#atging

[cupidologys]

⸻ CH. SEVEN; BELLADONNA MORNINGS

pairing: dazai x reader (fantasy au)

warnings: mentions/themes of drugs

chapter list: this is CHAPTER SEVEN of a multi-chapter fic series. PLEASE read the previous chapters before this one!

link to previous chapters: ATGING

word count: 1.8k

+ + + + + + + + + + + +

The poison will not kill you.��

It will not kill me. 

It will not kill me. 

It will not kill me. 

A steady mantra. One that you repeat in your head over and over again. It’s not quite successful at dismantling your fear. 

The clear poison sits in a small glass pot, sealed shut by a wooden cork. There is no more than two ounces in the container, but you have a sinking feeling that such an insignificant amount could drown you if you let it. 

You grasp the top with your hand, apply even steady pressure, and pull. The cork pops off without much resistance.

Your speeding heart accelerates until it twists into a feeling not unlike a heart attack. Sweat rolls down your forehead in beads as you brace yourself. With hands far from stable, you turn the vial to its side, letting only a singular droplet fall from its rim and onto the wooden spoon below. Such a small amount could so easily be mistaken for a drop of rainwater. Unassuming and deadly. 

Your hands are still trembling even as you bring it to your lips. Your heart thunders in your ears and your face flushes as you try not to hurl. Time stretches to what feels to be an eternity, but is likely only a few seconds. It is a miracle that you are able to even lift the spoon to your lips with how badly you are shaking. 

3… 2… 1…

The crystal liquid touches your tongue.

Fire runs through you. Burning, searing, excruciating. You collapse onto the stone floor, mouth agape as you draw in heaving breaths. It is torture. Your innards are ablaze. Melting from the inside out. 

Holy shit. 

Holy shit. 

Holyshitholyshitholyshitholyshit—!

The pain is so unbearable that words and sound refuse to come out of your mouth. All you can do is writhe in silent agony, your mind screaming for the torture to stop. 

It eventually does. The relief is so welcome…so sweet that you feel your entire body, weighed down by exhaustion and drenched in sweat, physically relax. You lay on your side for a little while more, taking deep, full breaths, before your mind fully clears. You are still fatigued, but it seems you have recovered from the worst of the physical trauma.

You shudder. The strange mixture of poison is potent, yes, but you never anticipated such visceral pain. You dread the following weeks, your body already tensing in fear at the thought of having to experience it again.

But it must be done. Every agonizing drop is one step closer to an almost unattainable goal. A goal that you must achieve, no matter the sacrifice. And a hefty one it shall be. 

You glance at yourself in the mirror and balk at the person staring back at you. God, your skin…pale couldn’t even begin to describe it. It looks like every ounce of blood was drained from your body. Undertones of blue and purple mar the translucent surface. You run a hand along your wrist, up your lower arm. The veins are so prominent. It’s a wonder you’re still awake. The harsh bags under your eyes definitely don’t help your case. The weeks of restless nights are quickly catching up to you. 

“I really couldn’t have found a less painful poison, could I?” 

When no one but the empty silence answers, you sigh and stash the bottles away. 

Thankfully, Dazai is gone for the next few days on an expedition. Without any distractions, you can properly recuperate. Your body is still experiencing some of the aftershocks of the poison. Other than the fact that you feel like absolute shit, your hands also haven’t stopped trembling. Your mouth is strangely dry as well, and you’re positive you feel a migraine coming on. 

With a shaky inhale, you slowly trudge your way to your soft, incredibly inviting bed and practically collapse onto the cushions. Within seconds, you’re out, drifting off into a dreamless sleep. 

You are jolted awake by loud banging sounds. Someone’s at the door, and it seems they are desperately trying to break it down with how hard they’re hitting it. 

“Y/N! Open this door!” 

Dazai?

He shouts your name again and the door shakes in protest at his strikes. The noise. It’s all too much. Your head is ringing and ringing and ringing and ringing—

“I will kick down this damned door!”

“Just wait!” You call out, coughing at the scratchy pain in your throat. Your voice comes out weirdly hoarse as you try to stop his yelling. Your vision is swimming. 

“Now!”

Fuck. 

You drag yourself out of bed and groan at the sudden motion. The whole world is swimming, actually. 

Another loud bang. 

You are genuinely going to kill him. 

