. "I was hoping to beat them here just in case you still were working."

Warrior looked taken aback by the gift. He hesitated to take them.

"Oh.... thank you..." Warrior gets a bit choked up and teary eyed. "They're beautiful."

He laughed a bit and nervously scratched behind his neck. "My favorite. …Umm... The desk and vanity should be done soon as well. They had to take it apart and reassemble the both of them for easier travel. Good colors, sturdy wood. You picked well."

“It’s not really a custom where I come from but I like the idea of getting your partner flowers occasionally.” Enno was too busy trying to explain the flower before they registered what else Warrior had said. They blinked at him, confused. “But I only bought-….”

Enno remembered then, that they left Wind loose in the store. “That sneaky little-” They laughed out loud, not mad at all. They smiled. “Wind went to look at other things. I didn’t expect that he would buy things.”

"Oh Wind did that-?" He snorts and covers his mouth with one hand, holding the flowers in the other. "I guess he really wants you to stay."

Warrior softened and turned to go back to his desk. "So do I to be honest."

He placed the flowers on his desk, moving some papers around so that he'd have the room. "Daffodils....." He mumbles. "Mom, you would have loved these."

Enno paused for a moment, seeing the workers out and paying them if they weren’t already. Once they closed the door, I turned back around. “It’s funny. When Wind suggested Daffodils, I thought about how me and my dad would look after the wild ones we had growing in the yard.”

They came over to hug him from behind. “I was happy to find something with Tulips since we always made a day out of picking the bulb and planting them. Seems like we have a little more in common than we thought.”

Warrior gets a bit choked up again. His hands rest on theirs.

"My mother had a patch of daffodils next to our house before.... It was her pride and joy. We didn't really have much compared to other families but she took good care of it. My sister actually has tulips by her house. She lives with our grandmother. Daffodils... were my mothers favorite flower and I'm inclined to agree with her."

Warrior turned and hugged them properly. "No one has gotten me flowers before. Thank you."

He kissed their hair.

“I noticed your attempts with dragon courting so I wanted to do my own thing.” Enno held him, purring in an attempt to comfort him a bit. “I am happy that they mean a lot to you.”

They swayed a bit, trying to not make him cry. “You.. mention your mother a lot. I won't ask about what happened and will wait until you tell me, but I want you to know that I’m here for you if you need a moment to let your emotions out. It's ok to cry no matter how long it's been.”

Warrior's breath hitched and he held them tighter, tensing up. He laughed a bit. "I love you."

Something wet landed on their shoulder. "I still miss them. It was my fault."

He took a deep breath. Enno was inclined to think that he wiped his eyes from where they couldn’t see it. "You're incredible and amazing and sweet and I'm so... happy that I met you... that you like me back."

He giggled and swayed with them some more, peppering their head with kisses. "You're so important to me."

They wanted to argue that it wasn’t his fault, no matter what happened but they didn’t want to pry further. “It’s bad to hold in things, but I know that it's hard to open up to someone.” 

They spun him around so he could sit in his chair. They sat on his lap, making it easier for themselves to hold him. “Your amazing, you know? I don’t think you realize that. Not everyone has the balls to run out into battle without thinking. You also make Wind really happy now that he can call you Dad more freely. There’s so much you do even with the other boys. You take care of them all.”

Warrior choked on his spit when Enno had just placed themselves onto his lap. A blush bloomed across his face and he struggled to maintain eye contact.

"A part of me wants to argue with that, but you won't hear it, will you?" He softened and gently placed his head on their shoulder. "I know you’re right... I just wish...." Warrior takes a breath. "I never got to grieve."

His arms came up to hold them and he pulled them in close. "What's your family like? You mentioned your father and you planting the flowers."

Enno didn’t respond right away. “Well… it’s just my dad, my sibling and my mom.My family has been pretty chaotic.” They said simply as this wasn’t a conversation yhey really wanted to talk about freely. “It was always fun to have my sibling around in middle school as I was pretty stupid in my choices.”

Enno looked away so they could look out the window. “Anyway, right now it's calmer. My dad and sibling and I  are all still close-ish. He would tease the hell out of you as My dad would just be shocked to see me socializing.”

"Hm..." Warrior began to rub their back and purred. "I'm sorry it wasn't as peaceful as it should have been. Our fathers might have gotten along.. My sister is still around. She doesn't remember much, but I bet she'd love to meet you.....But what's a middle school... or a high school?"

“It’s basically how we do our education. I was like… 14? When I started middle school? My memory is pretty bad from back then. High school is like 16 - 18 years old. I would love to meet your sister. A warning if you meet my dad. He tends to talk a lot. Get him going and he can keep up a one sided conversation, big technology guy.” They purred with him as they pulled back, calming themselves down in the process.

"That's alright." Warrior laughed some more, easier and lighter this time. "Sounds like my sister. If they're anything alike then I'm sure we'll get along just fine."

He hummed a bit and started to play with their hair. "You never told me how your check up went. I want full details."

“Ah…. Right so… basically what I have is called Chronic Magicailial syndrome? From what I can tell, the gland I have that stores the magic, loses magic too much before I can produce more to replenish. There is apparently a low risk surgery I can get but I didn’t really want to make a decision just yet. The doctor also wants to see us tomorrow in the morning, and by us I mean me. I just need to bring someone along.”

Warrior nods. "I thought so... I know a guy. He had a similar thing. More mild though. I... don't know what to say about the surgery to be honest. That gland plays a role in dragon flight but I don't currently remember what it does exactly." He sighed and leaned against the chair. "What time tomorrow?"

“Ahahahaha- I aammm terrified of heights.” Enno laughed awkwardly. “Honestly, she just told me to arrive before sun down since it takes 18 hours after the collection to get the results. Going in the morning is probably the best bet since we do leave tomorrow. I was actually thinking about getting surgery later if we come back here.”

Warrior nodded. "Well whatever you decide. I don't know what we'd have to do for a surgery if you choose it. You have to set a date for those and we might not be here for that."

He tries to think for a moment. "Did they give you any other options to deal with it? Or is it the only thing to fix it?"

“I have to take magic potions, I believe on a schedule. They took that sample to see what type I am before deciding on the said schedule.” Enno laid their head back down on his shoulder, giving a few kisses to his neck. “After getting that, I would want to tell the others about my other condition. That's what I normally do just in case.”

"That would be a good idea." Warrior admits. "In that case, we should stock up before we leave on potions. Hyrule would need a few but I'd like to know if your going to be ok until we can make it to the next town or city."

Warrior arches his neck to give them better access to his neck. "Did you have anything planned today? It sounds like all there is left to do it wait."

“Nope, I did everything I wanted to do today.” Enno continued their venture lazily since they didn’t want to move their head too much. “I was hoping you’d let me spend the rest of the day with you while you work. I can start moving your horde into the ottoman if you want.”

Warrior purrs louder. "I'd love that. It might get a bit boring here though."

He ran his jaw against their shoulder. Enno felt a surge of his scent waft into their nose in the process. "Where's Wind by the way? You leave him all by his lonesome?"

They buried their face into his shoulder, purring up a storm. They were very happy right now. “He is with Twi, Sky, Wild and I think Legend? They were all still practicing in the garden.” With more energy, they give him more affection, “I just want to spend a little more alone time with you before we hit the road.”

Warrior purrs at their tempo in response. Satisfaction was radiating off of him. "I'd like that."

He took a deep breath. "I'm not done though..."

He made no moves to get back to work.

Enno doesn’t move either. 

“How much do you have to do?” They asked, starting to kiss his jaw and face. “I can wait until you're done. It's not that much to put away.”

Warrior took a deeper breath, relaxing under their touch as they spoke. "I have at least five more pages to write. I'm almost done but there have been times in the past where I’ve miscalculated. I assumed I'd be done by dinner time but with lunch up and gone, I don't know how much I actually left to do."

Underestimating how much they missed him, Enno didn’t let up on the attacks of affection. They rubbed their wrists and hands up into his hair, getting their scent on him in a possessive claim. “How about you check to see how much longer it will take and I will get started on getting all the horde together in one place? Then we can take a break for dinner and see what to do from there.”

He growled before it fell into a purr and rubbed more of his jaw against them before pulling away. "Alright...ok... That sounds like a decent plan."

They finally noticed the scent coming from his jaw. "Is this your scent gland?" I asked, tipping his head up, giving his jaw a few extra kisses. "Anyway, time for work, Soldier Boy." 

Enno moved to get up.

A deep and low growl ripped through Warrior before he could stop. He didn't look upset....more like- "That's a sensitive spot, Sweetheart."

His face was red and his features were soft. "You are a tease."

Enno could see him fighting the grin from his face. He's losing.

They cupped his face in response. "What are you going to do about it?"

They used their thumb to give his jaw a soft rub. "Ok, I think it's time for work for real now." They let go and officially got up. "We can continue that later."

"I'll look forward to it." Warrior's gaze turned heavy before he forced himself around and back into his work.

Enno heard him take in a long breath before he fell silent.

Enno started to put the other dragons' (the noble dragon that Time had all but ripped to shreds) stuff away, since it was less meaningful than the other things. It then came to their realization that Warrior didn't know that they knew where his horde actually was.

Warrior filled the silence with gentle scratches against the paper as well as the occasional flip.

After an hour or so he sighed and stretched. He looks back at them and smiles. He turned back to his work and finished up the document relatively quickly all things considered.

The organizing was all that bad honestly since they put everything in piles earlier. Enno got rid of the gold pile first and moved over the extras. They weren’t paying attention to what Warrior was doing in the meantime.

Warrior finished the document at last and put all of his papers in order. He shoved them in a folder before he stood, popping his back as he went. 

"I'll be right back Sweetheart. I have to turn this in."

"Mhm, when you come back I need you to show me where your actual horde is. I don't want to move it without you here." Enno looked up from where they were. "Also be safe."

Warrior paused by the door and he turned to look at them. They could feel him physically hesitate before he spoke.  "It's the top and bottom two drawers of my dresser. It's not much. There should be space."

He opened the door. "I'll be back."

Enno waited until he left before continuing their organizing again. Like they told him, they weren't going to touch what he already had in there until he was there to oversee it. Not their sentimental stuff though. Why bother moving it? They do know now, however, where the horde is.They would be able to protect it, just in case.

Moments passed and suddenly, without warning someone tried to open the door.

It doesn't work.

Like it's been locked.

Enno could hear a muffled sound from the other side before the person on the other side tried to open it more forcefully.

They weren’t successful.

Enno let out a sigh and shut the ottoman loudly at the first sign of people. Annoyed, they shout. “Links not here at the moment, have some patience please before almost hitting someone with the door."

Enno opened the door before they had the chance to attempt to force the door open again. They nearly collided with each other.

"Oh my goodness, that boy!" Zelda sighed and cursed.

Very unlady-like.

"Would you be so kind as to tell me where he is?" She said afterwards. "I have an urgent matter to discuss with him. Is he in his office? He hates the place but I must find him."

Enno struggled to hold back their amusement at the princess.

“Link said that he went to file the documents he just finished so I can only assume yes. Is this something I should worry about or-?…” They asked, wondering if they should be concerned or not. It seemed like something was always happening in this castle.

Zelda sighed and rubbed circles into her temple. "Im.... not at liberty to say. But... You're his lover, yes? Im aware this little group of yours leaves soon enough bit please be careful. Cia is nearly fully healed and she's still intent on running rampant through my castle."

She turned and bowed a bit. "Well, I'll have to track him down I suppose." She paused before she left. "....He means a lot to us.... Please look after him."

And then she walked away.

Enno once again closed the door and relocked it, sighing. Already knowing that they had to finish up fast before Cia gets out, they wished that there was a way for them to contact Pinky throughout all of this but they didn't think their phones would work since there was no wifi or cell service. It had been days since they had talked decently and there were clearly some very important things happening where neither of them could see each other. They went back to putting things away, knowing full well that Warrior wasn’t coming back anytime soon.

There was a smaller knock on the door and it opened easily. "Moma? Are you in here?"

Wind walked in hesitantly. "Dad?"

"I'm here, Sweetheart." Enno called from their spot on the floor. "Are you done sparring?" They asked, dropping the rest of the gems in the ottoman before patting the floor next to them for Wind to sit. "Did you take a shower yet?"

Wind jogged over and sat down. "Nope!" He grinned. "I had fun though. I got to throw Wild around."

"That- sounds fun." Enno continued to put the treasure into the ottoman once Wind was situated. "I see you bought more furniture while we were at the store. You are a sneaky little pirate."

Wind grinned and laughed. "Now you have stuff for you!"

He rocked back and forth subtly. "I didn't think you'd want to mess with Warriors stuff even if he would be ok with it. So you get your own space."

Enno teared up  but looked away, trying to not let Wind see their emotional state. They hugged him. “Thank you, Wind. That means a lot more than you think.” They let go quickly. “But you need a bath. Go wash up, mister.”

Wind groans. "I don't stink that bad."

"Yes you do." Warrior snorted, startling the both of them. "Did you have fun?"

"Yup!" Wind grinned and stood up to greet him.

"Good." Warrior ruffled his hair. "Take a shower."

Wind pouts. "Fine."

“Oh- Hello sir.” Enno looked up at him, smiling. “Zelda was looking for you. Did she find you? Also, I didn’t move your horde yet, I wanted you to take care of it since it’s sentimental.”

Warrior's smile was wiped off. "She was-?.... oops... Well Lana found me. And uhh..." He waited for Wind to get in the bathroom before he took his spot next to you. "Cia is expected to make a full recovery... yay.... and also, she's threatening homicide. So that's fun."

He sighed and looked at Enno pensively. "....I... don't want to make your life difficult. If..." He took in a struggling breath and lowered his voice. "I want to think about this... us... I would have you by my side in a heartbeat but it seems unfair to you to deal with all of this."

“Not the first time my life was threatened.” Enno put their head on his shoulder. “Nor is it the first place I’ll live in where someone threatened me so it's fine. Honestly I don’t think you realized this but I’m not leaving your side. Yeah, there's Cia, but honestly I’m not scared of her like… someone else… If anything I  find her sad because I know she wasn’t always like that. I’m afraid you need to break my heart to the point of it being unusable to get rid of me.”

Warrior tenseed and wrapped his arms around them tightly. "Hmmm... alright. I'll have to take your word for it."

He nuzzled them closely with his head and sighed. "It just feels selfish on my part. I can't give you the life I'd want to.... not with Cia in the picture, I'm afraid." He kissed the top of their head. "I wouldn't ever give a reason for your heart to break.... I just didn't want my baggage to push you away. Emotional or otherwise."

“Honestly, there have been moments where I’ve been tempted to flat out ask you to mark me. I don’t think your baggage is an issue at all.” They hugged him back, purring. “We both need help and a bit of tender love and care. But that's ok. We can take it one day at a time. Cia will have to get used to it.”

Warrior started to purr at their first sentence alone. "That's.... quite the declaration, my dear.... That's virtually the human equivalent of marriage."

[miyuhpapayuh]

𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.

"Over here, Simone!"

A woman with bright blue eyes, standing near the left of the black podium raises her tape recorder up towards the beaming redhead.

"Yes?" She fiddles with the golden charm bracelet on her arm. One of the many small gifts that she'd received, this morning, from Anthony. All of the charms were specially made with real diamonds, including her favorite one; 'Imani' written in a signature font.

"What does it mean to you, to be recognized by Allura?" The woman asks.

"I personally feel like it's long overdue, but I also feel like everything happens in its own time. I put my all into these magazines and I'm really grateful that my talent is being recognized. It means a lot to me."

"How long have you been with the company, Ms. Carson?" An older man asks.

"It's been a wonderful three years." She smiles.

"At your age, I'm positive that this is a milestone for you," Simone nods, "what advice would you give to your following or anybody that wants to be an entrepreneur?"

"That might be the best question I've ever gotten." The room fills with slight laughter. "Well, this definitely is a big accomplishment for me and I have nobody to thank, but God. The only advice that I have would be to just believe in yourself. You'll get knocked down and rejected, but that's inevitable. You have to have faith that whatever your plan is, is worth it. Someone's gonna recognize that fire in your eyes and give you a chance to show your capabilities. It's a process, but it's worth it."

