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#she still looks after abandoned chao in the garden!
xcherricutie · 17 days
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🌺 drift away 🌺
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[Lucifer Morningstar x Reader]
[Part One] [Part Two] [Part Three] [Part Four]
[Word Count - 1.4k]
[Tags: Angst, songfic (I can't help myself)]
[Notes: My first Hazbin Hotel one shot. Still new to Tumblr, and new to writing one shots, I'm used to writing longer form. Hope this post is up to the standard. It's like, 1 in the morning and I have work tomorrow morning, enjoy. I will hopefully get out a part that's kinda like a prequel, I wanna do Other Friends lol. Obvs inspired by Steven Universe.]
Let’s go in the garden, 
You’ll find something waiting, 
Right there where you left it, 
Lying upside down...
Excitement shot through your system, your feet dragging along the ground as a giggle bubbled from within you. You paused every few seconds as the man before you looked back, a single brow raised at your antics. He took a few steps forward, the sounds of your feet tapping as you followed along filling the air. He sighed, turning around. His eyes, golden sclera and deep red irises, landed on your own, though unfocused. Almost as if looking straight through you. 
He’d tried to keep you here, to stop you from following. He knew you were only doing what you were meant to do. You were made for him. An angel born purely to keep Lucifer in check, to keep him happy. You loved being by his side, you loved spending time with him on Earth, in the garden. You thought he loved it too. You thought he loved you. 
Taking a deep breath, Lucifer forced a smile for you. His wings softly flapped behind him, lifting him off the ground, raising him to be just above your face level. His finger tapped your nose, his enchanting voice coming through. “Here in the garden, let’s play a game, I’ll show you how it’s done.” 
“Here in the garden, stand very still,” His hands on your shoulders, you looked up at him with a beaming smile, happy to spend time with your love. 
“This’ll be so much fun,” Your voice, soft and delicate spoke, earning a smile from him. Your heart fluttered at his smile, his cheeks crinkling slightly as his eyes closed, appearing relaxed. At least to you. But appearances weren’t all what they seemed. 
“And then he smiled, that’s what I’m after,” You clenched a fist, pressing it to your chest, trying to calm your fast beating heart. You could feel the eyes of the demon behind you on you, the very demon that came from him. “The smile in his eyes, the sound of his laughter.” 
You could see the scene replaying before you all over again. You could even hear the soft chuckle that had once escaped his lips, his hands softly squeezing your shoulders. You knew she could see it too, but you didn’t want to acknowledge the memories that had begun to rush back to you, memories from long ago. Memories you’d wished you could forget. 
“Happy to listen, happy to play, happily watching him drift away...” 
Lucifer’s grip loosened on your shoulders, his wings flapping as he pulled away, leaving you to your little game. You watched him fly into the bright sky, disappearing in the light of the sun with another. But you didn’t think anything of it, because he loved you. He was playing with you, spending time with you. 
The girl behind you could only watch in silence, her throat squeezing closed as she tried to keep her inner turmoil to herself. She knew exactly where she was, exactly where you had taken her. The wilted bushes, the out-of-control bramble, the spiraling roots through the grass. This was the long-abandoned Garden of Eden. This was where it all began. Where Charlie’s father, Lucifer, had started humanity’s spiral into chaos, starting with you. 
“Happily waiting, all on my own, under the endless sky...” You glanced up to the stars dotting the night sky. Everything seemed to be happening so fast. You never wanted anyone to see this, you never even wanted to see it again yourself. Yet, here you were, sharing your vulnerability with the person you’d come down to Hell to kill. The princess of Hell herself, and Lucifer’s daughter, Charlie. You had let her in, showing her your memories. “Counting the seconds, standing alone, as thousands of years go by...” 
The roots had begun to cling to your still form, your body aching, your wings begging to be spread once more. Your hair, once something you had been proud of, now in shambles, grown out nearly to your feet. Deep bags had sunk into the skin under your eyes, a telling sign of your exhaustion. For how much longer must this game go on, you wondered, but never dared voice it. You were meant to make him happy, right? 
“Happily wondering, night after night, is this how it works? Am I doing it right?” Your fists clenched, unable to bear looking at your old self any longer, watching as your sickened form disappeared, turning into speckles of gold in the wind. You stepped forward into the place where you had once showed Charlie your older memories, resuming the familiar stance you had been in for over ten thousand years. “Happy to listen, happy to stay, happily watching him drift away...” 
A cool breeze blew through your hair, reminding you of the countless nights you took solace in the feeling, the only thing that reminded you that you were still alive, still conscious. Your eyes met Charlie’s, a faint smile on her face as you spotted the tears welling in her eyes. You turned away with the breeze, taking a step in the opposite direction of Charlie, startling her as she was quick to follow. 
“You keep on turning pages, for people who don’t care, people who don’t care about you,” 
You walked along the edge of a pond, legs brushing against the soft petals of the flowers surrounding the pond. The breeze pulled along the flowers, a long dead water lily being ripped from the ground. Grasping the weakened petals of the flower in your hand, you turned to Charlie with a soft smile, placing the flower in her blonde hair that felt just the same as his. Just as you pulled your hand away, turning your attention to the water, the flower crumpled in her hair, falling apart. 
“And still, it takes you ages, to see that no one’s there, see that no one’s there, see that no one’s there, everyone’s gone on without you...” Your eyes drifted back to the spot you had become a part of for so long. The spot you thought would one day claim you and set you free from the pain that he’d left behind in you. Charlie’s eyes followed, her eyes widening to see more of your memories, more of what her father had caused. 