Thankfully, the curtains are closed, staving off the brightness of either the moon or sun—you aren’t sure which. You had a strong feeling the light would have made the pain in your head even more unbearable. 

“I’m coming, I’m coming. Just give me—!” You barely have the handle turned all the way before the door is violently flung open. You stumble, the momentum lurching you forward as the door swings out. 

Dazai stands before you, surrounded in a cold fury that is freezing the air.. It quickly wakes you up. 

“What in the hell are you doing?” 

He stares at you, eyes roving across your face as he inspects you. Whatever he is looking for, he does not find. With a sharp breath, he sweeps past you and into the room. A wave of his hand brings forth three Kingsguard; tall imposing gentlemen clad in shining battleplate and deep red ornament. Two of them come to stand by your side, hands resting on their encrusted scabbards, forming a flank. 

“Find it,” Dazai commands. 

The third guard walks forward… and rips open your cabinet doors. Papers fly into the air before falling haphazardly to the floor, making a mess of your desk. 

You’re struck with a bolt of sheer panic. 

“What? You can’t do that. Hey! You can’t do that!”

“Guards.”

The two men beside you shift to block your advancement. They each have a hand on your shoulder, solid but gentle. 

“You piece of shit. How dare you?” You hiss, venom dripping from your words. 

“Search the room. Everything. Bring me what you find.” Dazai’s voice is cold. Strange. He looks genuinely angry. 

He can’t do this. 

“No! Let me go!” You shriek, struggling against the bulky arms clamped around you. The men prevent you from moving even an inch forward. 

Dazai doesn’t look at you. His attention is too focused on what he is searching for. 

The poison. The vials. 

No no no no no no no….

If he’s looking for poison… if he finds it—

A guard hurries up to Dazai, holding something in his palm. The vial. The white belladonna.  

No. 

Dazai nods. The knight hands the bottle over and he inspects it, twisting it between his fingers. Dazai stills, watching the liquid splash against the glass case. 

A tense second passes. 

“Continue searching.”

The guard nods and scurries away, placing the vial on a random shelf before continuing the hunt. 

Your knees almost buckle from relief, but you catch yourself and manage to steady your breathing. 

Dazai steps up to you, face inches from yours. “Where is it?”

“Where is what?” You answer, exasperated. Your breathing is heavy and in bursts, unlike Dazai’s controlled coldness. You want to break that composure down, piece by piece. 

He doesn’t answer you. Instead, his eyes flit across your face, probing for any hint of deception. You are all too confused. He finds none. Dazai steps aside, head dropping backward as he stares at the ceiling for a moment to gather his thoughts. He lets out a long exhale before waving a hand, dismissing the guards. 

The instant they let you go, you storm up to Dazai, fury rolling off of you in heated waves. It takes all of your control not to snap his neck with your bare hands. Your breathing is short and laboured. If anger was visually palpable, there would be steam curling from your skin. 

There is not a hint of remorse in his expression. 

Oh, propriety be damned. 

With one swift movement, you whip out a small dagger—the one hidden in your boot—and fling it towards Dazai in blind anger. The blade flies past his face, barely missing his eye, and sticks into the wooden panel behind him. 

You curse your wobbly aim. The sick effects have not yet fully subsided. 

Dazai blinks. You merely stare back at him, anger not subsided in the slightest. Wordlessly, he turns, plucks the dagger from the wall, and inspects it with interest. 

“How violent.” He twirls the dainty thing between his fingers before turning to smirk at you. “I like it.”

Your hands are shaking. Out of anger? Adrenaline? Anxiety? A mix of them all, most likely. 

“What a pity you moved at that last second. So scared of losing an eye?” 

He quirks an eyebrow. “Would one measly eye truly satisfy you?”

“No. I deal with equivalent exchange. An eye for an eye…” You tilt your head, gaze blank as you mentally push away unpleasant memories. “And a head for a head.”

Dazai shifts. A flash of sadness cuts across his face before he looks away. 

You straighten, jaw clenched. Unprepared and unwilling to face his emotions. Whatever he feels, whether it be guilt or confusion or delight in manipulating you, is none of your concern. 

“Are you going to apologize for what just occurred?” You ask, effectively changing the topic. 

“The door was locked.”

You don’t even remember locking it. You must’ve done it before ingesting the poison. 