"One last question, do you ever wanna retire and settle down or are you gonna keep this up and running?"

"I don't see myself as the 'settling down' type of woman, right now. As long as I'm in the right mind for this job, I wanna keep at it. Who knows what the future holds, though! I guess, we'll wait and see." She taps the podium and moves her hair away from her neck.

"Anything you wanna say to the people, Simone?" Her boss, Rose, asks.

"I just wanna say thank you to everybody that believes in me. I try my hardest to create a space for all women, especially my women of color and my creatives. Don't wait for a spot to be created for you, go out there and make it yourself. You got this."

"Thank you, Simone." She nods and makes her way down the side steps and out of the room.

Heading back to her office, Rose calls out for her. She turns on her heels and waits for her boss to close in the space between them.

"You're getting better at handling these press conferences. I'm very proud."

"Well, thank you. It can still be kinda nerve wracking, but I'm managing. Thanks again for the accolade. It was definitely a confidence booster." They begin to walk down the hall.

"Ah, you deserved it. You really do work hard, and I wanted to make sure that you know how much I appreciate you. You're one of a kind, dear." She pats her shoulder, before heading towards the elevator.

"Keep up the good work."

"Will do!" Simone heads further down the hall and into her office, closing the door behind her. The twenty-four red roses littering her side-table, makes her laugh.

"Alright," she sits down at her desk and opens her candy red, custom painted MacBook and checks off everything she's gotten done, so far.

"One hour, until this meeting— God, don't let it be boring!" She clasps her hands together and stares at the ceiling.

"Simone, you've got a call on line one." Logan buzzes through.

"Thank you, Lo."

Grabbing the phone off the hook, she holds it up to her ear, not even getting a word in before her mother's voice comes through.

"Congratulations, babygirl! I tried calling you yesterday, but I couldn't get through. Anyway, I'm so proud of you— your name is in bold, big letters!" Simone laughs.

"Thank you, mama. You're too much!"

"You had to get it from somebody, right?"

"This is true."

"Exactly. Now, tell me.... where's that man of yours?" Simone sucks her teeth. 

Ever since her mother met Anthony, she'd treated him like her one and only son- in law. Which is far from the case, but she wasn't too fond of Simone's sisters' husband, which Simone didn't blame her for.

"He's not my man and he's out of town."

"Have you talked to him?"

"We talked yesterday."

"You know... you're gonna wanna do more than just spend his money, one day."

"That's not all I keep him around for, thank you."

"He's just a piece of meat, huh?" The laugh comes before she can stop it, causing her mother to scoff on the other end.

"Can we please talk about something else?"

"Fine. Your sister's coming down in a week."

"For what?"

"She's my plus one for Jasmine's wedding. I thought I told you this."

"You didn't, but alright. Why's Will not coming? Not that I care, but where's he gonna be?"

"Apparently, he has to work and can't get out of it. That's what she told me."

Simone scoffs. "I'm surprised he showed up to his own wedding."

"Now, Simone."

"Am I lying? You know he's a dick— excuse my language."

Her mother sighs. "You're not wrong. But, at least, April won't be influenced by his nonsense."

"The fact she's ever on his side is beyond me, but that's a marriage, I guess."

"No, that's foolishness."

"Well, she's never been that smart, so—"

"Anyway, let me know when you girls have found the dress. I wanna see it." Simone sighs, heavily.

"I will, ma. I've got a meeting about the redesign of Allura, and then we'll head out that way after work."

"Alright, I'll let you get back to it."

"I'll call you when we get there. I love you."

"I l you too, sweets."

Hanging up, she buzzes Logan. "I'm out to lunch."

"Actually, your lunch just arrived. Would you like me to bring it to you?" Simone's brows furrowed in confusion.

"No, I'll come and get it."

Heading out of her own office, she heads down the adjacent hallway and walks into the black and crème colored office that belongs to her beloved assistant.

"Hey, sunshine. Here's your lunch." Logan grabs the white bag with South City Kitchen written in black letters on it, handing it to Simone.

"Thank you... who sent this?"

"It had a note attached to it," she grabs it off the desk and squints down at the cursive writing, "it's from an Anthony."

Simone's eye roll comes out playful, causing Logan to giggle. "Oh, that's why you're so cheery, today! Boyfriend?"

"Not even close. He's just a friend."

"Friends send each other two dozen roses and the sparkliest charm bracelet I've ever seen up close??"

Simone laughs, staring down at it., "it is blingin', huh?"

"Definitely. I need a friend like that."

"Do I have any more surprise packages comin' in?" She asks, side stepping her comment.

"That's all that's come through here. I'm sure you'll find more, when you leave here." They both share a small laugh.

"Dear God," she heads back to her office and calls Anthony, laughing as he immediately answers.

"What's so funny?"

"You are. How'd you know I was craving fried chicken?"

"Because, I know you." She rolls her eyes and pulls the styrofoam box out and opens it, sighing as the savory smell hits her nose.

"A year and some change ain't enough time for you to know me." He chuckles on the other end.

Pulling the cover off her plastic ware, she goes straight for the red-skinned potatoes, almost moaning at the taste.

"Sounds like you're enjoying it."

"I am! I haven't had these in forever," she sticks another forkful into her mouth. "We're still gonna fight."

"Why, princess?"

"Because, you're still not back. Thanks for the gifts, by the way."

"You're welcome and I'm closer to coming back than you think."

"That's not a time frame that I like. I've gotta go to this wedding alone. Not that I'm pressed about that sort of thing, but still... it'd be nice if you were in attendance." He laughs.

"I thought we didn't beat around this bush, baby girl. Just say you want me there."

"It wouldn't make a difference, Tony. You're not gonna be here, in time. The wedding is Saturday."

"How do you know that I won't finish all of this up, before then? Don't count me out. I could come through for you."

"We'll just have to wait and see, then."

"Keep those pretty brown eyes open, then."

"You're annoying," she snorted, sticking her fork into her chicken.

"That must be why you're still on the phone. When's the meeting?"

"For the building redesign?" she asks, quickly chewing her mouthful of food.

He chuckles an 'mhm'. She stares at her phone and sighs. "I've got like, thirty minutes. I know it's gonna be boring and I'm already kicking myself in the ass for agreeing to be a part of this shit."

"It may not be as bad as you think, Simone. Don't go in there with an attitude like that."

"Sorry, it just comes out naturally."

"Don't I know it." He mumbles, snickering as she sucks her teeth.

"I'm seriously smacking you up, when you get back. You've been gettin' too many jokes off."

"Aight, like your attitude ain't been super salty, lately."

"I need some dick! This always happens, when you leave.... you better not be fucking them bitches, out there." She frowns.

"Don't start that. You know this dick is exclusively yours."

"Yeah, it better be."

“As spoiled as you are, I wouldn’t even have time to give it to somebody else.” He says, making her cackle.

“Shut up!”

˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.̑ෆ₊̣̇˟̑ෆ

"Thank you all for attending this meeting." Rose's voice echoes throughout the spacious black marble conference room. "This is the first time that we've seen so many new faces, and we've got you to thank for that." She nods at Simone, who smiles in return.

"I'm glad to help."

"That's always a good thing. Now, the first step to redesigning this building is a theme. An aesthetic, if you will. I need colors, elements... all of it."

"I really like the mint theme we were discussing earlier." Brittany says, tapping her pen against the table.

"Is that really an everyday thing, though?" Lisa asks.

"It could be. What about an all black theme?"

"We don't wanna look dead!" Mark adds.

Simone laughs at the exchanges, feeling an idea brew in her own mind.

"I've got an idea."

"Let's hear it." Rose gestures towards her.

"How about the outside of the building being matte black and Allura being written in white calligraphy. The lobby could use something— say, you stay inside the marble theme, but splash some gray on the countertops and do a polished cherry wood for the walls by the elevators. The offices could stay customized, but the walls could stay black. The conference rooms could stay the way they are, maybe add a chandelier or some lights. The cubicles could use some sprucing up. I mean, just because you work in a confined space, doesn't mean it has to be bland. You could use cherrywood for those, too!"

"How long did it take you to come up with all of that?" Brittany asks.

"I literally just came up with everything. My mind was runnin' while y'all were talking." She laughs.

"Well, should we put you in charge of this whole thing? I love all of those ideas." Rose says, sitting down in her chair.

"You want me to be in charge?" Simone points to herself, "I don't know.... that's a huge responsibility, Rose."

"There'd be no pressure on you. All you'd have to do is make sure that everything is the way you like it. You'd be the boss," she smirks, "I know that's exciting to you. It's in your nature."

Simone can't help the widespread grin from showing up on her face.

"Well... in that case, I guess we got some work to do."

"Then, it's settled. I'll have a crew ready for you in a week, tops."

"Wow... am I really about to do this?" She asks herself out loud, making a couple of her colleagues laugh.

˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.̑ෆ₊̣̇˟̑ෆ

Walking inside of Goddess Bride, Jada and Simone are greeted by an umber toned woman with jade eyes.

"Welcome, ladies. Champagne?" Both hands grab the diamond flutes off the tray in response, causing the woman to laugh.

"Thank you," they say in unison, before heading towards the back, where Jasmine is waiting.

"Hey sis!," Jada pokes Jasmine's shoulder.

"Hey girls." She turns around and hugs her sister, doing the same to Simone. "I'm so glad you're here."

"Did you find the dress?"

"I've narrowed it down to two! Come look," Jasmine leads the way to her dressing room, which is ten times bigger than any 'dressing room' Simone's ever seen, on TV and in person.

"There's this one, which is probably the one I'll end up choosing. Let me try it on for y’all." Jasmine pulls the dress off the hanger and shoos them out of the dressing room.

"Your sister better be glad I love her," her and Jada walk over to the emerald loveseat across from the rooms., "cause, she got one more time to stick her hand in my face."

Jada laughs. "Don't kill her. She's just a little antsy, at the moment. She's been looking for dresses, ever since he proposed! The literal day he proposed, Simone." Jada emphasizes with a laugh, causing Simone to do the same.

"It's okay to be excited! I would be, too— did you see the size of that ring?!" Simone exclaims.

"It's a beauty, no doubt."

"Okay, close your eyes!" Jasmine yells from across the way. The pair do as they’re told.

"They're closed!"

Jasmine's dainty footsteps carry her across the floor as she flattens her hands against the soft crème material.

"Okay," she smiles, "you guys can open them up, now."

Removing their hands, they collectively gasp at the blushing almost bride, in all her glory.

From the body-hugging, silk silhouette with the back out, to the lace train that stops just below her behind, to the egg shell hue, gleaming over the entire dress.

"Well," with a teary-eyed smile, Jasmine asks, "what do you think?"

"You look," Jada starts.

"You look— wow, you look gorgeous!" Simone finishes.

"Breathtaking!," Jada sits her champagne down and hops up from her seat, smoothing her hand down the side of the dress.

“I’m mad it took me so long to find it! My wedding’s in less than a day, y’all!” Jasmine frowns.

“The important part is that you found it!” Smone says, heading toward the honey hued sisters. “It was made for you, seriously. You look beautiful.”

“Ugh. y’all love making me cry!” she whines and covers her face, making them laugh.

˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.̑ෆ₊̣̇˟̑ෆ

“Oh man, it’s been so long since I’ve sat in one of these!’ Jada sighs, her voice shaking slightly due to the vibration of the chair.

“I would say the same but I came here a couple months ago.” Simone says, fixing the cucumbers over her eyes.

Jada sucks her teeth and sits up in her chair, removing her cucumbers altogether. “Why don’t you just marry the man, already? He flies you out to these expensive ass countries, pampers you to no end, pays your bills!! Worships the literal ground you walk on!”

“Jada, relax!” Jasmine says, pulling hers away as well. “Are you jealous or something?”

“No, it's more of a, “call coming from inside the house” kinda thing. She could have that with Derek if she’d stop running from him, and she wants to project it on me.” Simone says, still laid in her relaxed position. She pulls a cucumber from her eye and eats its, meeting the gaze of a red-faced Jada.

“Suck my dick, Imani.”

“I’ve already got one of those to suck.” She winks.

Jasmine laughs and lays back in her chair. “You two are too much.”

“She started it.” Jada grumbles, before swinging her legs over the side and carefully placing them in the white slides that the hotel provides, avoiding chipping her freshly done baby pink toes.

“Where are you going?” Simone asks, just as her phone goes off.

“I gotta pee. Answer your phone. It might be your husband.” she cheekily responds, before sharply turning the corner.

“Ugh,’ grabbing her phone off the side table, she slides her finger across the screen and holds it up to her ear.

“Hey, beautiful.” His voice cuts through before hers, making her stop and laugh.

“You must have some bad news.” She responds, staring at her freshly done candy red acrylics.

“I’ve got good and bad news, actually.”

“Oh boy.. lay it on it.”

“I won’t be able to make it to the wedding, but I’ll be home the day after.” He says, causing her frown to deepen.

“I’m glad you’re coming back soon.” She says. Sighing anyway.

“But,” he trails off, knowing that wasn’t it.

“I really wanted you to be there. My mama’s been asking about you, I even talked you up to a couple cousins, cause those nosy heffas wouldn’t leave me alone! And, I know I’m just a bridesmaid and it doesn’t matter if I have a damn date or not, but weddings are always different.. They’re—”

“-special,” he ends, nodding like she could see him. “I know baby, I’m really sorry. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.’

Jada came back to her chair, taking in her friend’s red face, looking to her sister. “What happened?”

“He can’t make it to the wedding.” She responds.

“It’s fine, I’m sure you did everything you could. I’ll see you when you get back.”

“Alright, princess. I’ll see you later.”  He sighs, already formulating a plan in his mind.

Sitting her phone back down, a sad sigh leaves her. “This is why him being my man would be a disaster.”

“Why?” Jada and Jasmine ask.

“Cause! Look at how sad I am. I’m not getting married and he’s not even my boyfriend, and I’m near tears cause he can’t make your wedding. Too much is going on.”

“Maybe you like him a little more than you’re leading on,” Jada shrugs.

“Ugh,” she responds, having nothing else to say.

˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.̑ෆ₊̣̇˟̑ෆ

Rolling over on the queen size mattress, Simone smacks her hand down on her phone, forcing her stiffened joints to wake up and cut her blaring alarm off.

“Jesus Christ, that could wake up a dead person.” She sits up and rolls her eyes, already feeling the headache coming on for today’s events.

Before she can even process, Jasmine, Jada and their mom rush into her hotel room to wake her up, followed by a loud chatter as they pull her up from the bed.

“I’m glad you’re awake, we gotta get ready!” Their mama singsongs, latching her arm onto a half-sleep Simone.

“Get ready for what? The wedding isn’t until three. It’s… what time is it?” She asks, realizing that she didn’t have her phone on her.

“It’s a little after eleven,” Jada responds, handing it to her. “We let Jasmine sleep in a little, but it’s seriously time to get ready.”

“Okay, okay. I’m up.”

“Don’t worry, you’re not the only one hanging on by a thread.” She snickers as they move to the bridal suite, revealing five more sleep deprived women.

“You better be glad we love you.” One of them says, tossing the empty bottle of tequila in the trash.

Needless to say, their bachelorette party was a success.

“Trust me, I know I’ve been a bit much.”

“Dear god, cover us all.” Her mama mumbles, drawing an invisible cross and kisses her hand.

"You're so dramatic.... but amen."

"Alright, sit down so we can get started." Their cousin, Fiona, rolls out her pink suitcase and opens it up, pulling out her essentials for today's hairdo.

Jasmine had decided on the infamous half up, half down style with a swoop bang.

Taking her seat in one of the comfiest chairs known to man, Fiona gets to work, running her fingers through her newly pressed hair.

"I'm getting married today..." a smile spreads across her face like wildfire, causing everybody in the room to join in a chorus of 'awe's.

She covers her face as the heat rushes to her cheek.

"Seriously, it's finally happening! I get to marry the man of my absolute dreams. God, he's so perfect."

“He's gotta have a flaw, somewhere!” Jada argues.

"He really doesn't. I mean, nobody's perfect, but he is to me. He's human, just like the rest of us, but everything is so sunshine-y and real, at the same time. We get into it, but we talk through it. We let each other know what's on our minds at all times. There's no dark moments. No solitude in anger. Respect. So much trust, I'm tearing up just thinking about it- whew."