“Finally, something.” 
The two seraphims, Sera and Emily, stood before you, fear and sorrow written across their faces. Emily ripped roots that had grown to hold you down tightly off, while Sera ran her fingers through your broken hair, tears streaming down her face. 
“Finally, news, about how the story ends.” 
Sera rambled on and on about everything you had missed. About how humanity had progressed. About the angels that had replaced you in society. Everybody thought you were dead, at the hands of the Devil. You didn’t understand any of it, not until she explained just what had happened, why you were even standing here, playing this game. 
“He isn’t an angel anymore, fallen long ago, leaving you for Lilith, and his brand-new daughter...” 
“Isn’t that lovely?” 
Tears streamed down Charlie’s face as she watched your younger self burst into tears, sobbing violently into Sera’s chest as she hugged you tightly, muttering useless apologies over and over. You cried and screamed, telling her to stop lying and to bring you to Lucifer, to end this game already. You begged and pleaded, telling her that it wasn’t like that, that he loved you, he asked you to stay and play with him. He couldn’t abandon you. You were his angel, his love. 
“Isn’t that cool?” 
You ignored the pain that squeezed your heart, watching as your memories faded in those familiar golden glimmers, begging that this would be the final time you’d have to see them. You ignored the hot tears that dripped down your cheeks, your emotions leaking through, escaping the tight hold you’d kept them in for so many years. 
“And isn’t that cruel? And aren’t I a fool to have happily listened, happy to stay, happily watching him drift, drift...” 
You squeezed a fist to your chest, your heart slowing down finally as you sighed deeply. This was the end. This garden, where everything had begun, would finally see the end of the story. Where you would finally let go of the memories that haunted you for ten thousand years, and move on with your life, putting an end to his little game. 
“Drift away...” 
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toulousewayne · 10 months
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Gotham City Sirens
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This is a concept for a Gotham City Series film in the DCU. This film will be apart of phase four. Due to flashpoint Harley Quinn will be recasted.
Synopsis:Posion Ivy and Harley Quinn team up with Catwoman to cause so much needed chaos in Gotham City’s underworld.
Release: November 16,2029
Runtime: 2 Hour, 36 Minutes
Rating: PG-13
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Cast:
Poison Ivy…………Holland Roden
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Harley Quinn…….Samara Weaving
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Catwoman/Selina Kyle…..Shay Mitchell
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Barbara Gordon/Batgirl…..Bailee Madison
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Commissioner “Jim” Gordon…..Stanley Tucci
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Oswald ”Penguin” Cobblepot…Timothy Spall
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Roland Daggett……..Toby Stephens
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————-
Concept Art:
Poison Ivy:
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Harley Quinn:
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Batgirl:
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*Catwoman suit is the same from Catwoman Season 2
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Plot:
Catwoman is on a job to steal government secrets. She’s in a high rise government agency building and collects the data. After escaping to the rooftops she informs her employer to attempts to have her assassinated. She barley escapes along with the data.
Harley and Ivy are on the lamb with several police and Argus agents after them. They use Harley’s remaining stolen weapons to escape. Its only after a frustrated Ivy uses her powers to cause an accident that lead to their escape into Gotham City.
Roland Daggett watches over Gotham from his penthouse. When he gets a phone call and he becomes enraged. He tells the person on the other line if they want this deal to see the light of day they’ll fix this mess or he will. And he returns to his calm self and returns to look at the window.
Batgirl is called to GCPD and is debriefed on Harley and Ivy’s return to the city. She tells Gordon she’s handling the city tonight and will find them.
Harley and Ivy are hiding out and trying to plan their next move.
Selina Kyle enters her old hideout hoping to uncover the data on the drive but it’s encrypted. She quickly gathers her belongings as leaves lucky before the hideout is blown up.
Batgirl watch the GCPD blimps and is able to pin point Harley location.
Catwoman decides she’s gonna need help if she wants to get the data off the drive as well as find out who’s trying to kill her.
Harley convinces Ivy that they don’t have to stay in hiding they just need to get a big enough score and leave the city.
Batgirl breaks into Ivy and Harley’s apartment and is quickly overwhelmed by Ivy’s new pheromones.
Selina visits and old friend to see if they can help her and is swiftly denied.
Harley and Ivy break into the Gotham Botanical Gardens to set up shop and work on a new toxin for their first heist.
Batgirl returns to to Batcave and tries to find out Ivy’s next move.
Ivy and Harley arrive at the old abandoned Orphanage in order to find this new villain who goes by the Riddler.
They are instructed to steal a bio weapon from Daggit Industries.
Catwoman attempts to steal the bio weapon and returns in Harley and Ivy.
Daggit pays the Penguin a visit and warns him why he’s still just a little man.
Batgirl researchs about the bio weapon and decides she’s gonna need help.
Ivy and Harley persuade Selina to help them in exchange for help taking down her employer.
Batgirl meets with the Lucius to help create a counter react to the bio weapon.
The Siren decided to find Daggit who’s gone into hiding in order to get the answers they need.
The Sirens break into Daggit’s mansion in order to take him down.
With Daggit dead, the Sirens decide to form a more permanent alliance between each other and decide to plan their next mission but they lose the bio weapon to Batgirl and plan to take over Gotham.