You raise your arms and sweep them wide, gesturing at the space around you.“And? It is my room.”

Dazai’s eyes widen in disbelief. “Do you not…?”

When you merely stare at him in blank confusion, he throws his hands up and begins to pace the floor in agitation. 

“You have been asleep for an entire week! You have been locked up in here, unchecked upon—I swear I will deal with those traitors shortly—and unresponsive to over an hour of my calls!”

Your right eye twitches. “And that gives you the right to invade my privacy?”

“I was concerned,” he answers plainly. 

“I have no need for your concern. It is misplaced.”

“No it is not,” he responds sharply. 

You rub the back of your neck and sigh. There’s no point in attempting to argue with him—not when his stubbornness could bore a hole through steel with its sheer will. 

“What were you looking for then? You owe me that answer, at least.”

Dazai hesitates. “It…” he frowns and his brows crinkle, as if he was trying to formulate his thoughts. 

You stand there, arms crossed, waiting. “Well?”

“A certain…substance.”

You blink. “Drugs?”

He hesitates again. “…Yes. I was searching for a drug.”

—

˚ · . tags: @bababahannah @zjarrmiii @aiizenn @emyyy007 @letsliveagaintoday @lacunanonymoused @bejeweledgirl @nat-the-gayass-down-bad-mf

[redhairedgirl95]

All that glitters is not gold

Chapter 11 - The war, the aftermath, the present

The war is over. And love ... is it over too?

Helloooooo, winxers! <3 <3 <3

I am back! Here to hand you the last (</3) chapter of this prequel fic I've loved so much. Fear not, there will be more Radius & Luna or DivorcedLovers in the future. I a deeply sorry to have kept you waiting for so long, but work has been and still is incredibly challenging this year, and I've only now found the right time, headspace and inspiration to run my fingers on the keyboard and type the last chapter. I thank you all for reading and following me on this journey.

Soon I'll start working on Enchanted moments season 3 (my favorite season!!!) and I hope I'll see you there too.

As always, asks are always open)<3 Leave a comment if you can, receiving that little notification does wonders for my self-esteem and makes me smile as Stella does, a full smile that can light up the sky <3

Love you all, see you on the next adventure <3

[redhairedgirl95]

Radius and Luna

You know what trope I wanna see more of? Couples who have been married forever who are estranged but still in love but estranged. You know me better than any other person on earth. I haven't seen you in three years. I never stopped loving you. If I have to spend another minute in your presence I will murder you. I'm hurt and I need you right here with me. God you're such a dumbass. You're the only one I trust to do this job. I want you out of my sight.

[haridraws]

snippet of something from patreon

[llitchilitchi]

short little comic I drew in lectures

given Alexander's tendency to work a lot and sleep very little, especially earlier in his life, he likely had a tendency to doze every free moment he got (based off my own habit of falling asleep at my work table all the time) - and I wanted to draw something with it

[shihlun]

Hôjin Hashiura

- Mitsugetsu / Honeymoon

1984

[goldenpinof]

[official-die-hauptstadt]

[chickenkurage]

In another life...? (ATG Highschool AU)

Alan (President of the Literature Club)

DJ (Vice-President of the Literature Club)

Mary "Satin" (President of the Fencing Club)

"In another world where Alan, DJ and Mary are friends and they we're never a victim of society........."

About this...AU?

Alan had many male suitors because many students thought he was a girl, while Mary attracted many women due to her position as the fencing club president and her charming smile. As for DJ, he had no romantic prospects. In short, he had no "bitches" nor "hoes"

Mary will never be called Satin.

In this AU, Mary and DJ are childhood friends and had collectively decided to befriend and bother Alan every day until eventually he joined them, and they became a trio.

Mary is able to express more emotions because of DJ, she grew into a person who likes to smile and make people laugh.

In a sleepover, Mary and DJ always sandwich Alan in the bed, and in the end, Alan gets no sleep at all because he's squished between the two of them.

Alan has more than one koala who likes to hug him (*whisper* DJ and Mary)

Koala number one: Mary, Koala number two: DJ and the tree branch: Alan

ATG Highschool AU? Want more? If you want to set yourself free from the cage of sadness.

Also! Do you guys also want us to create a happy AU of CS AU? Just like ATG's *wink* - S

[dystopiandramaqueen]

I am really proud of @abovethegaragepodcast for speaking the truth.