"You make me feel so mushy, I hate you." Simone playfully states.

"I love you too, sweets."

"I always thought Jada would get married, first.” Sierra, another cousin, admits.

"Why?" Jada asks.

"Because, you used to be so boy crazy, and you swore you were in love with what's-his-name...What's his name?"

"Who?" Fiona stops curling the top half of Jasmine's hair and squints in Sierra's direction.

"He was tall, pretty brown skin and he had the whitest teeth I've ever seen on a human being."

She snaps her fingers, trying to conjure up a name.

“Girl, Derek?!” Simone stares at Jada with wide eyes.

"Yes!” Sierra and Fiona confirm, while Jada tucks her bottom lip in and puts her attention on her sister, who's also giving her a puzzled glance.

"Jada... what? You were in love with him?" Simone asks.

"Maybe, it was something else that she was in love with." Their mama adds, shocking everybody.

"Ma!" Jada groans and covers her ears, while Jasmine laughs.

"Well, I'm probably right on the money, but I'll head out and let you speak your truth.” She says as she kisses her forehead and slides outside of the door.

"So, when did we start keeping secrets?"

Jada turns back towards Simone, whose glare could kill.

"It wasn't a secret. Derek took me out one day and we ran into Sierra. I can never lie to her, so I told her how I felt about him at the time.”

"You still feel that way? Honestly."

"I don't know. Let's talk about something else. Please.”

Simone could sense that she was lying, but she didn't know whether to press further.

"I didn't mean to make it tense in here." Sierra clears up.

"Yeah, I know." Jada stands up and heads out on the balcony, Simone quickly walking after her.

"Jada, what's going on?" She turns around and unties the curtains, letting them cover the door.

"I'm not trying to make this day about me, man. We can talk about this, later.”

"I'm just trying to understand why you never ran this by me? You don't have to, but I figured that you would. I'm your best friend, Jada. What, you thought I was gonna judge you or something?"

"I don't know, maybe!"

"Why would I do that? I encouraged you to say something to him, in the first place! I would've loved to hear about you being in love."

They both frown.

"I'm sorry.”

"Don't be. I just wanna be in the know, next time."

"You will be. I promise."

They turn towards the golden railing and gaze at the orange sun that's slowly coming up.

"How long ago was this? I'm just wondering."

"Back in September. I had just got back from vacation and he took me out to dinner. It was then, that I realized that I may have liked him... a little more than I had originally planned to." Jada explains with a laugh.

"I knew it.” Simone bumps her shoulder, "the chemistry is undeniable. You can front all you want, but I always knew it."

"Okay, do you want a cookie?" Jada playfully rolls her eyes.

"If your sister wasn't getting married, I'd push you over this balcony." Jada's mouth drops open.

"You'd kill me??"

"Of course, not…so, I got another question."

"Ugh. I already know what you're gonna ask and yes... I'm still in love with him.”

"Is that why you're keeping him at a distance?”

Jada shamefully nods.

"We talked about it. I couldn't avoid him for too long, so I told him about this not being a part of our situation, and that I'm seriously not ready for that."

"That's a lot for you, I know,” she rubs Jada's back, "sorry I acted like that. You're not obligated to share any of this with me.”

"I'm not, but it wouldn't be any fun if I kept it to myself!" They share a laugh.

"I just want it to be when I'm ready to tell you. Some things I try and keep to myself. It's nothing personal."

"I'm not offended, boo. I understand."

Since she'd been keeping something to herself for quite a while.

˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.̑ෆ₊̣̇˟̑ෆ

Watching Jasmine, basically, float down the aisle was definitely a sight for everyone who laid their eyes on her.

"God, she's beautiful." Simone says as she wipes away her seventh batch of tears.

"Isn't she?!" Jada adds, wiping her own tears away.

Jada, Simone, Sierra, Fiona and three more of Jasmine's favorite cousins stand to the left, in their handmade mustard colored dresses, as she finally makes her way up the crisp periwinkle steps.

Her soon-to-be husband, Jason, just about breaks down as he pulls her veil away from her face, taking in her natural beauty.

If it was one thing Jasmine hated, it was makeup.

Her skin was flawless and she didn't feel the need to add anything extra to it, besides a little highlight that Fiona practically threatened her life with.

"You look so beautiful." Their lips meet for a sweet kiss, before they turn towards their family and friends with their fingers intertwined.

The beloved pastor from their mother's childhood, Reid, was ecstatic when he was chosen to marry her oldest child and the love of her life.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to unite Jasmine Woods and Jason Tyler in holy matrimony. If anyone has any objections as to why these two should not be lawfully joined together, speak now or forever hold your peace."

The entire congregation silences, giving room for laughter, shortly after.

"Alright, alright. Let's do the vows." Reid looks over his glasses at Jason, "you first, son."

Jason blows out a breath and locks his eyes with her gleaming, green ones.

"I'm so lucky. I've never cried this much, in my entire life.," he laughs as she squeezes his hands. "We met back in college and I'll admit that I definitely couldn't handle all the woman that you are, back then. You'd shoot me down. Give me the cold shoulder. You bruised my ego, baby girl--but, I needed that. It humbled me. It made me find my common sense, because my mama always told me, no good woman is gonna wait around for someone to be good for her. And, she was right. You slipped out of my grasp and I had to prove myself worthy, if it was the last thing I did. I fell in love with you, that day we went to Carowinds, back in 2016. It was right after your family reunion. We'd taken a trip down to North Carolina and decided to make a stop, cause you kept reminding me that you hadn't been there since you were a kid. We probably went on every ride they had to offer. I remember we were sitting on the bench and you were gushing about how much fun you had..." his voice cracks, "it was then that I knew that I wanted to keep that smile on your face, every day that God allowed me to. I love you so much, Jasmine." He kisses her forehead.

A couple of awe's and an abundance of sniffles carry throughout the building. Jasmine turns towards the pastor and whispers, "I have to follow that?!"

Laughter rings out, again. Jason swings their linked fingers back and forth, whispering an encouraging “you got this, babe."

"Okay, okay... where do I even start? We've been at this since we were teenagers. I've spent a good majority of my twenties with you and I don't regret a single moment, I swear. It may sound selfish, but you're the only boyfriend that I count–- they just can't compare, I'm sorry!" She turns towards her family, who wholeheartedly agrees.

"You never put me through any pain or trauma and for that, I'm forever indebted to you. I love you more than any word could ever describe. It hurts my chest, when I think about it. I'm safe with you. You're safe with me. I'm so glad that I get to spend the rest of my life with you, cause it wouldn't be this much fun with anybody else. We've seen so much together," she giggles to herself, "I guess you really are the Aladdin to my Jasmine."

"Oh, brother." Jada nudges Simone.

"Shh!" Fiona pinches Jada.

"Beautiful, beautiful. I need the rings." Jason's brother, Jordan, hands over the rings. Reid places them in Jason and Jasmine's hands.

"Do you, Jason, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, in good times and in woe, for rich or poor, keeping yourself unto her for as long as you both shall live?"

"I do." He answers, without hesitation, sliding the gold band onto her finger.

"Do you, Jasmine, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, in good times and woe, for rich or poor, keeping yourself unto him for as long as you both shall live?"

"I do." She slides the gold band onto his finger.

"By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride, son."

Cupping her face into his hands, he captures her lips in a kiss that makes everyone blush and loudly cheer.

˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇ෆ.₊̣̇.̑ෆ₊̣̇˟̑ෆ

The inside of Whitehead Manor was the best place for a reception. From the golden drapes hung from the ceiling to the tea lights and white roses used for centerpieces.

The simplicity of it all is just so beautiful.

Simone's on her third glass of champagne, when a tall figure looms over her.

She quickly turns her head, finding Anthony in an all black suit with a yellow handkerchief in the pocket, almost the same color as her dress.

"Hey, gorgeous."

"Took you long enough,” she grabs her half empty glass off the cherrywood island and walks away.

He chuckles and strides after her, his eyes glued to her ass with every step she takes.

@ghostfacekill-monger @honestpreference @sheabuttahwrites @thegifstories @blackerthings @planetblaque @twistedcharismaaa @mauvecherie-writes @abeautifulmindexposed @tchallasbabymama @starcrossedxwriter @cecereads209

Lmk if you wanna be added to the tag list! 💜

[andkisses]

prompt: “I’m a jeweler and you always come in to buy stuff so I assume you have you have a significant other and don’t hit on you, but it turns out you’re just really nice to your mom” au

taehyun x gn!reader | wc. 570

genres/tropes: fluff, college!au but also not really, only if you squint

mentions of/warnings: none

“Act fast—it’s your favorite customer.”

The lilt on your friend's voice tells you who it is before the door swings open and the bells over send a gentle chime throughout the store.  Working in a jewelry shop during the semester to earn a little extra cash initially felt too boring.  Selling jewelry all day to stuck up rich people? Bleh.

But on your first day, just before you got off your shift, you saw him.  Taehyun.  Tall, handsome like a prince, it was as if one of your childhood fairytales had come to life and manifested itself into the history TA in front of you.

“Hey, [Y/N]!” Taehyun calls over the simple music playing throughout the store.  Outside, the mall is buzzing with students from the local university.

The first week, you’d developed a crush on Taehyun—who wouldn’t?  Day one of your second week, however, you found out Taehyun was always coming in to buy something for a “special lady” in his life.  Even though you barely knew him at this point, what could you do about it?  All the good ones were taken, anyway, so why was this shocking?

A month has passed since then, and Taehyun comes in almost weekly to buy a small necklace or bracelet charm.  He always makes conversation with you, having found out you attend the same university, but since you’re different grades and majors, you haven’t seen each other.  One day, he told you he worked at a cafe near campus and that you should stop by one time so he could return the favor—you helped him find the perfect jewelry, so he’ll help you find the perfect coffee or tea.

At first, helping him hurt.  Why couldn’t he be buying the jewelry for you?  But over time, you realized you just enjoyed Taehyun’s company more than anything.

“Hi, Taehyun!” you call back, offering a gentle wave.  You hear your coworker scoff, and watch as her form disappears into the stock room, leaving you and Taehyun alone.  “What are you looking for today?”

“Something different,” Taehyun sighs.  “It’s for someone different this time, but I don’t know much about their tastes.”

“Someone different?  Did something happen?”  The words fall from your lips before you can even think about them, let alone process the consequences of actually saying them.

Instead of being shocked at your nosiness, Taehyun simply laughs.  “No, it’s nothing,” he assures.  “My mom’s doing fine, but she wants me to branch out in who I give gifts to.  And since there’s someone I like...”

Wait.

“Your… mom?”  You grip onto the edge of the counter, leaning forward to prevent from swaying and hitting the ground all together.  “You mean, all the things you’ve bought, they’ve been—”

“For my mom!”  The smile on Taehyun’s face is brilliant, warmer and more charming than the sun itself.  Inside, your brain is scrambling to process what he’s told you.  His mom, not some young person he was dating, but his own mother, getting all those cute little gifts as opposed to a d—

Wait.

Did he say—

“Someone you like?”

Taehyun laughs again.  “Yes!  I know, it feels weird even for me to say, and I’m the one with the crush.”  Now, he’s standing in front of you, mirroring your stance on the counter, leaning in closer.  “I think you might know them, so would you like to help me choose something for them?”

[customizedstore]

My Favorite People Call Me Custom Personalized Gift, Gift For Christmas, Gift for Teacher

[troxlerfx]

hello!! i am troxler (trox if you're nasty) and you might know me from my xwitter @ broadcastrelay or my old experimental art blog @hand-in-hand-again .

this blog is sfw. i have a more reblog-heavy nsfw sideblog, @heartshapedsignal , where i can place aesthetics, rb art that i like, Cronenbergpost & generally toss up more intense horror things & keep this one somewhat more tidy + personal-art-oriented. follow my alt if you please; although it's unlikely i'll ever post anything too explicit, there is nsfw/🔞 potential, so again, heartshapedsignal is 🔞 just to be safe!!

i have a throne account here if you'd like to support my work by helping with supplies & thereby earn my eternal gratitude:

commissions are currently closed & i will update here & on xwitter if that changes!!

i do have discord if you'd like to chat, you can DM me for my username. i'm vision impaired & it's a little easier for me than tumblr DMs (scalable font. properly mapped keyboard that allows me to hit the right keys occasionally. you know 👁️)

i am sometimes slow to respond to messages, but i don't expect you to be available all the time either--i answer things when i have a moment, & i assume others do too ✌️ i have the temperament of a displaced 11th century anchorite, am simply not adapted to the tone & pace of centralized social media.

i also unfortunately cannot voice call or stream/screen share because i am a millennial (just kidding, it's because my phone is almost 9 years old & it overheats when i check my e-mail)

learn a bit more about me under the cut ✂️

i was dropped into this simulation in the early 80s, i'm a disabled artist (vision impaired - [ask me about my atrophied optic nerves] - & have some other physical Issues so i use a cane) & my wife and i host two black cats, roughly 35% of a mannequin, and a whole lot of dolls.

all my art is trad/physical media (haven't figured out a way to make digital art accessible yet. maybe someday!!) i like to sculpt in epoxy, plastilene, polymer & stone clay, i like to mold & cast in resin, make & customize various types of dolls, & build puppets; i do custom framed work, mixed media & textile stuff like sewing & embroidery; i paint in oil, acrylic, watercolor, gouache & water soluble graphite & i love ink, markers, crayons & whatever cheap & weird stuff i can get my hands on.

i have a particular affection for props, prop replicas & hypothetical in-universe items, & i like things that are handsome, durable & believable. i'm versatile & innovative, & i'm at my happiest when i'm exploring technical processes. i have quite a bit of knowledge about techniques & materials. i love a challenge!! currently all my sewing is done by hand, i have trouble controlling pedal-operated machines.

my favorite thing is horror coated in a fine layer of nostalgia & sprinkled with history. that seems highly specific, but you'd be surprised how many things fit the criteria. i tend to fixate on characters & concepts & do a lot of art about it - a habit i developed while i was re-teaching myself to draw after the changes to my eyesight. my output is largely therapeutic. sometimes people like it. maybe you will too!!

a good amount of my work is fanart & will be tagged as such/otherwise linked to the appropriate project, original work will be specified & have its own tag.

at the moment i make a lot of work related to the independent psychological horror unfiction project Welcome Home, created by ' partycoffin ' here on tumblr.

that's all for now!! 👁️‍🗨️📺

[thru-the-grapevine]

Holiday Rush

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x reader

Summary: Your favorite regular has one hell of a way of saying Merry Christmas (and getting your attention).

Word Count: 2.4k

Tags: coffee shop au, sugar daddy-adjacent au, fluff

You’ve had less eventful Christmas Eve mornings, to be sure. Especially 4:30 AMs on Christmas Eve mornings. For starters, you were asleep like a normal person on all the other ones. For another, you weren’t usually bailed on out of nowhere by your manager due to “a family emergency”, leaving you in charge of the entire store. Nor were you typically bailed on by two other workers, both of whom had a “sudden onset illness”, leaving you with only three people other than you to cover everything the inevitable last-minute holiday-shopping horde would throw at you.

By the time you’ve got things in some semblance of order and preparation for opening, there’s already a car idling in the drive thru, and there’s a slight ache in your left temple.

“Siobhan, you’re on mobile bar,” you order. “Luke, drive bar. You’ll both have to do your own cold bar since Geo and Kennedy flaked. I need Phoenix on customer support and food. I’m gonna attempt solo drive for the first couple hours, and if it gets nuts I’ll pull one of you in to assist. If it gets slow in your area, work on putting away the order. I may have to turn off mobile if it comes to it, but that’ll piss people off, so let’s try to keep up.”

You slip your headset on, watch the digital clock on the order screen turn from 4:59 to 5:00, then click the button. “Good morning, welcome to Starbucks. What can I get started for you this morning?”

“Morning, Chief. Didn’t think you’d be here today. Happy Christmas Eve.”

A little of the tension in your head relaxes, and you smile, tapping away at the order screen. “Ah, Gyu. You’re early. Happy Christmas Eve. Usual?”

“Sounds perfect, thanks.”

“Come on around,” you say, not caring if you sound a little flirty.