Post Credit:
Batgirl calls in help from some old friend and Black Canary asks her what’s their first plan. To find and stop the Sirens.
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rotzaprachim · 1 year
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TIMESTAMP 2021
She did not anger even when Ronan broke all three of their hurleys trying to smash in the lock to the chicken coup so the birds could be set free. Ronan was very good at breaking things. Declan wanted to tell him it was all pointless anyway, that nothing on this land could be set free while everything was their father, but he couldn’t.
Aurora called through the window what the ruckus was about and then held Ronan when he cried because some of the chickens were already bloody, scratching themselves against the sharp points of the coop’s wire from where he’d torn it from the posts, or else the angry shards of wood now littering the dirt. Ronan ate chicken pot pie and chicken nuggets shaped like dinosaurs without issue, but this sight of chaos, blood and feathers coating everything, destruction at his own hands, was too much for his sensibilities. He wanted to be a benevolent god.
and
It was an odd thing, living with a god.
A stranger thing still living with two of them.
One of the gods had a man cave with an old recliner where he did his godding, verb, passed out with some dirty magazine and M*A*S*H* reruns he still kept on VHS tape. The other god did his godding, also verb, in a bed that looked like a rocket ship, because he’d seen one in a catalogue and fancied it. The things he fancied the family tended to provide, because if they didn’t, he’d make them himself. He’d wanted a brother who wasn’t Declan, after all, and look where they all were now. Niall dreamed up magical toys for Ronan, books without words because Ronan hated reading, slinky dogs that walked on their own, magic farm wellies that went seven steps with every one. Aurora made lists and because she still wasn't sure about the internet, had Declan place the order for new X-box consoles and WII games and ugly tennis shoes in popsicle colors, dirt racing bikes and trampolines for the garden. Declan could have told them all it was useless, anyway, because Ronan would abandon them all to go out into the garden to play with sticks. But Declan saying that would have been useless, too. Money flowed in from his father’s work and out through every member of the Lynch family’s fingers like water, and the Barns were nothing if not a place to throw out unwanted rubbish, be the rubbish conjured from dreams or Toysrus.com. Far less expensive to lose a few thousand than have another dream walking about with some kind of dream-life in it, ticking away. It was an odd thing to live with gods.
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hopefulstarfire · 2 years
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Have some quick profiles for the yugioh ocs!!
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Katherine "Kat" Grace Mercer
She/her, 15-18, pan.
Stage name is Kat Pegasus.
Younger sister of Cecelia Pegasus.
Lost her sister and parents within a few months of each other at the age of 8. She has since lived with her godparents, Vance and Chelsea Griffin, and also tends to crash with her brother-in-law and godbrother often. She still goes back to her family ranch every so often to visit her Uncle Wes.
Duels with a plant based Deck. Her ace cards are Fallen Angel of Roses and Queen Angel of Roses.
Got to beta test Duel Monsters and it's one of her favorite things.
Seto was the only person to beat her and she has had an intense rivalry with him ever since they were 13. Then he loses to Yugi and her immediate thought is "Well, great, I gotta beat short stack here too."
Loves gaming, the color pink, fashion, baking, steak, Funny Bunny, her queen Dolly Parton and doing anything for the Aesthetic. Hates paparazzi, crowds, mushrooms, Weevil Underwood and having to cook anything that's not ramen.
Has a service dog (a German Shepherd) named Lola.
Wants to stream and play Duel Monsters for the rest of her life; has some worries about one day running Industrial Illusions herself.
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Iris Ophelia McGinnis
She/her (also will respond to they/them, may be more she/they actually), 19-22, demi bi.
Bastard child of Steven Nezbitt.
Lives with her Mom, Meredith, and her younger brother, River.
Tries to look after her Mom a lot, who deals with MS. She's also her beta reader since her Mom wants to try and become a writer and move away a bit more from the law world.
Met Seto and Mokuba when she was just shy of 14 when Nezbitt tried to arrange a marriage between her and Seto. This has since been called off since Seto took over the company and she views the boys as her brothers.
Doesn't really Duel, but does carry around a deck that's a mashup of cards so she can play with Mokuba and River. Seto is pissed she won't Duel him.
Is in school to become a nurse and is going to school off of scholarships and has some AP credits under her belt. She also works two part time jobs, one at a cafe/bakery and one at a bookstore.
Has one best friend she hangs out with during any free time she actually has and that's Alister...who is secretly not who she thinks he is.
Loves reading, thrift shopping, astronomy, gardening, baked potato soup, sitting in the park, comfy hoodies, quiet quality time and spamming her friends with tiktoks to let them know she's alive even if she's not feeling sociable. She hates porkchops, crowds, her job at the cafe, her deadbeat dad, weapons of destruction, bowling (bc she always loses and Seto makes fun of her for granny bowling) and sand.
Wants to become an APRN and later decides she's going to work in pediatrics!
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Maddox Ryder Griffin
He/him, 24-27 years old, bi.
Kat and Cecelia's godbrother and Maximillion's best friend. His parents are Chelsea and Vance.
Lives with his twin daughters, Dahlia and Dinah (5-8 years old), and Max, having moved in with him shortly after his ex-girlfriend, Paige, abandoned him and their daughters. Considers Kat more like his sister and Max like his brother than anything else.
Uses a Spellcaster Deck; his ace is Magician of Black Chaos.
Currently works for his family company, Griffin Security, and is the one in charge of I2s security, just directly above Croquet. He's also acted as tournament comissioner several times before, to help keep the very loose rules of the game instilled before it finally got real rules (which was the biggest relief for him ever).