Listening to your new episode now.

Thank you for being our voice at this difficult moment.

Saying uncomfortable things- succinctly and clearly.

I know the writers don't care.

But I know they listen to you.

And I'm glad you've put our response on the record.

Thank you for this episode.

And all you've done for the fandom over the years 🖤

[god-mouths]

youve heard of blorbo from show now get ready for blorbo from history books

[cupidologys]

⸻ CH. SIX; A HAVEN FOR ONE IS A HAVEN FOR NONE

pairing: dazai x f!reader (fantasy au)

warnings: mentions/themes of war and violence

chapter list: this is CHAPTER SIX of a multi-chapter fic series. PLEASE read the previous chapters before this one or you will be very lost!!

link to previous chapters: prologue

word count: 1.6k

+ + + + + + + + + + + +

Dinner is interrupted by the screams of dying men. You are halfway through your second flute of champagne and getting increasingly irritated at Dazai’s tardiness when the world outside explodes in a kaleidoscope of smoke and flames. At first, you are unable to grasp the situation when the attacks strike, but as you slowly turn to the looming floor-to-ceiling windows sprawled across the wall to your left, you swiftly become all-too aware of the current reality. The glass panels act as a clear, unfiltered lens to the horrors unfolding. Each succeeding blast is powerful enough that their tremors breach the palace walls, splitting open the floor tiles. In just two minutes time, you count three in total. 

Dazai still has not arrived for dinner. 

BOOM!

Four in total. 

The city—no—the Kingdom is on fire, and terror spreads across the land. It is so dark, so palpable, you can feel its heavy weight in your veins. All you can do is sit and stare through the safety of the palace, nestled on a hilltop miles above the carnage ravaging its nation’s people. 

The servants gasp and shriek, panic blinding them to reason. Warning bells ring in cacophony. The explosions do not stop. 

Five. 

A gentle but firm hand grips your shoulder. “Your Highness, we must leave. It is dangerous–!” The butler never finishes his sentence. One moment he is urging you to action, the next he is frozen. The elderly man gasps, and it is the last thing he does before dropping to the floor. Dead. 

You shoot out of your seat, hands trembling. Blood seeps from a huge gaping wound in his chest. From it, a large hunk of metal juts out. A mere moment ago, the object had flown through the window so fast that if not for its size, you would have mistaken it for a hunting arrow. But an arrow it could never be. The horribly large instrument’s identity was clear to you. The butler had been killed by a stray fragment of shrapnel.

Blood-curdling screams echo across the room. The servants, faced with the corpse, all scramble out in fear and disgust. You are the only one left in the dining hall. Well. You and the dead man, together in the dining hall that no longer resembles its namesake. Glass litters the floor, rained down when the debris broke through. Meals and flutes of wine have found new homes on the ground, the latter mixing with the pungent iron puddle pooling around the butler. It is a disaster. Carnage. Violence in its rawest form.  

Six. 

You start to feel sick. 

The door bursts open, just another background noise in the midst of chaos. In a daze, you reach for a table corner to steady yourself, not bothering to check who had just rushed in. You don’t need to. The footsteps are all too familiar—Dazai has finally arrived. 

“[Name]. You’re alright. Thank god.” Dazai’s tone slightly wobbles, but the panic in his eyes subsides when he sees you. “Come with me. There is a safe passage–“

Dazai reaches out to you, a gentle hand resting on your shoulder, but you wrench yourself out of his grasp. 

“No.”

He shakes his head. “[Name], I have no time for any stubbornness you may–”

Again, you refute him. “I’m not being stubborn! How dare you accuse me of such a thing in this situation.”

“Then what will you call this?” He gestures to your stillness, unmoving even as Dazai gently tugs on your arm. “Just…orderly defiance? Disobedience? Pure and utter rebellion? Should I go on?!”

“I do not need nor want to enter whatever safe house you have conjured up for emergencies such as this,” you scoff. 

“Are you even hearing yourself? Yes, precisely! An emergency. Which means you have to evacuate somewhere safe!”

Safe? A man has just died in front of you while trying to help you. The earth is giving way to explosives; craters forming underneath fresh footprints and innocent flesh. There is nowhere safe. 

“Leave me be. Go attend to your people.”