Your store has its regulars, and he is by far your favorite. He comes in nearly every day, orders the same thing (grande caramel macchiato, extra shot, for “Gyu”), makes friendly conversation, and leaves a tip three times the price of his drink. Without fail. You’ve never figured out what it is he does for a living, but given the immaculate cars (yes, plural) you’ve seen him drive through in, it probably pays really well.

The whole staff loves him. Some of the bolder ones flirt with him just to fluster him, but they know if you’re on the floor to let you hand him the drink. For reasons beyond your comprehension, he seems to have a soft spot for you. He mistook you for the manager when he first stopped into the cafe, and he’s called you different in-charge nicknames since then—“chief”, “captain”, “commander”. It’s probably giving you an authority complex. You don’t care. The confidence boost his interest in you has given over the past year has gifted you a boldness that he doesn’t seem to mind.

“Must be Gyu already,” Siobhan remarks when she sees you surreptitiously smoothing your hair.

You flip her off as the hood of a familiar black BMW comes into view.

“Kinda early for Christmas Eve,” you say by way of greeting as the car window pulls level with yours.

God, he’s gorgeous, smiling up at you, all bundled up in his expensive-looking wool coat and black turtleneck.

“Could say the same for you,” he says. “Don’t they ever give you a break around here?”

Your smile turns wry, and you sigh lightly. “They’d perish without me, I think.”

“I’ll drink to that,” he says, grimacing lightly in sympathy. “Hopefully not here all day, right? Got plans for the holiday?”

“Just here ‘til noon, then going an hour north to my family’s for a couple days,” you tell him, grabbing the scanner. “Want me to cash you out?”

“Ah. About that.”

You watch him reach into the passenger seat, grabbing something the size of a woman’s clutch, then extends it to you.

You set the scanner down and go to take it, then freeze, blinking.

“Uh. Gyu.”

“Yes?”

“What is that?”

“...Money?”

“I mean. I. Yeah, like. Is it…real?”

“Yes?”

“That’s…way more than your drink.”

“Yes.”

“Like. Are those all twenties?”

“Yes.”

“...I only need a fourth of a single one of those.”

“I know. Take them all.”

You don’t understand. “I—wh…”

He grins. “I feel like being Saint Nick today. I’m paying it forward for the next customers.”

Holy shit. “The next…thousand customers?”

“Hardly. Probably half that. But you don’t know how many big orders there will be, it could be less than that, too.”

“Sir.” Your head is spinning, hand still frozen inches away from the stack of bills that looks honest-to-god like out of the mafia movies. “Sir. That’s…”

You don’t even know how to finish that sentence. That’s not necessary? Your manager would kill you if she found out you refused generosity. That’s ridiculous? It might be, but you don’t want to tell this man that, not when he’s been so wonderful to you.

“I’m not even sure I’m allowed to take this,” you say.

He shrugs. “It’s all twenties, not fifties or hundreds. You can mark them all with a counterfeit pen if it helps. Call your manager if you need, I can talk to her. If you need to call the cops, even, you can. C’mon, I’ve been planning on this for ages. Let me do this.”

The thing is…he’s allowed to do this. You suppose. Technically. You huff a single, breathless laugh, incredulous.

“You…are fucking insane,” you breathe, grinning, not caring how in awe you sound.

His smile turns flustered, and he laughs a little. “If it doesn’t all get used today, put the rest in the tips.”

He’s finally done it. He’s finally rendered you speechless. You can feel your mouth hanging open, not sure what you’re supposed to say. Not sure what you can say.

Gingerly, like it’s alive, you take the stack of bills he’s offering.

“Dude,” you say, laughing again. Absurd. “Dude. Are you…?”

“Completely sure,” he says, eyes warm. “Merry Christmas to your customers. And your staff. And you.”

“Grande caramel macchiato, extra shot,” Luke says behind you, sliding you the cup.

You linger a moment longer, holding eye contact, before ducking back in the window and setting the cash next to the register, swapping it for the drink.

“Holy shit,” you say, laughing as you hand him the drink. “Have a merry fucking Christmas, Gyu.”

“Aye-aye, Captain,” he says, grinning, and then he winks at you.

Your insides light up like a Christmas tree. You indulge for a second and stare after his car as he drives off. God. What?

This Christmas Eve is about to be the most fascinating yet.

You have to get Phoenix on headset to take the next drive-thru order so you have time to count out the bills and cash out the order properly. You feel lightheaded after counting the first several hundred, possibly a little ill by the time you total it out. Three thousand.

“Holy fuck,” you mutter under your breath, laughing as you punch in the frankly ludicrous number. That’s half of what the store makes on a slow day. Granted, today will not be a slow day–you can already see more cars filing into the parking lot–but that money covers a chunk of business.

All morning, you have the absolute joy of watching people come up to the window, ready to pay, and telling them “actually, your order’s been covered by someone further up in line”. The looks of surprise, the occasional relief, and the smiles don’t get old or lose their shine. A couple of people get emotional, and you can’t blame them. You feel your own throat tighten when some of the customers insist on paying for the person behind them.

“Someone spotted me, let me spot someone, too,” one lady puts it, paying twice what she would have paid originally to cover the vanload behind her. “Why not? It’s Christmas.”

“Crazy what a little generosity inspires in people,” Phoenix comments as the lady drives away.

You can’t say you disagree, but there’s only one man in mind when you think it.

Luke points out that the more people keep paying it forward, the less that initial amount goes down, and the more of it that gets allotted to tips. You outright refuse to think about it. I can’t take that. There’s no way. I’ll have to give him money back, that’s just…

Even by the time you switch off of drive with Siobhan, about 75% of customers insist on continuing to pay it forward, keeping the dizzying remaining amount from Gyu fairly steady. Siobhan is far less willing to do the mental work of paying it forward and eventually asks whether it can’t just be cashed out to the tip fund.

“He probably wanted to leave most of it as tips, anyway,” she says, raising an eyebrow at you. “He’s got a track record, plus he likes you.”

You feel your face grow hot. “He does not.”

Siobhan rolls her eyes. “Whatever, live in denial. Can I put this in the tip fund?”

“...Fine.”

For the last hour of your shift, you concentrate on calculating tips. Even divided amongst all the store employees and adjusted for the amount of hours each person worked, everyone ends up with over a hundred in tips total. You end up with nearly twice that, after the hours you’ve done. Crazy. Absolutely unreal. You’re already thinking of the last couple gifts you were hoping you could afford to spring for for family and friends. Easily done now, with this tip money.

“Tips are in the safe,” you tell your coworkers as you zip up your coat and make for the door. “Everyone say Merry fucking Christmas, Gyu.”

You grin as you hear a chorus of “Merry fucking Christmas, Gyu!” behind you as you step out into the cold.

You’re halfway across the parking lot to your car when you notice a black BMW. You wander to a stop, hesitant, as the car pulls even with you in the nearest parking spot and the door opens.

“Did you need more coffee?” You ask, biting your lip as he steps out.

Gyu closes his car door and shakes his head, grinning. “Already got my fix today, I’m good.”

“Shame,” you say, fighting a smile, “because I happen to know that if you went through the drive-thru right now, your order would already be covered.”

He leans back against his car and raises his eyebrows. “It lasted this long? You’d think there’d be more business than that today.”

“Everyone else kept insisting on paying it forward, too,” you say, shaking your head in awe. “What did you start?”

“Well, you certainly deserve it,” he says, and the way his smile softens makes your stomach flutter. “Hopefully it’ll end up as tips, if people keep paying it forward?”

“It’s too much,” you tell him, trying to be as firm as possible. “Far too much. I really can’t accept that.”

“It’s a gift,” he insists. “For how long you’ve been subjected to my patronage.”

“Everyone loves you in the store, they always have,” you argue.

He looks at you intently. “Everyone?”

You feel your face grow hot again. “...Yes. Everyone.”

You push through the way you want to be flustered as he grins. “But that’s what I’m saying. You’re hardly a difficult customer. It was too much.”

“You know,” he says, “it’s possible I just want to spoil you.”

You open your mouth, then snap it shut, then open it again. Holy shit, he’s made you speechless again. Twice in the same day.

“You don’t even know me,” you argue weakly.

He gives you a Look. “I’ve talked to you nearly every day for around a year. I know lots of things about you. Like your cats. Your family, mainly your sister. The saga of your car. Things you like to read and watch. Some of the jokes you find funny. And you know a lot of the same things about me.”

“I don’t even know if Gyu is your real name!” You burst out.

He frowns. “It is, mostly. It’s short for Mingyu. Kim Mingyu. You’ve seen it on the receipts.”

You haven’t, but you believe him. You try out the name. “Mingyu.”

A corner of his mouth curls into a smile. He puts his hands in his coat pockets. “Tell me that hasn’t been your only hangup this whole time.”

“I-I mean…” you stammer. “N-no? I mean, it’s been one thing, but like…you’re, like. Um. You seem very…successful, and I’m…”

He frowns. “You’re successful, too. I—wait. Is this…is it money?”

“I guess I’m just…embarrassed,” you say, feeling your face burn in shame. “Maybe my pride’s too big, I dunno.”

“Hey, I don’t want you to think this is some weird, fetish-y charity case thing I have, or that I think you can be, like, bought or something,” he says, looking serious. “If you really can’t accept the money, I won’t stop you from giving it back.”

He sighs, teeth worrying his lower lip. “I just…I like you. I always have. You seem to be the only person who doesn’t realize it, or maybe I’m the idiot who can’t take a hint, but—”

“Mingyu—”

“But I really do,” he continues doggedly. “I think you work hard, but you’re so kind. You do good work so that you can be kind, so you can give people more than just something to eat or drink, and that’s just…it’s really—”

“I could kiss you right now for that,” you say, then slap a hand over your mouth. Dude??

Mingyu blinks, then laughs. “At least let me take you to dinner first.”

You wish you could sink into the pavement, even as your heart gives a silly little leap. He wants to take me to dinner. “I…I’m…”

“I know it’s Christmas Eve and you’ve got places to be,” he says, and you wonder if he looks a little nervous. “But I really would like to see you. Outside of work. Would you let me take you out sometime?”

You stand there for a moment in stupefied silence. Holy shit, this has to be a dream. A man like Kim Mingyu doesn’t just…give your workplace thousands of dollars to tip you and then ask you to dinner. What in the name of Wattpad...

“I…you’re fucking insane,” you laugh, breathless.

He looks like he doesn’t know how to take this, and before you can talk yourself out of it you find yourself saying, “I’m, uh, I’m free on New Years?”

A slow grin spreads over his face. “Yeah? Funny enough, so am I.”

Definitely the strangest Christmas Eve you’ve ever had. But it may also be your new favorite.

[geniemillies]

Yearning For Spring | Ch. 6 | Tamlin x Oc

— Chapter 6 - A Glimse of Living

A/n: Very very long chappy.. I enjoyed writing Autumn and Summer, favourite courts right next to Spring 😔🫶

<<Ch.1 <<Ch.5 ___ Ch.7>>

     — —

I often feed a suggestion to the King, to send me back to Prythian to see to Amarantha's reign. And when he'd ask me why I'm so insistent on going I'd answer with; “I rather like tormenting her~” Which is no lie and definitely no secret. The entirety of the Father's court knows well mine and Amarantha's animosity towards each other. And it isn't just me. I cannot think of a single person in court who likes her. She is feared by many and loved by none save for the creatures that manage to find it in themselves to find her appealing.

Four decades have passed since the dawn of her reign and when I thought all hope was lost, Father called me into the throne room and suddenly approved of my next visit to Prythian. The Suriel fettered beneath the palace was yet again the source of his ire, but it seems to have provided some sort of answer to which my father was being deliberately vague when giving his commands. He needs me to seek out the missing pieces of the Cauldron after I see Amarantha. And I couldn't have been more excited when he gave me the task. In secret, of course. I did not get to see past Under the Mountain last time.. I'm hoping this time will be different.

Besides that visit, I haven't left Hybern since that time in Spring. More often than not, these golden cuffs around my wrists constantly itched, tempting me to scratch the skin raw.. I cannot even touch the beach waters without the cuffs tugging me back. It is a cage, this homeland of mine. And while I want to visit Prythian because I want to berate Amarantha and know about how Tamlin is doing I just want to see the sky and breathe the fresh air.

“May I come with?” Velaria asks as she follows me through the halls of the Lighthouse.

“The ring only allows leave for one body. I'm afraid I cannot take you with me.. Father will know if those bound to him leave and enter without the gem.”

Velaria frowns and before she speaks, some of the children playing caught sight of me and rushed towards my direction. “Mother!” They all called out as they came to me. Recent children who quickly became infected with calling me their mother. Not that I mind.

They told me of their day and wished for me to play with them. But I had places to be so I promised to spend time with them when I returned. I went to a drawing room where children, mostly the children I've rescued from Prythian, were huddled in one place. Each child hails from a different Court, with Marilla and Celyn originating from Winter, and Aurelia, Clem, and Rory from Autumn. Soleil and Tesni are from Summer, while Ahaan and Kiran belongs to the Dawn Court. And then there's the only child from Day, the youngest of Prythian children, Uri. 

Save for Uri, they all still call me Niamh or Miss Niamh. Understandable as they are not my children like Hybernian children were. They have their own mothers and fathers waiting for them most likely.

The Lighthouse has come to life since I brought the Prythian children here. Each room within the building has been adorned with their vibrant gifts and decorations, inspired by the diverse cultures and customs of their respective Courts. 

Because of them, our home now hosts various joyful celebrations like Summer and Winter Solstice where we decorate the house, dance and exchange gifts. Those are my personal favorites.. But we also celebrate All Souls Day, a custom from Autumn where people make offerings to shrines of the deceased in the forest. But we do not have a forest of shrines so we just.. create our own and set them out at the courtyard, in remembrance of loved ones who perished during Amarantha's rule. Because the majority, if not all the children, have endured losses during her reign. 

We also have Fete in the Clouds, a cheerful celebration from the Dawn Court where peregryns, hold festivities high in the air. While I possess wings like peregryns, none of the other children have the blessing of flight except for Kiran, a peregryn, and Tesni, a mothkin. So to make sure he celebrates and shares his custom with the house, I cast imaginative spells to create the illusion of us lounging on the clouds above the courtyard. A.. cute attempt to recreate the actual thing but we have fun. 

Another one is the Seeker's Gauntlet, a triennial tournament held in the Day Court where scholars from various esteemed institutions compete in a grand stadium, I've been told. During this time, we make up our own challenges and divide the house in teams until the smartest ones face each other in the final rounds. I, unfortunately.. have been kicked out of the games because the children do not trust me with my daemati powers. No matter, I'm content as the sole judge and arbiter. Velaria gets particularly competitive during the games. Seeing her losing to a bunch of children way younger than her is.. funny.

I happily welcome all festivities. It isn't the same as celebrating the actual thing, but it is the most I can do for them. I want the Prythian children to cling on to cherished memories of their homes even when distance separates them. They deserve to feel a sense of belonging and connection to their roots, to celebrate their heritage and keep their cultures alive, no matter where they may be. And.. it's a good thing for the children of Hybern too. And maybe for me.. After all, Hybernians deserve to experience such celebrations, given the lack of them within our own lands.

I should probably refrain from calling them children now as they’re all grown. It has been nearly fifty years since I’ve brought them here. Marilla is a great sister to everyone in the house, she even teaches the younger children with their writing and reading. Cousin to her is Celyn, the quieter one of the two. But in time, she grew to love the place and the other kids. She also makes the best puddings that not even I could replicate her cooking.. Aurelia is the more spirited one of the bunch, always cheering people up, always inspiring mischief, as expected from a faun. Soleil, a selkie, likes to join her in her little pranks. We have a pond now because of her as she needs to be in water every once in a while. Tesni is our sweet little mothkin, which makes her a target to group cuddles because of her furry scales. She has woven me many silk dresses ever since I’ve asked her for one. Kiran is the most well-mannered, often being the voice of reason along with Marilla. Then there is Ahaan who is a child of the arts, I lost count of the many paintings and ceramics he’s made for me. My room and study are so full of them that I'm beginning to run out of space. Always with him is Clem, a sweet child with a penchant for learning, forever curious about the Sidhe where I’ve not yet taken any of them.