Protective of Kat and Max both, but he's never afraid to call them on their shit when he needs to.
Also has a German Shepherd for a pet that's a few years older than Lola named Diesel.
Loves punk rock and heavy metal, Nickelback, sitcoms, cooking, crab legs, camping, swimming, getting tattoos, his pickup truck and singing. Hates when there's no structure/rules to games, even mild cheating, overly controlling people, artichokes, and any reason to have to wake up early on a Saturday morning.
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dcstruction · 1 year
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   ❝   and this is the map of my heart,           the landscape after creulty which is,          of course, a garden, which is a           tenderness, which is a room, a lover            saying Hold me tight, it’s getting cold.
           it’s dark and soggy, and way overhead           there’s this tiny, tiny circle of light           like a winter moon.          You die there . this place,              little by little, all by yourself.  ❞ 
                            - unknown . 
it’s the first crack of thunder that pierces through her skull - a thump that only ached more and more with each heart beat and it makes the brunette immediately flinch . by the look of her company’s face outside , the storm is also a surprise to them . the once straight hair now clung to her face in loose curls as the rain begins to pour and the crowd disperses in an unorganized chaos as it pitter patters against the thin roofs of the cheap booths set along the street . esther could have sworn that the radio forecast this morning mentioned clear skies ( and there might have been wind but this was no match ) because the weather now would have been enough for the female to have stayed home for the evening instead of visiting the street market for its last day .
 she clings to the first metal pole under the abandoned booth  as if its the only life source there is as the heavens open . there’s also a mother and a child in the same space , hands intertwined after having navigated the chaos that still ensued as others flooded into the only open shops near the event space .
one.
two.
three.
breathe .
it will be fine .
one ....
   and the voice continues . it’s intrusive - maybe even a stranger that isn’t welcomed - but it soon blends into her own voice and the anxiety folds around her and doesn’t let go .  she had never been so afraid of thunderstorms before ( especially when there was a whole season dedicated to tornadoes in texas ) but now the rapid rate of heart is not from running to shelter but from the paralyzing fear of the rumble coming from the sky . it’s scary ... almost like the monster that always slept under her bed ...
the monster that slept under her bed?
of course we decided to walk here and it’s raining.
of fucking course .
the fear is now replaced with a frustration that doesn’t quite make sense . esther hadn’t even walked from the house to the market but she’s suddenly annoyed that she’d have to walk through the cloudburst with a very energetic child and no umbrella .
what if he doesn’t like me back ?
i can’t forget . i really cannot forget . i cannot afford to forget .
what a relief .
where did she go? where is she ? i cannot -
it’s almost a scream that slips esther’s lips . the headache grows worse and worse with each passing moment . she knows she startles the little child who is next to her - the fear in his eyes growing cause now his fear is validated in her own outburst . it’s her body telling her many things  - it’s her voice at the front of her mind setting off the panic and then the calm only to change once again . it’s everything everywhere all at once. 
so she does the only one thing her mother taught her to do . esther mclean ran - she ran and ran until the headache became nothing more than a dull hangover .  it doesn’t fade but it’s not nearly as blinding when she’s made it home and it’s surely only her there . that’s the first time it’s quiet and probably the first time she felt in control of her own mind since the first lightening strike . 
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chublemon · 2 months
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In a realm where the vibrant hues of joy once danced in the air, the Enchanted Abandon now lay shrouded in the whispers of shadows. A place where the laughter of children had turned to the chilling Echoes of an abandoned wonderland, it was here that Gutsy, a living clown doll known as a Jevil, Roamed. His heart, once filled with the glee of a thousand smiles, now harbored a longing for the rare human companionship, a yearning that drove him to the edge of this forsaken realm.
Gutsy's eyes, those spiral orbs of wonder, had seen the world turn from light to dark. He wandered the desolate paths of the Enchanted Abandon, his heart's spiral eyes dreaming of the day a human might stumble into his life, a being as rare and precious as the tales of old.
In the quiet of the forest, he found such a creature, laid in the grass like a precious gem, still alive and waiting to be claimed. They have fallen asleep in a napping bed of whisper flowers
With a gentle yet firm grip, Gutsy cradled the human in his arms, his heart racing with the thrill of his impending treasure. He scurried back to his humble abode, a sanctuary amidst the chaos of the abandoned wonderland.
Sammy doesn't know what happened to her. One minute she was just walking through the local children's garden by the library. And the next thing she knows she's falling, a hole opening up under her.
The fall was a doozy. And it reminded her of Alice in wonderland almost, but like a slightly creepy version? With dark undertones and a slight chill to the world. She assumes it's a messed up dream, that she's hit her head.
Sammy has roamed for hours before she met some talking flowers. And they had invited her to take a nap with them as the forest sang a lullaby. And Sammy may be twenty-five, but with everything that happened. She assumed a nap wouldn't hurt, she thinks it's funny to be tired in a dream. But she settles down as the forest hums a soft and haunting tune. And she's asleep in no time.
****
Gutsy carries the woman to his small little cottage in the middle of the woods. It's colorful and cute and surrounded by non talking but rainbow flowers. A few plastic flamingos are scattered about too.
As Gutsy carried the sleeping beauty towards his home, a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. This could be the one, he thought to himself, the one who would change everything. He couldn't help but feel hopeful, even after all these years of solitude.