Dazai falters. “Are you joking?” At your serious expression, he steps closer. Incredulity colours the sharp planes of his face. “Did you hit your head?”

“With what motive would I have to joke in these circumstances?”

“Then why are you asking for such a ridiculous thing? We must ensure your safety. I must.”

“My safety? Despite…” You wave your hand at the body on the floor. “This? My safety is not a priority. It should not even be a concern.”

“What on earth are you talking about? You are the throne’s–”

“I am one person! One. Meanwhile, hundreds of people are dying as we stand here and argue. Your people. I may despise you, but I won’t take that hatred out on civilians. I will not hide away in a corner while others are suffering. I refuse to.”

Dazai’s demeanor softens. Just a tad. “What exactly do you expect to do?”

“To investigate. To aid the injured and frightened. To help in any way possible and end this madness.” You run a hand through your hair, the sounds of assault has stopped, but the screams from the aftermath still echo the skies. Every moment stood arguing with Dazai is another moment lost. You itch to run. 

“That is beyond your capability and not your responsibility.”

You ignore the slight dig from the first part. “Then what is? Am I not one half of the crown? Partial to this nation’s leadership?”

“You are, but–”

“But what? What could possibly–”

“You are not one of us! You are…”

An outsider. 

You take a step back. “I never claimed to be one of you.” It is not something you’d ever desire either—to belong to a traitor's nation. 

“[Name]. That’s not what I meant.” Dazai reaches out, but freezes at your retreat. His arm lowers and he sighs defeatedly. 

“Is it not? You’re right. I’m not one of you. I am from the Empire���from enemy lands. An invader. Not even a polished crown and fancy title could erase that, could it?”

“That is… besides the point.” You both know it is not. “You cannot go out there.”

Your foot taps against the hardwood floor, impatient and driven by nerves. “And why not?”

“Who do you think is attacking us?”

“I…” you falter. A moment passes. “I don’t know.”

For almost a millennia, the Kingdom has had no enemies other than the Empire, but the nations had eventually come to a peace agreement. That was the entire point of your marriage to Dazai.

“The people here have lived under the cloak of war for decades. Years and years of devastation have turned them against the Empire. In their minds—even if it’s untrue—your nation is the perpetrator. As it always has been to them. Even if we are allies on paper, the victims of the past will not forget such brutalities. If you go out there…”

Shit. He’s right. 

You sigh, relenting. “I’ll likely be torn to shreds just for the blood running through my veins.”

He winces. “Unfortunately.”

You slump into a chair behind you, hands rubbing against your weary face in an attempt to weather away the fatigue. “Then if not my father, who is responsible? You must have a guess, at least.”

Dazai’s eyebrows scrunch together like they always do whenever he thinks. “I… yes. Yes, of course. It is most likely a rebellion group acting against the royal lineage. One of the four noble families’ doing. I will assign someone to investigate immediately.”

You swallow, unconvinced. There is no indication that Dazai is lying, but for whatever reason, doubt stirs unsettlingly in your gut. You push it down in favor of gaining more information. 

“The head houses of the nobility? They oppose the crown? I thought they were pillars of the monarchy—there to maintain your throne.”

Dazai lets out a sharp bark of laughter, humorless at best. “My father’s throne. Not mine.  These days, those vultures will do anything to pick away at my reign until there is nothing left. Then, they’ll swoop in, laying claim to the country and its fortunes.”

You shift uncomfortably, unsure of how to respond or react to his sincerity. So you decide to change the subject instead. 

“We’re wasting time. The attacks have stopped, but the people still require… your help.” 

Not mine, you think. They would sooner accept my death than my aid. 

Dazai opens his mouth, no doubt to protest, but is interrupted by the frantic call of another. A short soldier with sullied armour rushes inside, chest heaving from exertion. 

“Sire!” The young man closes the distance with short but swift strides, straw blonde hair matted to his forehead from sweat and grime. 

“Kenji. Report.”

“Six devices. Each manually detonated.” The soldier salutes. 

The news falls upon you like a sack of stones. 

“You’re telling me…?” 

Kenji grimaces at the low snarl his liege makes, and perhaps at the fury in your eyes as well. “Yes, sire. The explosives were set off by suicide bombers. They were all in public, high-traffic, civilian areas.”

Oh god. Oh god!