Uri, the youngest, is the quietest one, always making gadgets with whatever she finds. Many of my kitchen supplies have been altered to work better because of her. Uri is the only one of them who has developed a habit of calling me mother. I’ve been told that her parents were long gone even before Amarantha took over. During the first months of their stay in Hybern, she had managed to run past the wards and nearly got herself killed if I hadn’t caught up to her. She’s a sensitive child, a bit jumpy and a victim to night terrors, more so than the others.. She may be quiet but she always seeks comfort with the other Prythian children, clinging to Aurelia’s arm or hiding behind Ahaan’s wings. Despite being the youngest, Uri’s intelligence is unwavering, earning her an undefeated record in our version of the Seeker's Gauntlet. It comes as no surprise from a child of Day.

Then there is Rory, a year younger than Marilla but the eldest of the Autumn-born, hails from nobility. Of all the children, he was the most hesitant to call the Lighthouse home. Of course, he warmed up to the place and the other children eventually but he still keeps to himself most of the time. Always reading in his lonesome and observing the fun rather than participating. But I could tell that.. it is just his nature. I imagine he was raised to look down on the lesser fae which.. must’ve been a strange thing to accept for him, considering most of the children in the Lighthouse are.. lesser fae. I mislike that term. Lesser. All my children are the same, no matter their upbringing or the lands they hail from.

While he may not overtly acknowledge it, I know Rory has developed a softer sentiment towards the others. He does not like admitting a lot of things, but he is not good at hiding them either. Not from me. But of course, there is the occasional fight here and there between him and the older children of the house. Squabble between boys that are ended by me all too quickly.

Nowadays, Clem, Rory, Kiran and Soleil are often outside, past the Lighthouse grounds but still within the wards, being trained to fight by Arin after they begged me to. Arin is one of the elder children of the Lighthouse that don't live here anymore. But he still frequently visits before returning back underground, to the Sidhe, where he's one of my three Lieutenants tending to the rebellion.

Many of my older children join him at the Sidhe. My brave children who.. wish to fight for me for a better tomorrow. Now some children of Prythian wish to join them. Velaria may or may not have let some of my Father's plans slip from her loose mouth, and the elder children have grown close to them that they tell the horrors of my Father's experiments on me. Because they do know. Children are not stupid. The Lighthouse is the one place where I could momentarily let go of my gloves. They see my blackened arms and they often.. wonder. So now some of them wish to fight and while their training is not serious… I can see their determination, fueled by a desire for vengeance against Amarantha. But there is a greater threat than her. And I'm not about to risk these children in an upcoming war when they have parents still waiting for them back in Prythian. 

They flock around me now, asking: “Can you see if my parents are still alive? Can you see if my siblings still live under the dungeons? Can you see if my High Lord still lives? Can you see if my Court has not been set to cinders? Can you kill Amarantha this time?” All questions overlap each other.

“Settle down. All of you..” I shook my head and willed them to call down. All of them ask for me to check on the wellbeing of their families while others ask for items to be brought back to them, items from their courts they hold dear. When one proposed the idea, everyone agreed and brought forth a scroll to write the things they wish for. Impatiently, they sit there on the floor, fighting for which one got to put on their requests first.

I look at Velaria. “And you? Anything you wish for?”

She put a hand on her hip. “I'd rather come with you.”

“I told you..”

“But I'm not bound to the King. I do not wear golden cuffs, I can leave without him knowing. Please.. Take me with you. I want to see Rhys.. If only for a moment.”

I look away to the children before looking back at her. “Alright. But I need to hide you. Into what.. is the question. Just until I'm done with my visit in the Middle.”

“You could glamour me. Alter my appearance as you've had before when you brought me to the palace.”

“I can't. Amarantha will suspect my relation to you and why I've brought you. I don’t just bring anyone, she knows it. I cannot risk it. And chances are, if you do see your brother while glamoured, he would suspect you're familiar to him..”

Velaria looked down. “The silver ravens..” 

“The what..?” 

“You could turn your feathers into full creatures, could you not?” 

“Yes?”

“Could you turn me into an animal?”

“I am flattered you think I could shapeshift much less shift someone else into an animal.”

“But you could turn your feathers into crows?”

“Yes but my feathers are inanimate. That magic has always been a part of me. Seraphim magic. And the creatures I create are an extension of myself. And do not even suggest using dark magic on you.” I sighed. “I only know curses and hexes that serve to discipline those who would disobey in court.” I trailed off and looked at her, a pout growing on her lips.

“Unless..” I sighed. “Do you really want to go?”

Velaria nods. “Really.”

“There is a curse I learned many years ago in my youth. Magic that will curse someone and turn them into an animal for life. But.. after years of studying, I've learned to undo many curses. And since the hex is a simple enough trick, I could very well undo it.”

She claps happily, tapping her chest excitedly. “Great. Do it. Curse me. But undo it after!” Velaria says a little too enthusiastically. Many would run when a witch suggest to bewitch them. Velaria seems to jump at every opportunity for me to show her weird spells, though. She is a strange one. 

“Alright.” I breathed. “What animal?”

“What?”

“What animal would you want to turn into?”

     — —

The Attor welcomes me again to the dreadful Under The Mountain and with its presence, the creature around my neck hissed. Amarantha greets me in her empty throne room and we exchange backhanded jabs at one another. The usual. It is clear that my visit is unwelcome, the place is once more void of any soul save for the Attor who keeps breathing down my neck. Amarantha thought to give me a tour around her little hive and wherever we went, dread and anguish followed.

This time she shows me the entirety of her horrid abode with all its rugged twists and turns. She showed me the dungeons where she kept prisoners and heathens who dared disobey her or make her unhappy. She showed me an even deeper dungeon where she kept fae, young and old, all kept in shackles as they cooked and served and.. slaved away, never to see the sun or breathe the air on the surface. 

She took me to a grim display, where the bodies of fae she claimed as rebels hung on the wall, their bodies bearing the evidence of dried blood and decay, with clouds of buzzing flies swarming around their putrid remains, feasting on the stench of death. Despite the gruesome sight, it barely made me flinch. I had grown accustomed to the same macabre spectacle back at Father's palace.

“Again with the choice of furniture, Amarantha..” I cover my nose and hear a chuckle from her beside me.

“Do you not like it? I thought you'd feel right at home..”

I hate it. I hate how she's turning into a smaller version of my Father. Even here I cannot escape him. They cannot enslave mortals and so they turn to enslaving their kin. 

Before we left from the dungeons she takes pride in, I paused, taking a final glance at the faces of the dead. I studied each pair of their horrifically opened eyes, every feature, searching diligently for any resemblance to the children I once brought here to the Lighthouse.

“What did this one do?” I approach a fae, her wide eyes stared vacantly, locked in an image of fear that remained even in death. Her once vibrant, auburn curls were crudely hacked off and burned, her arms stretched unnaturally towards another faun like herself. A male one.

Just like..

“Hm? Ah. Foolish little doe. Tried to stab me in the back during my entertainments. I wiped out her entire family, you see.” A cruel chuckle escapes her. “I hadn’t even noticed. Only she and her husband remained. And now they'll be together forever. A beautiful death I've bestowed upon them, wouldn't you agree..?"

“How frequent are these attempts?” I try turn my head away, but underneath the mask, my eyes were still glued to the pair, memorising their features, ingraining it into memory. The skin around my cuffs began to itch, aching to tear Amarantha to pieces.

I look at those bodies and see my children. I see Aurelia. I see her eyes in that female's face, pretty and blue and filled with joy.

They are her parents. There is no doubt.

“These bodies have been rotting for over a year now. I should really have them cleaned off the wall.. But I relish in the faces that pass by. Makes people remember their place. But I shouldn’t bore you with my executions. I'm sure you've had your fair share of that back at home already.”

“Father's rule is ever so peaceful. The people are behaved. Unlike yours. Hardly surprised that you have to result to such extremes just for a shrivel of respect.” I passed her, walking away from the dungeon I no longer wanted to see.

I felt the snake around my neck slither slowly, its hiss soft and and quiet beneath my chin. ‘I want to mount her on that wall.’ I hear her little mind say. ‘Niamh, those were..”

‘I know.’

‘Will you tell Aurelia?’

It’ll break her heart. Aside from Uri, every one of those Prythian children still hope that they could be reunited with their families, whomever remains still. They still hold on to that hope that someone, anyone, or just one in their family might still be alive. 

Knowing the horrors her parents were subjected to in her absence will break her. It’d break anyone but..

‘I'll have to.’

     — —

I was careful to put on gloves today. One touch on a servant or prisoner or even the walls then I might live their pain. After our tour, Amarantha kept me in her little receiving room, with the Attor beside me, watching my every move. We talked about Hybern and the troops she left behind, how I graciously became their beacon of leadership in her absence and how they like me better. All the things that I thought might prick a nerve. And I was right.

“How goes the ruling bit of your vacation?” I ask, my eyes to the balcony that revealed the sky void of clouds.

“If his Majesty is getting impatient he can suck it up and wait. I'm not done here yet.” She hissed, the eye in her ring twitching. 

“What of the lordling you're trying to court, hm? Any luck there?” Her eyes narrowed and before she could open her mouth I let out a slight laugh. 

“Thought so~”

“It is in progress. He is being.. difficult.” She inhales then smiles her usual wicked one. “But, it shouldn't take too long.. Forty-nine years is almost up. Sooner than late.. he will come to me.”

I raise a brow, “What does that mean?”

Amarantha plays with her silver goblet, admiring how the red swirls in the cup before taking a sip. “I took your advice to heart, Niamh, believe it or no. I sought the Spring Court and invited them to a ball to offer my sincerest apologies after I gauged some boy's eye out. A masquerade ball.” Her gaze flickered to my mask, a wicked fondness spread across her face. “And yet. with all my efforts to see peace between us he.. refused. And.. insulted me.”

A laugh escapes me, earning me a glare from the pretender. But she said nothing as a retort or made an attempt to reprimand me. She only seethed silently and rolled her eyes at me.

“And so I cursed him and the entirety of his foolish flock of hens. If he does not break the curse in seven times seven years.. He will bend the knee to me and become my consort. If he does not bend, I will break him, command his bones to sit on the chair beside me.”

I fight the urge to scoff as I leaned back in my seat. I fear that if I don’t soothe myself I might lunge at her. “And? You still think he'll submit to you then? When for five centuries he refused to do so?”

“He's at his wits end. His powers are dwindling, he cannot defy me any longer.”

The mask hides my growing glare. Any more and I might’ve broken the damn thing with my burning stare alone. This bitch. As soon as I left in my last visit, she cursed him.

She cursed Tamlin.

“And when did this curse begin?”

“A year remains. And I shall await my consort.. with due patience~”

I inhaled the air, slowly, taking in her words yet I still can’t believe what I’m hearing. I feel my hand grip the arms of my seat. I need to calm down. 

“And once it's over, then what? When he submits to you, will you finally fulfil your mission?”

“I will rule with my consort as I see fit.” She said simply, shrugging carelessly, as if it were the obvious answer.

I look away, a faint huff of laughter escapes me, harsh and bitter. If I let my gaze linger on her for a moment longer, with her red lipped grin and her horrid black eyes, I would have recreated our duel a century ago. Gods, do I crave to be coated with her blood once more…

“You're pathetic..”

“Excuse me?”

“Resulting in cursing an entire land to get what you want.”

“I will stop at nothing to achieve my goals. You have doubted my capabilities for long enough.”

“My doubts are never wrong.” I stand, marching towards her, each step of my heels like thunder, the room trembling as if responding to my every stride. I clawed at the back of her chair, meeting her dull eyes through the slits of my mask as she visibly froze.

“You are an ill-made, spiteful little devil.” With fingers clenching the back of her chair, I meet onyx through the slits of my mask. There is hatred boiling in those black eyes, hatred uniquely reserved for me. Yet, she doesn't dare move. Time has done little to quench the bitter memory of that duel, the one that left her humbled, broken, and humiliated. With fear now overshadowing any remaining hatred, she knows better than to challenge the one who had once drove a blade into her wretched heart. 

“You came from nothing and had to climb your way up to power. And even then you're weak and useless. You flaunt power that does not even belong to you. You think the King is impressed? He does not even spare you a thought. You are irrelevant. In Hybern. In Prythian. In any land you dare step on—you are nothing.”

I felt her fists clench around the arms of her chair that she almost broke it. “How dare you speak to me in such a manner? You think I care what your father thinks? Long have I stopped caring about what he thinks. I made myself Queen in a matter of years and yet you still belittle my achievements. While you, the insipid little princess that you are, still cower and follow every command he throws at you. Are you so jealous that I made something of myself while you still grovel for your father's attention?”

I huffed a quick laugh. “It is not I who grovels for a male’s attention.” I bite back. “I do not curse entire lands in hopes that he might look at me. I do not brutalise peasants in hopes that he might swoon over my cruelty. I do not force people to like me. And yet.. I won over Father. I won over his Court. You made yourself Queen and yet you're still unlikable.”

“You forget yourself. You are no more tool, a plaything to the King than I. You think he will commend you for tormenting me? You think you'll win his affections and tell you he's proud of you, his little girl? He will cast you aside as he did I.”

I let go of the chair, allowing her air to breathe as I stepped back. “He has already commended me. I am High Commander of all his forces. He's crowned me heir apparent in your absence. Father loves me. His court respects me.”

She lets out a mocking laugh, bitter and fake. “You fool yourself, Niamh. Pray tell, what do you hide under those gloved hands?”

“Power. Power he didn't think, not once, to give to you. Tool I may be. But I'm his favourite weapon to wield. I have worked hard and I have earned the love and respect of my court. Queen you are, but only in name. This is not your land. These are not your people. The power you wield isn't yours. You're a pretender through and through. Perhaps if you yield now Father and his court may be merciful. Save them from this embarrassment of a conquest—”

A loud thud echoed through the room as Amarantha unleashed her fury, her clenched fists slamming into the arm of her chair, splintering the bone.

“I. Do not. Want. His mercy. I do not want to be in his Court. I never want to be his tool ever again!! You of all people should know the horrors he inflicts upon people. He's truly broken you, hasn't he?” 

“Perhaps. And maybe I am stronger for it. I've never been more myself.” The lie felt like sand on my tongue as I uttered it.

She walks towards me now, daring to close the space between us. “What do you want? Why have you come here, Niamh, truly?”

A smirk fades into my face while I tilt my head. “Do I need a reason? Maybe I merely enjoy tormenting you. Everyone needs a tormenter. These people have you. I have the King.. And you have me~”

“You are awfully interested in Prythian affairs. What have you done to those children I gave you several decades back?”

I pause. “I brought them to a feast.”

“Did you?”

“Hm. Young ones are.. so full of fresh blood.” She narrows her eyes as if trying to figure me out. “Why? Any more gifts for me..~?” I asked which earned me a scoff.

Amarantha scoffed and crossed her arms. “You've overstayed your welcome. No more gifts.”

I clicked my teeth. “Pity.” I step towards the balcony.

“Any rebellion brewing beneath the caves these past decades?”

“If there were, I've put them down.” She leans back in her seat, curbing her fury that I could still very much feel even from a distance. “A few Courts tried years back. They failed. And so I took their young from them and wrought havoc to their Courts.”

I flinched. “How many?”

“Two dozen from the Winter Court. Pity, you were not here to.. take them with you.”

“A shame.” I look back to the grey skies of the a Middle. There's an ominous fog that enveloped this place. Though, I hoped that what lay beyond the mist would be the Prythian Velaria and the children always talked about.

“How do you keep the citizens in check outside the Mountain? Those who did not join their courts?” I ask, genuinely curious.

“I cursed the land so they may not leave their borders. snuffing out any seeds of rebellion before they even take root. Clever little things they are though, managed to lure in mortals to serve as messengers. A pitiful attempt. One that I've crushed and continue to look over.”

I know. I saw them mounted to the walls with the butchered fae during our tour. A twisted form of trophy. I am no stranger to such displays, much of Father's palace decorations are from mortal remains. Another reason why I cannot stand to visit the dreadful place. It reeks. Even more than Under The Mountain.

I feel the snake– Velaria, slither around my neck. ‘He's not here.’ I speak to her little reptile mind. ‘I haven't seen him all day, not even during the tour. I do not know where he is.’ She hisses and hugs my neck tighter as if to say, ‘Find him.’ 