Entering his cottage, he gently placed the human on his bed, watching as they began to stir awake. Their eyelids fluttered open, revealing eyes that were both curious and afraid. But there was something else there too, something that caught Gutsy off guard; exhaustion.
"Welcome to my home," he said with a warm grin, his tone playful yet comforting. "I hope you find everything you need here."
Sammy blinked several times, taking in her surroundings before focusing on the clown-like figure standing before her. Her brow furrowed in confusion as she tried to piece together what had happened.
"Where am I?" she asked hesitantly, sitting up on the edge of the bed.
"Why, you are in my kingdom, dearest," Gutsy replied with a bow of his head. "I am Gutsy, the ruler of this land. And you, my dear, are very much welcome here."
Sammy looked around warily, taking in the bright colors and odd decor. "This...this is definitely a trip," she muttered under her breath.
"Indeed it is," Gutsy agreed, chuckling softly. "But don't worry, I won't let anything bad happen to you while you're here."
Sammy nods quietly. The last thing she remembered was falling asleep. She didn't even know if they had been anything actually dangerous in the woods. "Thank you." She finally says.
Gutsy knows that the only thing his human would have had to worry about is her... Well, everything, she smells so sweet and soft and he just wants to burry himself in her and keep her warm and full forever. His hands are hiding behind his back as he watches her awkwardly sip the tea as she looks around his room in curiosity.
"You need a bath Prescious." Gutys finally says. Hes hoping bathing will dull her scent. Cause he already knows he's not sleeping tonight, he's gonna be busy keeping his own hands and tentacles in check. Or attempting at least, control wasn't his strong point.
Sammy frowns a little. "I... I don't have spare clothes though?" She mumbles looking over her dirt covered clothes. She would need something else to wear while her clothes get cleaned. And that thought sends her into a tailspin of anxiety.
"Oh, don't worry about that," Gutsy assured her with a wave of his hand. "I have plenty of extra clothes for you to borrow until yours are dry." He paused for a moment before adding with a twinkle in his eye, "And besides, it's better to be clean anyway!"
Smiling reassuringly, Gutsy led Sammy to the bathroom where he had prepared a warm bath filled with fragrant bubbles and rose petals. Handing her a soft, fluffy towel, he encouraged her to relax and enjoy the soak while he went to fetch some fresh clothes for her.
As Sammy slipped into the steaming water, she couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. Something about this place felt...off, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. Shrugging it off as mere paranoia brought on by fatigue and disorientation, she closed her eyes and allowed herself to sink into the soothing waters.
Meanwhile, Gutsy returned with an armful of colorful garments: a frilly pink skirt and top for her to wear during her stay. Grinning widely, he watched as Sammy emerged from the bathroom, admiring how well she fit into his world.
"There you go, my dear," he said cheerfully, handing her the outfit. "Try these on while I finish preparing our dinner."
Sammy took the clothes silently, wondering why she felt so nervous despite being so exhausted. Putting on the outfit, she followed Gutsy back into the main room where he had set up a simple meal. As they ate together in relative silence, Gutsy couldn't help but marvel at how perfect she looked in his clothes – like a true princess in his kingdom.
Finally breaking the silence, Gutsy cleared his throat and spoke up. "So, tell me more about yourself, Sammy." His voice was gentle yet probing, almost as if he were trying to unravel her secrets layer by layer.
Sammy quietly talks. She tells him of her job in a fast food restaurant kitchen, her likes of gardens but her inability to keep a plant alive. Just simple things.
Gutsy sits and waits for Sammy to tell him more about herself. But she she feels awkward talking about herself. So she hesitantly ask Gutsy ask about himself.
She finds out Gutsy is something called a Jevil, he loves tea, the place she's ended up is called the Enchanted Abandon which is like wonderland mixed with a amusement park, and Gutsy let's slip he has a sensitive nose. And Sammy's cheeks turn pink, thinking she smelled bad and that's why he wanted her to bathe.
It's not though, Gutsy wanted her to clean up for the sake of the sweet scent she was oozing due to her time of the month approaching. But he doesn't tell her anything about that.
"So....how long until my clothes are clean?" Sammy finally ask as she watches Gutsy fiddle with a old record player. Gutsy shrugs, "Well Princess, you rolled around in so much dirt that it's stained some spots. So probably a whole while yet." Gutsy lies.
He likes Sammy in the soft frilly outfit. She's adorable for a adult, and makes a cute princess. But he can tell she's uncomfortable with the lack of undergarment and how snug the clothing is on her.
Gutsy listened intently as Sammy shared bits and pieces of her life story, his heart swelling with each revelation. Even though he knew nothing about the outside world, he could tell that she had lived a fairly ordinary life thus far.
At her question about the laundry, he smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry, darling," he said with a wink. "Your clothes will be fine. Now then," he continued, changing the subject deftly, "are you ready for some entertainment?"
Reaching over to the record player, he carefully selected an album before placing it on the turntable. As the first notes of a jaunty tune filled the air, Gutsy held out his hand to Sammy and led her towards the center of the room.
"Shall we dance, my lady?" he asked gallantly, offering her a slight bow.
Sammy hesitated for a moment before accepting his invitation, stepping onto the wooden floorboards beside him. Despite her initial reluctance, she soon found herself lost in the rhythm of the music and the joyful expression on Gutsy's face.