“How many?” Dazai sounds murderous. 

Kenji looks down, the soldier seeming much younger in that instance. A child. One that has no business in battlefields and suits of armour. “Four-hundred and thirteen. That we know of.”

“Capture?”

“One. Tried to bite his pill, but we got him in time.”

“Cellar B?”

“Correct, sire.”

Dazai nods slowly. “Send Fukuzawa down to meet me there. Tell him it is High category.”

Without another word or glance to anyone, the king turns and walks out, leaving you to wade in a deep, numb tension that seems to want to engulf you in its misery. Kenji hurriedly scurries after him, and the moment you are alone, your knees hit the floor. Deep breaths turn into strangled heaves, and a familiar despair overwhelms you. 

With your head in your hands, for the first time since arriving, you let yourself weep.

—

˚ · . tags: @zjarrmiii @aiizenn @emyyy007 @letsliveagaintoday @lacunanonymoused @bejeweledgirl @nat-the-gayass-down-bad-mf

[redhairedgirl95]

All that glitters is not gold

Chapter 10 - Fading lights

We are reaching the end of the line. There are cracks and the light ... can't shine forever.

Happy (late) Easter, winxers! I'm so sorry to have made you wait so long for the update, but it's here! I hove you've enjoyed it and can't wait to hear (read) your thoughts.

Thank you for sticking around <3

[just-a-drawing-bean]

A Dazzling Game of Uno

Short drabble about Sun, Moon, and Razzle in an enthralling game of Uno below the cut.

Word count: 1,380

“Uno”

Razzle leans back in his chair, folding one pair of arms behind his head, the other pair resting on the round table in front of him, clasped atop his last remaining card. Groans broke out from the two bots surrounding him as they stared at the blue four sitting on the pile of cards.

“There’s no way you can be this good at Uno. You must be cheating.” Grumbles Moon while throwing his few remaining cards face down in frustration. He looks off to the side, frowning while ignoring Razzle’s smug grin.

Sun slouches forward in accepted defeat, rays flaring slightly as he adds on, “Yeah! This is the fourth time in a row.” 

“Now, now.” Razzle’s soothing voice cuts through the whines of the celestial pair, “You would accuse me of cheating in my own casino?” He quirks an eyebrow at the two then gives a slight chuckle. “And at Uno much less. Now, I'm not one to cheat but I’d certainly never do so in my favorite game.” Sun groans lightly in frustration, running his hand over his face and rays while Moon only crosses his arms and narrows his eyes. 

Razzle leans in slightly, uncrossing the arms behind his head to prop his faceplate on his hands. His grin stretching wider by the second. He waits a beat before speaking, squinting his eyes playfully, he taunts. “Look boys, I haven't won yet. Sunshine, it's your turn.” 

Eager to get the crushing defeat over with, Sun haphazardly lays down a card at random, a green four. Suddenly Moon perks up the slightest amount before smoothing his expression back to the disgruntled look he wore seconds before. Nonchalantly he places a green card on the top of the deck while making direct eye contact with his ever-so-slightly taller brother. 

“Skip.” 

Razzle tilts his head in response, unbothered. “Prolonging your loss, Moonlight?” He looks over at their solar brother, “Well, It's back to you Sunshine. I hope you’ve still got some fire in you, It would only be fitting.” Sun rolls his eyes at Razzle’s tease, instead focusing on the cards he has and the cards he hopes Moon has. 

Typically, counting cards would be a sin in gambling, but this was a friendly match between brothers. All of them have perfect memory, as animatronics, so they let themselves indulge in card counting. This time. Sun runs the calculations, the possibilities of what his brothers’ cards could be, and hopes that he can set Moon up in a way to foil Razzle. Even if he doesn't win, at least he can have the satisfaction of knocking his youngest brother down a peg. 

Hoping that luck was in his favor, Sun places a wild card and calls the color red. He knows Moon has a red, but it is uncertain what Razzle’s last card is. Even knowing the cards in play can't guarantee the final color. All attention falls on Moon. He silently thanks his solar counterpart for setting him up. Moon holds his last three remaining cards up as if contemplating a move he already has planned before placing down a red reverse. Two sets of optics flick to the solar animatronic. Sun straightens his back and gives a sneaky grin, his rays turning slowly. With a quick flick of his wrist, He deposits a yellow reverse card on the top of the stack. 