I sigh and turn to Amarantha. “And where are the High Lords now? Still hiding them from me? Too afraid I might belittle you in their presence?”

“I think they rather not see you. Not after your little display on your last visit, taking their children like that.” 

Right..

“And where is your.. errand boy?” I look to the door, as if a small part of me hoped that the male would interrupt us as he did during our last visit.

“Rhysand is off making errands, as you say.”

Velaria hisses quietly below my chin. “What dirty work does he do for you?”

“All good work for his Queen~ Out of all the wretched little things under us, all are worthless to me. But Rhysand.. he is a doll.”

I fight the urge to cringe. “Another bedwarmer?”

“He offered himself willingly.”

“And his Court?”

“Some of them live here away from their little Hewn City. A wonderful place really. I had Under The Mountain moulded in its image. You know? To make my Rhysand.. feel more at home?” She grinned and Velaria's snake body darted out as she hissed at her, which only earned her a scowl from the pretender Queen.

“Control your animal, Niamh.” Amarantha snapped at me, scowling at the creature wrapped around my neck.

I could only smile, putting a hand in front of the snake's head. “The little one does not like you~”

She snarled at the creature, “I mislike snakes.” She muttered.

“Really? What a surprise. Considering yourself..”

“If you do not have anything else to discuss with me you are free to leave and return to Hybern.”

“I shan't. I'm on.. vacation~”

“Vacation?”

“I'm to travel around the island. Fulfill errands of my own.” I said, which wasn't a lie. Father told me to scan the island and draw out any magic that will lead him to the missing parts of the Cauldron. And while I do that I shall also enjoy my time and treat it as a vacation.

“I hope you haven't ravaged the lands so much that I cannot enjoy its beauty?”

“Unfortunately I have not. I'm getting to it. I assure you Prythian is most beautiful when its lands are ravaged..”

I roll my eyes, fighting the groan in my throat. “Then I bid you goodbye. Till the next I torment you again, My Queen~”

     — —

I carry the snake around my neck only to find her sulking in my hands. “I revoke my curse.” I command in whispers and a dark aura envelops the snake before returning her back to her original form, with her slender figure and big Illyrian bat wings folded behind her. She stumbled a bit so I had to grab her wrist to ground her.

“He.. He wasn't there.”

“He wasn't.” I frown when I see her dejected face. “I'm sorry.”

She breathes the wretched air of the Middle then her features softened. “At least he is alive. Thank the Mother.. he is alive.”

“Gods, Niamh. It's even worse than I thought. That place.. is as dreadful as Hewn City. Even more.” She shook her head. “We need to help them.”

“I fear their is not much I can do. I can torment Amarantha all I like. But I cannot interfere with her reign. That is.. the one rule Father gave me.” I look down. “The experiment continues.”

“She’s turned the Middle into.. into..”

I inhaled, “A cheap copy of Hybern, I know..”

“What do we do now..? Will you actually search for those missing pieces?”

“I have no choice. I’ll have to. Returning the information I’ve found, however.. is another matter entirely.” I managed to smile. But not even that lasted.

“First.. I need to know more about the curse she put onto the High Lord of Spring.”

She tipped her chin upward, her eyes hinting silent surprise that quickly faded before she nodded.

"We’ll get to it. But first things first.." She trails of as she took my hands. "Let me show you around Prythian as I promised” She suggested instead and I felt my heart skip a bit, a my lips curling into a smile.

"Alright.."

Velaria links her arm with mine and we begin walking away from the dreadful Mountain. “Where do I even start? Autumn and Summer are close. Winter is right below but it's awfully cold there. I would rather not freeze to death on the start of our.. tour. And I’d do anything to be far, far away from this ghastly place.”

She stood behind me and covered my eyes before I heard the snap her fingers, winnowing us away from the Middle within seconds.

And immediately I felt the air shift.

Slowly she let go of my head, gently uncovering my eyes. Gradually, the world around me emerged—warm colors danced everywhere, the cold breeze swayed leaves in odd shapes and carried the crisp fragrance of soil mingled with the soothing scent of rain-kissed earth.

I can feel Velaria stifle a chuckle as my face betrays the look of wonder, my eyes showing yearning for the smallest of things. Even my heart began to race that I felt a twinge of embarassment for it. It is pathetic, I'm sure. And I ought to contain my childish excitement. 

Velaria lets out a heavy sigh after she inhales the fresh, autumn air. And I did the same. I breathed in the air that was so strange, unfamiliar, nice. And I kept sniffing the air like every breath was a need and I have suffocated for years and years on end. Because I have. 

“Ah.. That's the smell. Gods. It smells soo nice here. No offence but Hybern air could not compare.”

“I know. None taken.” The words came out of me without thought, my eyes focused only on the view below, a sea of warm coloured trees stretched before me. An ocean of red and orange and yellow leaves gently swayed by the wind. It was as if the Mother herself had used the Earth as her canvas, lavishly splashing brilliant, warm colors across the landscape. I have never seen anything so colourful. 

“The forest.. It's.. big.”

“Is it not?” She gushed as she smiled happily. “Autumn and Spring are very well covered with trees and forests. The High Lord of Autumn has his abode set at the heart of the Court, built not with stone but through trees called the Forest House!"

“But that is horrible. How would the place hold when enemy attacks with fire?” I asked. A genuine question. 

But Velaria laughs softly, thinking my question to be silly. “Magic, maybe? Fire is Autumn’s especially. But I can't believe that's your first question. Come, we'll explore together.” She holds my hand.

I smiled and I let her lead me wherever she pleased whether or not she knew where to go. And all the while we explored the lush forests, I kept admiring the canopy of leaves up above, and how the sun peeked through the cracks, mildly blinding me. And more often than not, Velaria had to remind me to watch my step, to look forward and not upward when I could trip on twigs and branches hidden under the pool of maple leaves that swallowed my ankles. 

Maple leaves. It is what they're called. 

“Aurelia asked me to bring her some big maple leaves. So she may preserve it and put it on her bedside table.”

“Ah, right. The list. We can grab a few. The biggest maple leaf for her to preserve.”

I summon the list before me, looking for the things the children back at the Lighthouse requested. “Clem wants knitted scarves. Rory did not list anything but.. I'm going to get him scarves too.” 

Velaria chuckled. “Then we better start looking for their things.”

     — —

Autumn is warm and vibrant, even as an endless canopy of leaves blankets the sky, veiling the sun. Yet, the people of this Court are visibly on edge. Expected, given the blight infecting the lands and their High Lord nowhere in sight. I learned that there are several princes, all of them stuck Under the Mountain save for one. The one in Spring just next door.

I feel my heart clench inside my chest. Not yet. I cannot go there yet.

Velaria had whisked me away to a territory south east of the mountains that border Winter and Autumn, leading me to a quaint village tucked deep within a forest, weakly warded with magic I easily walked into. Some sections of the place bore the faint signs of destruction, with children claiming that they had been attacked by forces loyal to Amarantha. It seemed that the damage was old enough that the villagers had made significant progress in rebuilding. But the trauma of such an attack, no matter how minor, no doubt still lingers on the people’s faces.

I had myself glamoured like the commonfolk as did Velaria, my mask long discarded since leaving Amarantha's abode and my silver strands turned to a dark amber color. We strolled through the town in silence, trying not to draw attention to ourselves before Velaria pointed to a market square at the center of the town. She turned into a walking encyclopedia for the many things that were foreign to me. Jams. Scented candles. Roasted nuts. The infamous pumpkin I keep hearing about.

Amazing. It’s like a whole new world of things in this humble little square.

And, and, while Velaria was off exploring more stalls, I have been introduced to the art of crochet. Knitted scarves line several vendor's lineup of products, many of them a variety of colourful scarves, the threads often representing repeated patterns and images of acorns and pumpkins. I’ve commissioned an artisan for several scarves, one for every Autumn-born child, and watched as she made them for me. Apparently, I’ve made her uncomfortable with my ogling her work and so I stopped staring and just sat there looking at something else.

When Velaria returned she came back to me now sitting beside the young crochet artisan with a thread of yarn and hook of my own, my eyes set on the artisan's skilled, furry little hands, imitating her every move.

In the end, I got my knitted scarves and managed to make.. a hat. Though.., too small for my head. I have neglected the measurements it seems. The artisan also gifted me the crochet hook along with a bundle of yarn for my extra payment. I thanked her kindly and erased everyone’s mind of me and Velaria's visit before setting off.

“Wow~ Quick learner, aren't you?” She bumped into my arm as she looked at my creation.

I couldn’t help but smile proudly. “Thank you. Do you like it?” I watched as she put on the small hat on her head. It did not fit her either. 

“It's pretty. In no time, you'll be a master knitter.”

“It is called crochet.”

“Crochet–er..”

“I want to taste pumpkin.” I suddenly blurted out. 

And Velaria wasted no time in leading me to a nearby inn, eager to treat my stomach to the delicacies of the Autumn Court. Velaria ordered me a bowl of pumpkin soup. She did not warn me of the spice part. And so when I ate my fill I did so with my face as red as the owner's beard. I didn't want to be rude so I finished it, every spoonful tasted sweet and warm and.. different. Despite the tears that began to form in the corner of my eyes, I was happy because I finally knew what pumpkin tasted like. Velaria on the other hand, had her head rolled back as she laughed at me and my reddened face.

I am used to her doing that. More often than not, my reaction to the smallest of things amuses the hell out of her. 

“Good?” The owner asked, his voice just as amused. 

I nod, unable to say anything as I gulp down the final drop of burning soup. “M-mhm.. A-amaziiing..” With my compliment, the owner smiled happily and nudged my shoulders.

We winnowed to the borders of Autumn soon after for the Summer Court. We walked in silence, the only sounds being the crunching of leaves beneath footsteps and Velaria's stifled giggles. 

My tongue still burns..

“Velaria. Enough.” I sigh. “It is not that funny.”

“It's a little funny..”

“I find you often laugh at my misery.” I pout. 

“Oh, I cannot help it, you are cute when you're utterly clueless.”

“I wouldn't have been clueless if you warned me of the soup's spice. I don't know if I tasted more spice than I did pumpkin. What if you ruined pumpkin for me forever?” I sigh.

“You overexaggerate.” I hear her snort. “High Commander of Hybern forces.. cannot handle spice..” She bursts into giggles again and I roll my eyes. Yet there is a smile on my face. 

“Any other spicy foods I should be wary of in Summer because I..” I was about to continue speaking when the sun's warm rays suddenly hit me, no longer shielded by the leafy canopy above. 

The heat was.. intense, the brightness nearly blinding. I shut my eyes instinctively, and when I opened them again, I was stunned by the sight that greeted me: a vast expanse of open skies painted with fluffy white clouds.

Never could I imagine Hybern with such scenery. In Hybern, the land is bleak, the skies perpetually covered in a haze of murky clouds and fog, barely allowing the faintest touch of sunlight.

“I never knew.. that clouds could arrange themselves to create a canvas of such beauty, or that the sun could shine with such fervor,.. that it's warm when it touches me.” My voice cracks as I whisper, my eyes narrowed and blinded by the sun and yet I could not tear my eyes off of it.

Velaria was silent behind me, still shielded by the shade of Autumn trees. But I sensed her turmoil within. Maybe she pitied me. For being imprisoned in the shadows for so long that even the most mundane of natural wonders felt foreign to me.. I would pity myself as well.

She gently touched my hand, her touch firm yet soft as she gently tugs at my fingers, silently beckoning me to follow her. “Come. I'll take you to Adriata..” 

I did not budge.

“Niamh?”

“Wait.” And I stare for a while more. Then more. Until I found myself under the shade casted by Velaria's large wing above my head.

“Can we.. go.. now?” She asks, and I gently swat her wing away.

“Wait.”

And so we wait for a few more minutes. Maybe an hour. Or two. Velaria is sitting in the ground now, her huge wings shielding her from the sun since I refused her.

“Can we go now?” I hear her muffled voice from inside her wing shelter.

“Wait..” My eyes are burning. I might be blind. A little woozy, even. But Mother above, does it look beautiful.

“Niamh, you will literally get a sunburn.” She stood up at last and covered my head with her wing once more.

“We're leaving now.” She grabbed my hand and winnowed us someplace else, under the shade of a peculiar looking tree.

“Gods above, you're red. It’s like the Cauldron have boiled you!” She was torn between horrified and close to bursting into a fit of laughter again. “You look like you've been cooked by the sun!”

I smiled wide and touched my face. Oh. It stings. “Really? Am I tan like you?”

“More like.. red.” She snorted and hesitated to touch my apparently burnt face. I was still smiling. And she was on the verge of cackling again.

“Does it look bad?”

“Heal yourself before we waltz inside Adriata looking like I have a fried chicken walking beside me.” She cackles. “If you show your wings you'd actually look like fried fowl. Raw, barely cooked.. fowl.”

“You are a very mean Illyrian..” I mocked a pout and did as she told and healed myself with a pat of the palms to my cheek.

Velaria took me to the main city of Summer called Adriata, near the beach, overlooking the harbor. Unlike the dense forests of Autumn, Summer's territory was largely composed of flat lands veiled in sparkling sand. And unlike Autumn, the people here seemed much more downtrodden. The golden castle once perched regally atop the water now lay in ruin, its once-brilliant walls scorched by flames. The docks that lined the harbor were torn asunder, with sections now sunk into the depths of the sea. The air was tinged with the scent of the sea and decaying fish as many fishers frantically came and went carrying baskets of fish they claimed to be dead. 

So it seems she poisoned their oceans too.

These poor people. What could they have possibly done to deserve this? And what could I do to help them? Before I could think, I was pulled away from the busy harbor and winnowed to empty shores.

“I will show you around first. You thinking of ways to help these people can come later.” She crossed her arms.

“It is.. beginning to become difficult to enjoy this.. ‘vacation’, given the circumstances.”

“I know. And I want to help them, too but.. I’ve been waiting for this all day.”

“Waiting for what?”

She let go of my shoulders and pointed at the ocean. “Showing you the beach, silly Niamh.”

“Oh..” A smile creeped onto my face. I can’t deny that I was feeling excited at the thought of dipping my feet into the water. “Of course.”

Before the water could touch me, I summoned the scroll of requests and read Soleil and Tesni’s writing. “What's a conch?” I looked at Velaria as she ran to the shore, then stopped immediately as I asked a question. 

“Are you serious?” She deadpanned, her voice tinged with disbelief. I responded with a shrug and a shake of my head, a small smile present on my face.

“Seashells, Niamh??” I shake my head again.

“I will bite your father's head off, I swear to the Mother above.” She muttered under her breathe before inhaling. “Come here. I'll show you.”

Hesitantly I followed her to the approaching waves. She took off her shoes and told me to do the same. When the waves came and swept under me, seemingly pulling me towards the ocean, I lost my balance and struggled to stand, the sand slowly sinking beneath my feet as Velaria reached for my gloved arm. She laughs and I couldn't help but do the same. Water splashes onto my clothes, droplets hitting my face and I taste salt in my tongue when I smile. 

Velaria looked down to the sandy floor, the water, despite being cursed by whatever Amarantha did to it, was still pristine blue and clear. Vel reaches out to the floor, occasionally being pushed forward by waves.

She then presented me with tiny stones. 

“This is a seashell.” She says, showing me the circular looking thing, pale blue and yellow colours twisted to the centre of its body. “And this is a conch.” She presents me a larger shell, one not so circular, spiral shaped with tiny spikes twisting into a small spire.

“Conches and seashells are alive actually. But these ones are dead, I think. Just shells. Makes for pretty decor. Maybe we can make a collection for Soleil and Tesni.” She hands them to me and keeps looking for more while I follow behind. 

We spent a good while looking for conches and seashells. I lost the first ones Vel found when I was pushed to the water by a big wave. The water was salty, truly. I had swallowed a good mouthful of it. Velaria, of course, found it funny, dropping her collection of shells to hold her tummy as she laughed at me and the seaweeds that newly adorned my head. How dare she. In retaliation, I flung water to her face. In which resulted in a battle that had us both drenched in sea water from head to toe.