They danced together under the twirling lights of his homemade disco ball, their bodies moving in sync to the beat as they laughed and swayed under the hypnotic spell of the tunes. For a brief moment, it felt as if they were the only two people in the world – isolated from reality and lost in each other's company.
As the song came to an end, Gutsy pulled Sammy close and whispered softly in her ear, "Let's make some beautiful memories together, shall we?" His eyes sparkled with anticipation as he leaned in closer than he intended, his hot breath tickling her neck.
Sammy blushed deeply at his words, unsure whether to be flattered or frightened by his advances. Yet somehow, she found herself drawn to this strange but charismatic clown-like creature who seemed determined to show her a good time.
"Yeah..."
Sammy still has the faint haze buzzing in her head that this is a dream. So what's the harm in indulging? And it gives her a ridiculous excuse to get out of the frilly costume that makes her feel like a little girl.
Gutsy is trailing kisses along Sammy's neck, and he nips at a sensitive spot that makes her breath hitch. "Would this be a important moment to mention I get overwhelmed easily? And that I'm stupidly sensitive?" She blurts out when she's basically squished against his chest.
The noise of excitement Gutsy makes concerns Sammy, she feels like she probably shouldn't have told him that. But with how easily overwhelmed she gets with everything in general. She figured it would be safer to blurt it out now before he got mad at her for stopping anything halfway through. "Cause I'm guessing this is going on a very not PG friendly content with the way your hands are crawling up my shirt!" She squeaks as Gutsy trails cold but soft fingers along her stomach. "And I have a horrible habit of tapping out when I get overwhelmed, babbling when I'm nervous, and I have definitely lost a few boyfriends along the way cause I think I look ugly when naked... " She babbles nervously, her voice hitches and little sounds slip out between words as Gutsy takes his time with her.
Sammy continues to blurt out random things and her insecurities as Gutsy pulls her onto his lap. "Do you want me to stop?" Gutsy ask softly. Sammy's giving of a mix of arousal and anxiety.
She hesitantly shakes her head no. "Just... Just wanted to let you know what you're getting into..." She mumbles.
Listening intently to Sammy's confession, Gutsy couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for her. He understood the fear of vulnerability and self-consciousness all too well. However, he also sensed an underlying desire in her words – a longing for connection and intimacy that resonated deep within him.
"My dear Sammy," he murmured softly, pulling her closer, "you are beautiful just the way you are. Your imperfections only add to your charm."
Gently cupping her face in his hands, he leaned forward and pressed his soft lips against hers, coaxing her mouth open with his tongue. As he explored her mouth, he began to undo the buttons on her blouse, exposing more and more of her flesh to the cool night air.
Despite her initial shock and surprise, Sammy found herself melting into Gutsy's embrace, responding to his touch with equal parts curiosity and apprehension. His hands were surprisingly gentle as they traced patterns across her stomach, teasing but never pushing too hard.
When he reached beneath her skirt, Sammy's heart skipped a beat, but she remained silent, allowing him to explore further. His fingers brushed against her inner thighs before finally reaching their target – she gasped as he made contact with her most intimate places.
"Tell me if it hurts, okay?" he whispered softly against her earlobe. "I promise not to push you past your limits."
Sammy nodded weakly, her mind whirring with confusion and arousal. She trusted this strange clown-like creature who seemed intent on showing her pleasure rather than inflicting pain. And so, she gave in to the sensations coursing through her body, letting go of any remaining inhibitions.
"You see," Gutsy murmured against her skin, "there's nothing to be afraid of."
As he continued his ministrations, Sammy found herself losing track of time and space entirely, succumbing fully to the sensations he evoked within her.
Sammy let out a shuddering gasp as he sink his teeth into her neck, marking her flesh with love bites. She's also too distracted to notice him removing the rest of the outfit.
But when she feels him pull away, her hands hide her face. Assuming he's doing what any human man she's been with does, and judging her body. She's on the chubby side, soft belly rolls and chubby thighs. And she's violently remembers that she hasn't shaved properly when she feels fingers rub over her mound and play with her trimmed pubes.
Sammys anxiety skyrocket. "Sorry!" She blurt out. Trying to quickly and clumsily get off Gutsy lap.
But to her surprise, Gutys arms shoot forward and wrap around her several times. "Oh no you don't Princess, bring your cute little self back here." He coos as he plops her back on his lap. "You're adorable. And beautiful. And I have no idea where I want to start with you now." He purrs. He was blindsided by how natural and not fake she looked, he got distracted.
Sammy let's out a startled squeak when something slimy wiggles against her bare bottom. She's confused and embarrassed. And Gutsy extends his own limbs to wrap around hers, almost effectively tying her to him.
Sammy's eyes are wide as shes basically forced into a exposed position, straddling Gutsy as his own legs and arms wrap around hers like rope to keep her in place. "My precious princess deserves to be spoiled I think? How does that sound?" He coos.
Sammy's currently reeling from the new kink discovery she's just been introduced to. She doesn't realize she's nodding in agreement until Gutsys mouth latches onto her breast. And sucks.
Gutsy's eyes gleamed with delight as he watched Sammy's reaction to his advances. He loved seeing the combination of fear and excitement in her eyes, knowing that he could make her feel both ways was exhilarating. As she struggled against his grasp, he tightened his grip, enjoying the challenge of holding onto her.
When she finally submitted to his touch, he couldn't help but smile triumphantly. His tongue danced around her nipple, teasing and tugging gently before drawing it into his mouth. Meanwhile, his free hand roamed lower, tracing circles around her entrance before dipping inside her folds.