“Having fun ping-ponging your turns?” Razzle asks, amusement coloring his voice. He rhythmically taps his fingers on the table and then shifts his piercing gaze to Moon. “Let's hope you have something more interesting up your sleeve, hm?” Moon lets out a soft chuckle, shuffling his two remaining cards idly in his hand before replying, “Nah, I don't have any other fancy tricks, just wishing on a miracle.” 

Moon plucks one of his cards and gingerly places it. A red zero. He cooly looks up at his brother, anticipating a defeat, but hoping for a win.

“Uno.”

Razzle lets his gaze slowly travel over his two brothers. His grin doesn't falter. He doesn't need to look at his card to know it's a winning card. He simply tilts his head and flicks his rays in a circle before reaching out to grab a new card from the deck. “Well,” Razzle cooly directs towards Sun. “It's your move.”

“OH! OH!” Sun exclaims excitedly, his eyes opening fully and brightening. “Oh Moon, we’ve got him!” He shakes his hands around lightly and his rays spin with vigor. Moon looks over at Sun and his grin quirks up a bit at the edges, assured in his victory. His raspy voice drifts out, “Hold on there Sunny, it's still your turn. I haven’t won yet.” Sun quickly calms his composure and settles on a passive grin. 

Taking a deep synthetic breath, Sun trilled, “Ok, ok! I'm calm. Oh, I hope this card works for you.” 

Pretending to pick at his fingers, Moon nonchalantly replied. “Whatever card will do, Sunny, as long as there's no negative effect.”

Razzle glanced over at Moon, voice box crackling to life. “You better not be going out on a plus four. That's against the rules you know.” The two bots held each other’s gaze for a beat before Moon casually leaned back in his chair, red eyes gleaming with amusement. He replied, “I’m well aware of the rules, Razz. Don't get your wires in a twist.”  

Razzle let out a short chuckle and shook his head lightly, turning back to Sun, waiting for the next play. Both his sets of rays slightly pulling in and out in a lethargic pulsing pattern. Sun gave a bright energetic smile that only he could give before vigorously slapping a red nine down. “Ok!” He proclaimed, “Moony it's up to you!” Moon took his time drawing out his well-earned victory. He sat up in his chair and swept imaginary dust off his ruffled baby blue button-up. 

Turning first towards his bright older brother, he saw Sun swaying in excitement as he anticipated Moon to win in this brotherly game of Uno. Moon felt a fond wave of affection for the one who had been with him all his life and gave him a confident grin before turning towards his younger brother. Razzle might be hard to read while in the middle of a game, but Moon knew him well enough to see the love and pride hidden in his seemingly unbothered expression. He was proud of them, not just about the game, but for how far the three of them had made it, together.

Moon gently reached towards his final card and flipped it over revealing a wild card. He placed it on Sun’s red nine and stated. “I win.” 

Sun immediately stood up and rejoiced, “FINALLY! Oh thank goodness Moony, you did it!” he turned towards his youngest brother adding on, “Razzie you know I love you, but it certainly is disheartening to lose so many games in a row.” He playfully narrowed his eyes at that. “Of course, you wouldn't know that, you hardly lose for long.” Sun began to tut at him while playfully shaking his finger. Razzle stood up as well, the rounds of games ending for the night. He chuckled lightly and replied, “You’d certainly be correct on that, so let us end the night on a high for you two.” Crossing his lower set of arms while the upper rest on his hips he gave a genuine smile and tilted his head towards his darker brother.

“Moonshine.” He praised, “Good game.”  

“A good game indeed.” Came the low-toned reply.

Moon was enjoying his victory, a smug grin plastered on his face, foot tapping to some unseen song, arms crossed in triumph. Razzle hadnt seen him look so pleased in quite a while. Building up to Moon’s win had definitely made it all the sweeter. And golden Sun, he was just as ecstatic as if he himself had won, not their lunar brother. His rays spun wildly and his eyes shone with excitement. Sun could hardly contain his joy as his body shook and swayed. He’d throw any game if it meant they were happy.

“Come on then,” He announced while turning to leave the private room, “ We’ve got a casino to run.”

[haridraws]

small drawing of a bit of marsh I got excited about

[llitchilitchi]

alexander can get quite clingy at times

teaser page from a 9 page comic I'm working on