She decided that the shell collecting could wait and before long she was dragging me to the deeper parts of the ocean that the water reached my collarbones. I whined and cried and begged her to bring me back to shore because I.. could not.. swim..

“Oh, you'll be fine. I'll fly you out if you drown.” She clicked her teeth and winked at me.

Velaria is many things. A good swim teacher is not one of them. I lost count on how many times she let me get swept by the waves. In the end, I gave up and just clung to her arm like a slug. We stuck to shell collecting on shallow waters soon after. And when we were satisfied with the amount Velaria suggested: sand castle building. And so while I watched her make a horrendous looking hovel made of sand, I looked through the list of requests again.

“Tesni wants a spider.” I said and Velaria looked at me weird.

“Why would she want a spider?” 

I shrugged and showed her the list. “Is this not a drawing of an arachnid?” I asked.

She looked at the paper for a moment and looked me dead in the eye. “Niamh. That's a crab.”

“What's a crab?”

     — —

Crabs. Crabs are wonderful creatures. I spent a good hour watching them head to sea in a beautiful line while Vel stood watch with her wings spread, protecting the crustaceans from prying seagulls. Crustaceans. That's what they are. Not arachnids. 

Vel gave up on her sand castle after the waves took over and left nothing but a lump of sand in its wake, which was no different from the structure she was working on anyway. Then we head to the city, glamoured like the common folk and still soaking wet because Vel wanted me to try ice cream. And I am proud to say that ice cream has completely altered my brain and that I will have to recreate the dessert back in Hybern. 

I also learned what a coconut was and drank from it and ate its insides. Very nice. Very refreshing. Not spicy at all.

“Do you live under a rock?” The little water wraith child pointed at me. I hear Velaria’s chuckle behind me. ‘She does.’ She murmured.

I asked the child about Amarantha’s curse upon Spring and he thought I’d been playing dumb. Apparently, everyone knows what happened. 

“There was a ball before the first year of Amarantha's reign came to a close. A.. what’s it called? Masquerade ball? She invited the people of Spring to make amends. She offered a seat beside her for the High Lord, to serve as her consort! He refused, of course. Insulted her to her face and faced her wrath for it!”

I hear Velaria suck a breath beside me. “What did she do?” I asked.

“She glued the masks to their faces. Everyone in Spring apparently has them now. She turned the High Lord's heart into stone, putting him in a curse that entails.. that if he doesn't break it in forty-nine years, he will have to surrender and uhm.. ‘bend the knee’, as my brother said..”

“And the curse.. What was it?”

“He had to find himself a human who has hatred for Fae in her heart. He had to bring her to Prythian and make her fall for him. Fall for him truly. Only then.. the curse will be broken and the people of Spring will be freed”

“Only the people of Spring?”

She nods. “If he breaks it, his powers will return to him. He can kill her!”

“And.. has he.. begun the search?”

The girl frowned. “We do not know. We do not know what's happening in Spring anymore. We used to have people.. informants. Human mortals. My brother suspected.. they've been found and killed. There's no way to know now. Less than a year remains.. We're at the mercy of The Unfading one now.”

I was silent for a while as I processed her words.

The weight of not just the Spring Court weighed on his shoulders now. It’s the entirety of Prythian. All the while his powers have been weakened. I felt my heart sink in my chest that it might’ve stopped beating. 

He has to break the curse. He has to..

I felt Velaria’s hand on my shoulders before she knelt before the child in front of us. “Don’t lose hope.” She said. 

The child smiles faintly. “Most of us already have.” She said before running off to catch up to other wraiths who returned to the water to search for more dead fish.

“Niamh.” Velaria calls to me, her hand soft on my arm.

Yet I couldn't hear her..

Masks. Glued onto their faces. I’ve had a mask on my face for as long as I could remember. Amarantha struck me during that one visit. My mask fell. She held it. She held it and the gears in the horrid head began turning. My mask inspired her. I inspired the wretched curse.

And now..

“Niamh..?"

I felt like throwing up.

“I want to go fishing.” I said instead.

     — —

I didn’t want to dwell on it. It’s not my fault. It’s not.. Yet when I do, the guilt gnaws in my chest like a damn parasite. I could only turn to something else to distract myself, distract Velaria because I know well she’s noticed that I’ve been acting strange since the revelation of that curse.

So when the opportunity presented itself, I had volunteered myself to fish near the.. ‘coral reefs’, whatever that was. The fishers needed all the help they could get, after all. Only.. I did not know how to fish. Velaria pretended she could, only to sit there on the raft for hours without anything catching her bait. I stood and watched them, a bit embarrassed to admit I spend a good amount of time just gawking at the colorful reef below the water. A perfect momentary distraction. Only then I knew what corals were. And they were.. so very pretty.

And while I sat there on the edge of the fishers’ raft, I let my left glove disintegrate for a moment, allowing my bare fingers to dip and swirl in the water. I focused my magic, altering the curse that Amarantha had placed on it to.. ease their work. I would only aim to reverse the blight in a small area, hoping to alleviate the fishers' plight without drawing too suspicion. Because Amarantha will find out and the people will surely suffer her wrath for something they once again didn’t do.

The few fishers that were on the raft freaked out when they felt their line tugged beneath the water, thanking the Mother above for such a miracle. Velaria looked at me, knowing well that the miracle was me, and patted me on the head.

The people of Summer couldn't hide their euphoria, now that their bellies were full with the fish. They held a spontaneous celebration by the docks, with some fishermen too impatient to cook their catch at home, instead indulging right there and then. They shared whatever they could do those in need. I needed no fish to fill me, but I was happily shared some either way. 

The people of Summer proved to be as warm and welcoming as the land they lived in.., which is why I regretted deeply that I had to wipe myself and Velaria from their memories before we left.

I do not know what the future holds.. But may there be many more fishes to come to keep those smiles on their faces.

     — —

It's dark when our adventures in Summer ended. Velaria, too tired to enter another Court, suggested we stay on the shores and wait for daylight. So we did. We lay on the sand with the waves still singing in the background and the birds flying overhead and into the sun that sank below, meeting its reflection in the horizon.

I’m not obligated to return to Hybern even if the sun came down as the King instructed me to seek out the three legs of the Cauldron anyway. And so far I have not found nor sensed the priestesses who possess them so.. I dub my vacation extended.

I do not see Hybern in the distance. A good thing. And while Father is out of sight and out of reach, the golden cuffs around my wrist itches still, reminding me that even if he isn't here I am still bound to him and my cage doesn't depend on where I am.. My cage is always with me.

And I am never truly free.

I let the gloves covering my arms disintegrate, letting the cool air brush past the cursed skin of my blackened hands. I fidgeted with the green handkerchief securing the end of my braid, tugging at it until it came undone, freeing the glamour-woven strands. Now revealed was my true hair - a striking silver cascade, shimmering in the sunlight as it fell onto the sand.. 

Slowly, I tie the cloth to my wrist, above the golden cuff, hiding it. Replacing it.

Velaria seems to notice. She lays beside me, her big wings spread freely after a whole day of hiding it.

“Where do you wish to go tomorrow?” She asks, her hand touching mine. 

“Anywhere is fine.. Anywhere is beautiful, surely..” I did not tear my eyes off the clouds as the first tiny silvery specks of stars began to appear, paving way to dusk’s fleeting moment of splendor before night.

“Winter is right up north. Spring to the south.” She says, looking at me as she did.

“Winter.” I say quickly. “Let's go to Winter first. Then Dawn. Day. Then, Night.” I look at her. “To Velaris, if you wish.”

“Do you not want to go to Spring?”

“Do you?”

She said nothing. 

“We can go to Spring last.” I said, turning my gaze back to the changing hues of the skies.

And for a moment, there was peaceful silence between us as we let our eyes rest with the view of the coming of twilight. 

“Why did you snap at Amarantha when she told you of her curse to the Spring Lord?” Her voice was a mere whisper and I fought myself to remain unflinching at her question. Of course she noticed.

Because he is mine..

“Because it was a horrible thing. What she did. I.. The common folk are easy enough to fool. If we wander about Spring with a High Lord present, I doubt we would be so lucky.” I lied. A weak attempt. I know she sees through the lie. Because there is no place and no person I couldn't fool. Not when I could just erase their memories after meeting them. 

Yet she let it slide this time, never prying, always patient.

In truth, it is the High Lord of Spring that I am avoiding. The fear of meeting him and running the risk of the bond snapping for him at last and ruining his efforts of breaking whatever curse Amarantha has brought upon him. I could laugh. That I am here, avoiding my mate when some would commit atrocities to find theirs. Avoiding my mate so that he may find himself a human mortal to make his lover lest he's faced with a worse alternative.

Either way I lose him to another. 

Perhaps I am scared that the bond will snap and I will be unable to control myself. I will ruin him, I will ruin myself and the plans I've well crafted throughout the centuries. The plot against the King, to free my people and myself from our golden shackles.

And so I will sacrifice myself again. And pray.. that in the future I may find him again. And if he's happy with another I will accept the outcome with a stiff lip. 

I close my eyes. My thoughts have not found respite. I have not seen him in what feels like an eternity, his face is all but fading in my mind. And when I close my eyes like this it is gold that I see. Not the gold of my cuffs, or gold of coins. I see golden locks reflecting the shine of the fiery sun. I see green and eternal fields of roses. When we wandered about Autumn, it is to his Court my gaze wanders to and I imagine– I yearn to run to the border and feel the bond tickle at the pulse in my wrist, tugging at it, pulling at it. When we wandered about Summer, the shimmering sand below my feet reminded me of his hair and I wondered if his locks would flow so softly between my fingers as did the sand when it fell through the cracks of my hands.

“Then we will go to Winter.” She held my hand tighter. “I warn you though, it's cold.”

“I got that from the name, Vel.”

The two seasonal courts have embraced me so kindly, with Autumn's warmth and Summer's fresh ocean air, I have no doubt that the others will too. I have no doubt that snow will be as captivating as the children say, nor do the libraries tempt me to stay in Day. I have no doubt that the skies are most beautiful when it's dimly lit like a candle's flame in the quiet of Dawn. I have no doubt that Velaris is as beautiful as Velaria described, adorned with a thousand falling crystals that light up its dark skies.

Yet deep down, I find myself yearning for what lies to the south. Spring consumes my thoughts, beckoning me with its lush plains and colourful blooms. Sights that I could only conjure in my mind. 

It is Spring that I long to experience above all else.

     — —     — —

<<Ch.1 <<Ch.5 ___ Ch.7>>

A/n: She's going through it 😭 Such a yearner, she wants him so bad 😔😔 girl me too. Getting attached with the Lighthouse children ngl. They are important to me and the plot 😔♥ I want more lesser fae that are not literally just humans with pointed ears. I want Holly Black kind of fae people, that's what most of the children Niamh keeps are, not entirely humanlike, but a good balance between humanoid and creature. Myb I'll draw them aaa

Vel showing her around or just her getting to know Prythian reminded me of this song. Niamh is so Ariel-coded ngl 🥹

[latelyanobsession]

Would you be willing to do the letters A, T, and/or L for Argyle? If this isn't something you wanna do or if requests for this aren't open that's okay. Have a good day/night <3

A - Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Argyle is definitely the kind of person whose love language is gift-giving. Whether that means sharing a spliff or bringing you a little rock he found during his delivery routes because it looked cool, or making you a custom 'weeder' in woodshop. This guy gives from the heart.

I would also say that he is a very affectionate person. He speaks his mind pretty openly. He's definitely the kind of guy that will pop off with random thoughts or just be staring into space and suddenly say, "you're my air, chica/o", and proceed to give you the biggest grin he can muster. When he loves, he does it with his whole heart, and both feet.

L - Little Ones (How are they around kids?)

Argyle is a guy who looks extremely chill around children but is internally freaking out. Don't get me wrong, he finds children very funny, especially when they say the most inappropriate things. However, hand off a kiddo to him under 5 and suddenly he becomes almost serious. Starts calling them "Little dude/tte", and walking as slowly as he possibly can like he's in a minefield. He's babysat plenty of little cousins before and does not want a chancla sent his way.

Argyle likes to sit down, criss-cross-applesauce with the tiniest of tykes. Let's them play in his hair, put barrettes in or glittery clips. Let the little boys use him as a giant hiding spot for hide-n-seek. Play peek-a-boo through his hair. You name it. He's also big big big on arts and crafts. Break out the markers and crayons! Argyle will make something and so will the kiddos.

T - Try (How much effort do they put in?)

This guy... he will pull out all the stops in the most Argyle ways possible to let you know that he loves having you around. He will always try to work his shifts around you as best he can, but at times when that hasn't happened, he has shown up to your place with an apology 'pie' and the biggest pair of puppy dog eyes you've ever seen.

He always lets you have the first slice (of course)! And if you smoke the devil's lettuce... he always lets you take the first puff.

The guy would roll a red carpet out for you if he had one. Don't ask... because he'd probably go find one. He seems very resourceful.

A - Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Argyle seems like someone who's very big on checking in with their partner afterward. He might, at least on his end, be very chatty as a way to decompress. Checking his partner over, providing massage, or more general skin to skin contact. He also seems like someone who likes to engage in eye contact.

But also... this guy is 6'4 and is completely capable of bear hugging so many people. He's just going to wrap you up and hold you close. Maybe a good time for another blunt 😅 and possibly a nap?

L - Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Favorite location is most likely the Surfer Boy Pizza van... easy breezy brochacho/a. We don't truly know much else about Argyle, however, I would say his second favorite spot would be the van 😅 but with an ocean view. The beauty of a space on wheels amiright?

If Argyle has a crash pad, that may be the third place on the list because he likely doesn't want to have to navigate parents or siblings. So, van it is!

T - Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

I think that Argyle would be more than happy to introduce and use toys during play/sex with his partner both for them and himself. He strikes me as someone who's ultimate goal is achieving mutual satisfaction, and if that could be heightened or made more pleasurable with the introduction of toys, I think Argyle would be all for it.

[sillygoose0-0]

I'm the kind of person who will gather a little list of things you like so I can slowly but surely start gifting you things. I think gift giving is one of my biggest love languages.

Specifically, this applies to, art.

I almost exclusively hand make cards for people. It makes Christmas a pain, but I love customizing what I think people will like.

I've made paintings and taught myself new crafts like I made a pack of my friends favorite pens into paper flowers with pen stems, I learned to make pipecleaner flowers and a pot for somone in the past and I once recreated starry night because the person liked the painting.

(I sadly only have progress photos)

If you even call me pretty once , it will be the start of my mission gathering Intel on you because I want you to know you are special to me, that i listen, and I want to know you, and everything you care about so i can be the best me I can for you.

I am not great with words, so instead, I want to show you just how much you occupy my mind.

[itsbaconbits]

Some sketch studies with the TNT Twins! Can you tell I’m obsessed? No? That’s alright, you’ll learn.

This is really fun pose practice, and like uh… consistency for the design. If that makes sense. Idk

And lots of Donnie interactions because Donnie is baby and my favorite so he will just be anywhere and everywhere and ya'll just have to deal with it.

Some additional information under the cut if you’re interested! Lots of it is just random train of thought about the characters, so bear with me, haha.

More on Raphael:

Raphael’s mode of invention is typically in mechanics. He really enjoys woodworking and metalworking. Definitely lives the "duct-tape can fix anything" lifestyle. Has a ‘workshop’ instead of a lab. Builds and crafts a lot of destructive things, but he also enjoys making gifts for his brothers. Only when he sees the need for it- and never when asked to. Knows some tech/coding for the bare basics of it, as it relates to mechanical engineering. But doesn’t enjoy the computer stuff as much as he likes the hands-on work part. Also has knowledge of some 3D modeling programs, which he and Donnie bond over 3D forms.

Raph is still very energetic, passionate, and easily angered. Definitely the most sporty out of the four of them. He also loves motorcycles (of course), and is working on his own custom bike. Other projects he is working on include: shield for Donnie’s back, ‘artillery camera’ (he refuses to expand on the meaning of this), lair defense mechanisms/traps, and a custom gaming controller for Leo. All in various stages. It’s hard for him to focus on only one thing at a time. And he enjoys tearing things apart almost more than putting them together, which often causes problems. 