Her moans of pleasure only fueled his fire, driving him to push harder and faster. He groaned in approval as he felt her walls clench around his fingers, signaling her readiness for more.
Without warning, Gutsy thrust his hand deeper into her core, filling her completely with his long, slender digits. Her gasp of surprise echoed in the otherwise silent room, causing him to chuckle darkly.
"That's right, darling," he purred, "let go of your inhibitions and surrender to me."
As he continued to stimulate her with his fingers, he noticed another part of her that begged for attention – her protruding belly button. Lowering his head, he circled it with his tongue, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from Sammy.
"You taste divine," he murmured against her skin, his voice thick with desire. "Now then, shall we continue?"
Gutsy positioned himself behind Sammy, guiding his hardness to her entrance. With one swift motion, he pushed inside her, claiming her tightness as his own. She cried out in surprise but didn't resist as he began to move within her, his unique anatomy providing a sensation unlike anything she'd ever experienced before.
As they moved together, he whispered words of encouragement and praise into her ear, urging her to give in to the pleasure coursing through her veins.
Sammy's mind was a jumbled mess of emotions as she felt Gutsy's foreign appendages stretching her insides. It was kinda painful, but also strangely arousing. She couldn't deny the thrill of being taken so thoroughly by this eccentric clown-like creature.
His every word and touch sent shivers down her spine, heightening her senses to unimaginable levels. She arched her back involuntarily as he picked up the pace, his movements becoming rougher and more demanding.
Gutsy bites down on her shoulder, and she almost wails. Everything is becoming too much. "Slow down!" She whines, Overwhelmed. It becomes a chant of pleading and begging for him to slow down.
But Gutsy does the opposite, he speeds up, he can feel how close she is, and from the way shes reacting, she **doesn't know** and he will be damned to hell if he doesn't make her cum like she deserves. He tries to be gentle, but his entire plan goes out the window when a noise slips out of Sammy when he angles his hips just right.
Her eyes are glazed in arousal, confusion, and a bit of fear. And despite her protest, her hips are moving almost franticly, chasing her release.
Gutsy's eyes flashed with triumph as he watched Sammy's expressions shift from discomfort to pure ecstasy. He could feel her walls clenching around him, signaling her impending climax. With a final thrust, he released inside her, filling her completely as she cried out his name in a mixture of pain and pleasure.
As she collapsed onto his chest, panting heavily, he wrapped his arms tightly around her, holding her close. "There now, my dear," he whispered softly, "that wasn't so bad, was it?"
Sammy shook her head, trying to catch her breath. She couldn't form coherent thoughts anymore, her body still pulsing with residual pleasure. All she knew was that she wanted more of this intense feeling – even if it meant submitting to Gutsy's unconventional desires.
"You're incredible," he breathed against her ear, nuzzling his face into her neck. "I could spend eternity exploring every inch of you."
With that, he began to move again, his tentacles slithering in and out of her in a rhythmic pattern that left her gasping for air. His pace was steady but relentless, driving her higher and higher until she thought she might pass out from the intensity of it all.
As she neared the peak once again, Gutsy increased his speed, determined to push her over the edge. "Come for me, Sammy," he growled into her ear, his voice low and commanding.
And come she did – loudly and powerfully, her body quaking under the force of her orgasm. As she rode out the waves of pleasure, Gutsy held her close, basking in the knowledge that he had claimed this beautiful creature as his own.
For now, they would exist in this twisted paradise together, bound by their shared experiences and desires. In this enchanted land of wonder, anything was possible – including finding love in the most unexpected of places.
The morning comes and Sammy bolts upwards. Dizzy and confused and very much in a bed. Where her last memories had been.... In the living room area.
She's covered in light bruises from Gutys limbs when he basically tied her up with his own body. And not to mention the plethora of bite marks and hickeys scattered about her body too. And she tries to ignore the anxiety of being naked.
She's also trying to remember when she fell asleep. But nothing's clicking.
She turns to the window, blinking blearily as the warmth of the sun hits her. The windows also open, and she can feel the slight chill of the wind.
It's going to rain.
*****
Gutsy is watching Sammy from his half the bed. She had passed out after he got a third orgasm out of her. And he decided that was the quitting bell.
So he carried her to his room and tucked her into bed under several blankets, then took his normal spot on the other half the bed.
When Sammy bolted upward he was concerned that something happened. But she looks absolutely sleepy and adorably confused by everything. And her hairs sticking up in those angles that only happen when you have that good sleep.
He's able to coax her into laying back down and cuddling with him. Enjoying the way Sammy mumbles nonsense as he pulls the blankets over them.
Rainy days are dangerous in the Enchanted Abandon, flowers go wild and the Royal Rooks run around looking for humans to take to the queens for their harem. But they won't take anyone already in a home. And since Sammy is safe with him in his bed, and definitely smells like him, they have nothing to fear.
Gutsy smiled softly as Sammy nestled closer to him, her warmth seeping into his skin. He could feel her heart racing, but it was calming down now that she was safe in his arms.
"Shhh," he hummed soothingly, running his fingers through her hair. "Everything's alright, my dear. You're safe with me."
Sammy eventually drifted back to sleep, her breathing evening out as she relaxed into his embrace. Gutsy couldn't help but marvel at how quickly she had fallen under his spell; it was as if she had been waiting for someone like him to come along all along.