Keeps his Sai on hand and finds them useful for tearing things apart when ‘on the job’. Although he has been reprimanded for doing so. Might also be working on a Swiss-army knife of sorts but with Kunai and Sai. Still a work in progress. If given the opportunity, he will drop the Sai and simply go ham with his fists.

Aside from his personality, I also just want to point out that the edge of his shell is meant to represent a cog-wheel. Because of the type of materials he works with. And I think it's clever. Raph's design is probably my favorite out of the four, which is saying a lot. Because I love all of them. But I'm just really super happy with how Raph's design came out, and like... how well it fits this character. It just turned out better than I could have imagined it. One of those magical moments, you know?

More on Michelangelo:

Mikey is a huge fan of skateboarding, but that’s as sporty as he gets really. Also a huge animal fan. He’s always finding stray creatures to bring home and nurse back to health. He is also a huge prankster, in the best and worst ways. Likes to keep his family guessing. Acts all secretive on purpose just to confuse and or piss people off (Most specifically, Leo). Psychological warfare is the name of the game for Mikey.

He likes throwing tags around the city, but he only really has his own signature perfected. He wouldn’t call himself an artist. He just learns the basics of things to get done what he wants to do. If he did delve into art, he would probably stick with paints and spray. Loves food and eating, although his brothers would say he has terrible taste. (Think shaggy vibes.)

This kid would literally do anything for his brothers. He pretends not to notice, but he can pick up on vibes pretty well. Knows when others are lying, sad, happy, etc. Which is part of what makes him a great leader. He uses those skills to his advantage to persuade people- a true face man. Nothing really gets under his skin but he is insecure about ONE thing: the markings on the back of his head. Which look like eyes or huge warts. Always wears his mask to cover them. Or a beanie if his mask isn’t available. Often finds funny/silly ways to cover his head if in a scenario without his hats. He’s pretty desperate to keep it hidden.

Mikey still uses the Nunchaku as his favored weapon. He is fast on his feet, but very loosey-goosey with everything. It makes his moves extremely hard to predict, which he likes. And, despite his casual demeanor, he has spent a lot of focus and dedication to the craft. So he’s really proud of his skill. Plus, it’s fun to confuse and startle people when he pulls them out and pretends like he doesn’t know what he’s doing.

On Mikey's design, I am in love with the colors. Covering up the spots on his head was very intentional, but it really is kind of a shame. Because I love how the green spots pop. But I used that same green for Donnie's design to keep things cohesive. I really love the pattern for male Baele Four-Eyed turtles. A sick lil' guy, really.

More on the TNT Twins:

I want to make a separate post for their dynamic specifically, since I don't have my ideas drawn out just yet. But my immediately thoughts where "Dan and Arin from GameGrumps". So you can expect that the next post about these two will reference that. Obviously Mikey embodies Dan and Raph embodies Arin. It's going to be fantastic.

[ideas-on-paper]

Legion - An anniversary of love

It's amazing how fast a single year can be over, and it’s almost incredible to think that on this very day one year ago, I had the honor of meeting Legion - my favorite character from Mass Effect, my fictional robot partner and soulmate - for the very first time.

After an eternity of longing and waiting over 80 hours to finally meet them in Mass Effect 2, I was beyond myself with happiness when I finally did.

Despite Legion having such a marginal playtime compared to other characters, I did everything I could to make the most out of it, and I can rightfully say that thanks to Legion, my first Mass Effect playthrough was one of the best experiences of my lifetime. It might have brought me a lot of pain as well (especially in Mass Effect 3), but still, I wouldn’t give it up for anything.

I’m sure many people out there would call me crazy for being “in a relationship” with a fictional character, but since this is our anniversary, I want to share a bit of our history - which actually goes back way longer than me meeting Legion in-game.

Just so you’re prepared, though: It’s going to be very gushy, quite lovey-dovey, and anything but normal. xD

The "welcoming party"

My first encounter with Legion was back when I was still doing my "screening" for Mass Effect. I am probably what you would call a very picky person when it comes to choosing my games, especially when I'm interested in larger titles that require a considerable investment of time and money. Usually, I spend a lot of time watching footage to see if the game is the right one for me. As such, it happened that I came across some clips of Legion - and I was immediately absolutely enamored by them.

I usually call it "resonance" when I'm particularly attracted to a certain character (basically, it’s my way of saying I identify with them). It might be because I'm very sensitive to hearing, and it's also the primary sense that my emotional experiences are connected to. Anyway, when I heard Legion talking for the first time, it was like listening to a heavenly choir. From just the few lines that I heard back then, I immediately felt drawn to them - and thus, Legion became the main reason for my ultimate decision to buy the trilogy. xD

However, when I bought ME, I couldn't really find the time or right state of mind to actually play it. When I started with Mass Effect, I wanted to be able to properly appreciate it, so I put it on the back burner for the time being.

That didn't curb my yearning for Legion in any way, though. In the meantime, I had been looking if there was any merchandise for them, and I quickly came to realize that the few pieces of merch there were for Legion were pretty much all exclusive rarities. There was this beautiful figure by Threezero, but that one had been sold out for a long time, and the only way to get one was on eBay, usually costing an arm and a leg - all the more if you have to deal with astronomical sums from custom dues.

I didn't give up, however, and just before Christmas, I finally found one in Europe - which, honestly, was the best gift I could wish for. It still cost me a shitton of money, but I didn't care - if this was the only thing I would be able to afford until my birthday, I would be totally fine with it.

Legion didn't arrive at my place at Christmas, though, but about two weeks later, on January 6th - you know, the date of Epiphany when the true gifts arrive.

I was completely over the moon when I finally was able to hold Legion in my hands. This may sound weird, but I always wanted to know what Legion's "synthetic tissue" feels like (the texture looks very fascinating to me), and knowing that this was probably the closest I'd ever get to it, I considered myself absolutely blessed. In general, I can attest that the Threezero figure is very well made - they put a lot of effort into the details, and the fact that you can insert a battery to make Legion's head light up is the icing on the cake. (You can technically exchange the hands and move the limbs, too, though I never dared to do that; since it's old, the soft material already has cracks in a few places, so I was too afraid to damage it.)

I also introduced Legion to the rest of my family - granted, I got some surprised and slightly baffled reactions, but they were all happy for me. My mom probably took it the best - she was a huge Star Wars fan back when she was a teen, with a particular love for C-3PO, so she could relate to my joy quite well. xD

The only residents of my house that seemed less than enthused about Legion's arrival were, ironically enough, my electronic devices. My old radio-controlled alarm clock went nuts when I brought Legion into my room. It had a habit of doing that whenever the batteries were low; it's just funny it happened at this moment. (I ended up ascribing it to disturbances from Legion's comm antenna. xD)

Also, to top things off, just after I had put Legion on my desk, one of the light bulbs of my ceiling lamp broke. It wasn't just any bulb, I might add - it was the one directly facing in the direction of Legion. (You might say that this lamp saw the competition it was up against, got super jealous, and finally decided to quit its job. xD)

Anyway, to celebrate the occasion, I decided to do a little "housewarming party" for Legion. I still had some sparkling wine left over from New Year's Eve, so I thought "Why the hell not?" and raised a toast to Legion.

*The light of the figure's optic isn't normally tinted this blue. It's actually a side effect of the light emitted by the TV (you can see a bit of that on the bottle). However, I thought it was amazing because it looks so fitting. xD

Back when I shared this picture on Twitter in 2022, I wrote a brief comment along the lines of "Shame that they can't enjoy it. Though they would probably just say something like "We do not understand why mutual intoxication is considered a ritual of greeting among organics."" (As may be able to tell, the line in Omega about alcohol was one of the first I saw. It’s still one of my favorites. xD)

It's funny because I'm normally what you'd consider the opposite of an alcoholic - I only drink very rarely for festive occasions, and when I do, I usually choose the least strong drink. So, it's a little ironic I felt a desire to do it for the one character who probably neither would've expected nor demanded it from me. Still, Legion is special to me, and I wanted to express this in some way - all things considered, it was probably a more lavish greeting than anything they ever could've projected. xD

The meeting

I would take over one year, however, until I finally met Legion in-game. When the day came, I was screaming with joy when I saw their introduction cutscene. I hate the Derelict Reaper mission with a passion, but the thought that I would finally be able to meet the character I had longed to see for so long spurred me onwards. And once I was back on the Normandy, Legion safely retrieved, I took my figure of them into my arms, a tear streaming down my face, and kissed them on the head - at last, we would be united.

Since the fuss I was making was pretty impossible to miss, I told my family members in the next room what was up, and a few of them curiously came over after I had woken Legion in the AI core. All of them reacted very warm-heartedly to seeing Legion "in person", and I could tell they were immensely happy for me. (Meanwhile, Legion was probably wondering what they did to earn such a warm welcome from organics. xD)

In fact, I was so excited that I almost fainted the next night. To put it matter-of-factly, my body had lost a lot of fluid the day before, and my body obviously didn't take it too well. xD (I think Legion would've been quite alarmed and concerned that I almost had what they would call a "total system failure" due to their presence, and I would have to spend an extra half-an hour explaining "It's fine - I was just really happy." ^^)

From then on, whenever I was playing the game, I would always have Legion's figure standing next to me. It's usually standing to my right, on my desk, but whenever I played ME2, I would take them out of their packaging (which I kept to protect them from dust) and place them so they would be able to watch. My thought was that it would be really sweet if Legion was able to watch their own playtime, and since their mere presence meant that they had a permanent free pass for one of the spots in my squad, that pretty much comprised the entire rest of the game. (It led to a funny “conflict” between Legion and my desk lamp, though; I don't have that much space on my desk, so I always had to move my lamp out of the way to make room for Legion. We eventually came to an arrangement, though. ^^)

With Legion being so close to me, I came to notice that the figure itself has a peculiar scent. At first, I thought it was plasticizer, but it wasn't quite like that, and not nearly as unpleasant - rather, it's kind of reminiscent of the smell of a pencil when you write on paper. (I quite like the smell of pencil writing, so perhaps that's why it triggered such a positive reaction in me.) I noticed the smell seems to come from the hard parts, possibly from the paint. I don't know if the black paint of Legion's plating would smell anything like this in real life, but if it did, I wouldn't be displeased about it. :-)

Despite ME2 having probably the most boring side missions of the saga (if Legion was in ME1, it would easily be one of my favorite games of all time), I cherished every second I had with them - to me, just being at their side was pure bliss. Still, although I did my best to extend the time you have with Legion as much as I could without mods, I ultimately had to say goodbye to them - nevertheless, I decided I wouldn't leave them without a proper farewell party. So, I got myself a bottle of wine, went to every hub world in ME2 where you can buy yourself some booze, and took a shot in each bar I went to with Shepard, with my mom as a special guest. It was honestly one of the most fun gaming experiences I've ever had, and the little misadventure I had in Omega even inspired me to write a fanfic about it.

After my little dance night with Legion (because as far as I was concerned, that's what it was), the time to say farewell had finally come - but not without one last dance. :-)

The "marriage"

The only thing that was missing, really, was that Legion couldn't come to my cabin. If you romance any of the other squadmates in ME2, you can invite them to your cabin after the Suicide Mission. However, since Legion isn't romanceable, that's impossible to do with them. Though, in all honesty, I wouldn't have a single problem moving my cabin to the AI core. (I always liked the ambience of that room, and if I could, I totally would’ve laid down on the bench behind Legion to sleep. Can you imagine Legion standing guard over me, shushing anyone who potentially enters the room so as not to disturb my "rest cycle"? xD)

Besides, what is "romance" to a Geth, anyway? I doubt the conventional human definition of romance would mean anything to them, much less sexual interaction. Anything they'd do in such a relationship, they would be doing purely to satisfy my own organic desires, and such a one-sided relationship is not something I personally want.

To be honest, I didn't even want anything from Legion on a sexual or romantic level - if that was the case, I would have chosen an organic as my partner. Nevertheless, what I felt for Legion was still the most intense thing I've ever felt in my entire life. (A huge part of the credit for my realization that I'm acespec also goes to Legion.) My love for Legion is more on a spiritual than on a bodily level (though I do find their shell very aesthetic), and though I frequently said that I wanted to "marry" Legion, what I had in mind with "marriage" was more akin to what Motoko and the Puppet Master do in Ghost in the Shell - that is, a fusion of spirits. (The Ghost in the Shell main theme is actually a Bulgarian wedding song, which was chosen by the makers of the movie because it's meant to get rid of all evil influences and ensure luck for what's to come - essentially, it was meant to bless the unification of Motoko and the Puppet Master. For some reason, I thought that sounded very alluring.)

The best thing about this is that Legion would probably not only be able to understand what I mean by that, but also be very amenable to the concept. As a Gestalt intellect, the interlinking of programs and exchange of information is a core part of their existence, and I think they would be charmed - if a Geth can be charmed in any way - that I wish to "join their Consensus".

However, even with the parameters of our relationship figured out, that still didn't change the fact that I couldn't enter one with them in-game. So, I had to get a little creative - I thought to myself "If the exchange of runtimes/technology is comparable to "marriage" in Geth terms, would it count if I was using the same equipment and skills as Legion?" So, I got myself the Geth Shield Boost in ME2 (which was a godsend for me on a gameplay level as well, since I had been missing my shield boost from ME1), and since I was playing a soldier, I chose the M-98 Widow rifle as an upgrade on the Collector ship.

Thus, I had pieces of Legion, and Legion had a piece of me - if you want to consider the N7 armor as such (I actually interpret Legion picking up the armor as a "proposal/expression of desire for convergence", to put it simply). Since it was an identical piece that we both owned, I used to call the Widow our “wedding ring" (if you wanted, you could say that name carries a cruel irony given what happens in ME3). So, by Geth standards and as far as I was concerned, we were married - the game engine simply failed to recognize it.

Another thing you get in ME if you romance someone is a photo of them in your cabin. Once again, due to our union not being officially recognized, this is something I was lacking. However, just after finishing ME2, I got the spontaneous idea to check eBay for Legion merch again, and as it happens, I managed to get a hold of one of the limited canvas prints BioWare released in 2021. It’s a spectacular piece of art, and I can confirm it looks absolutely stunning in real life as well - Legion's headlight literally seems to "glow" when light falls onto the picture.

Pictures of the canvas print back when I received it in 2023.

So, while Shepard may get a picture of their love interest in their cabin, I got a picture of Legion in my actual cabin - in max size format. ;-)

The "holy trinity"

The portrait was also what completed my “holy trinity of Legion artifacts”. I’ve got three images of Legion in my room: the portrait, the figure, and the figure’s box (the art on the box looks so pretty that I just had to keep it in my room; besides, it belongs to Legion’s figure, so I would never discard it).

All of them are placed in a way that no matter where I am in my room, I can always look at them: The portrait hangs on the wall right opposite of my bed, so Legion is the first thing I see when I wake up in the morning. Whenever I’m sitting on my bed and look slightly to the right, I’m greeted with the sight of Legion’s box. When sitting at my desk, I just have to take a glance to the right to admire their figure.

What makes this even better is that my Legion items are actually arranged in a way that forms a triangle (quite fitting since the symbol of the Geth Consensus - or at least the Geth Armory - is also a triangle). Technically, this is more a coincidence than anything else, since I just put them wherever there was space in my room. xD However, I like to view it in the same way as Legion perfectly blending in with the dark blue and black shades of my room (my comfort colors): It was meant to be.

And that’s how I met Legion - granted, my relationship with them has many more facets, but if I was supposed to write down all of that, I could fill an entire book.

With fictosexuality being recognized as a thing, people have become somewhat more open to the idea that you can legitimately fall in love with a fictional character. Nevertheless, I'm perfectly aware that many people probably consider my relationship with Legion impossible on multiple levels.

"You can't love a fictional character - that's not real love."

"You can't love a robot - it can't reciprocate your love."

"You can't romance Legion in Mass Effect 2 - that's not possible."

However, I somehow found a way to overcome all of these various tiers of impossible, and the result was an experience that was so sweet, so intimate, and so special that it’s beyond any description.

I will openly admit there are some things that are, and will most likely forever remain, practically and realistically impossible - like, I’m not going to stand here and claim that I would ever be able to physically meet Legion, in our reality. However, with just enough creativity and imagination, many things can be made possible - and even if Legion is not real, my feelings for them are.