As the storm raged outside, he held on tightly to the feeling of contentment that washed over him. This was what love felt like – protecting and cherishing someone else above all else. He couldn't imagine ever letting her go now.
Throughout the day, he kept checking on her, ensuring that she was comfortable and well-fed. Whenever she stirred or spoke in her sleep, he would comfort her gently, promising that everything would be alright. By nightfall, he was exhausted but couldn't bear to leave her side.
As the second day dawned bright and clear, Gutsy found himself wondering what new adventures awaited them in this magical kingdom. But for now, he was content to simply enjoy the peaceful silence of their shared slumber, basking in the afterglow of their passionate encounter.
In this world of chaos and uncertainty, he had finally found solace in the arms of another – a rare gem among the rubble of forgotten dreams. And he vowed to cherish every moment he spent with Sammy, no matter how strange or wonderful this journey may become.
The future was uncertain, but for now, he would focus on creating beautiful memories with his newfound love. After all, that's what life was all about, wasn't it? Making the most of the time we have together before it slips away.
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aquariaries · 3 months
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Kou Mukami 10 - Chaos Lineage
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***I do not mind if you use my translations as a base for another language, I just ask that you credit both 46snowfox as the original translator and myself as the English translator if you do!***
Original translation credit: @46snowfox
https://46snowfox.tumblr.com/post/617475223016669184/01-02-03-04-05-06-07-08
You can find Kou's previous chapters in @tournesolia's masterlist linked down below!
https://tournesolia.tumblr.com/
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Yui's Monologue:
Yuma-kun had lost consciousness.
In the midst of dismay, Kou-kun safely managed to join us.
Then, carrying Yuma-kun, we all headed through the forest.
By chance we managed to find an abandoned house where we could stay and rest.
It's only temporary, but we've found a place to relax, and we don't know when Ruki-kun and the others will start following us.
While carrying that anxiety, we waited for Yuma-kun to wake up.
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PLACE: Abandoned House
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Yuma: ... ... ... ...
Kou: Yuma-kun ... ...
Yuma: ... ... Ngh, nnnn ... ...
Yui: (... ... ! He opened his eyes!)
Yuma: Kou, Azusa ... ... and ... ...
... ... What's with you guys ... ... Staring at one's face ... ... and all while wearing depressing expressions ... ...
I mean, 'the even hell happened ... ... ?
Kou: Yuma-kun ... ... Do you know who we are?
Yuma: Huh? Of course I know ... ...
Azusa: So you won't say that we are Kou and Azusa from Violet, and also know about Eve ... ... ?
Yuma: Hah? Violet ... ... ?
Kou: Then that means you remember? You know that guy who took tomatoes from your garden and dissapeared?
Actually, the culprit of that was me. They were so delicious that I ate too much.
Yuma: Aah!? That was you!? You selfishly took the tomatoes that I worked so hard to grow ... ... tch ... ...
Yui: Y-Yuma-kun! You shouldn't get up so suddenly. However ...
(The fact that Kou ate his tomatoes is a story from when they were in the Mukami mansion.)
... ... You've really remembered everything.
Thank goodness ... ... !
Kou: Yuma-kun!!
Azusa: Yuma ... ... !
*They all hug Yuma*
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Yuma: Woah?! You idiots, if you hug me so suddenly then–- Uwaa!
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Yui's Monologue:
-- Yuma-kun has recovered his memories.
We were so overcome with emotion that we hugged him.
As we all jumped at the same time, we ended up falling out of the bed however, when we all looked at each other, we ended up laughing.
After that we simply explained what was happening to Yuma-kun, who was still unable to grasp the current situation.
————————————
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Kou: Yuma-kun? What's wrong, you're making a gloomy expression.
Yuma: No ... ... It's just, how do I put it.
Even though I've lost my memories, the murderous thirst I had against you was real. One misstep and I would've really killed ya ... ...
Kou: If you're going to say that, then I'm no different. I did many cruel things to the person I love. Even now I regret it.
Yui: Kou-kun ... ...
Kou: But ... ... She forgave me. That's why I must reciprocate her feelings and move forward.
Of course, I will also forgive you Yuma-kun. We are brothers after all.
Azusa: It doesn't bother me either. I'm just glad you got your memories back Yuma.
Yuma: You guys ... ...
Yui: It's as they say Yuma-kun.
Yuma: Yeah ... ... Thank you.
I can't erase what I did in the past, but in return I'll make up for it.
Yui: Yeah! Having Yuma-kun with us is reassuring.
(Yuma-kun has finally returned! Now next we have to ... ...)
Yuma: The one who seems to be troublesome ... ... is Ruki.
Azusa: ... ... Yeah, it doesn't look like Ruki is going to give up on Eve ... ...
Yuma: Yeah, he'll probably chase her down to the ends of the Earth until she's caught.
Yui: As I thought, there is no escape huh ... ... ?
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Kou: I think it would be difficult. Also, this place is closed off like a miniature garden. At some point we will run out of places to escape.
Yuma: You talked about that before earlier, didn't you? But is it really true these lands are surrounded by cliffs?
Yui: Yes. We couldn't see what was on the other side. I don't think it will be easy to escape from here.
In that case, we should look for places to hide ... ...
Yuma: As I said before, we can't go back to the mansion where I was. Seeing that I was with the enemy, they'll think I betrayed them.
Azusa: Same here ... ... We can't go back to where we were either. Carla-san will think that we're traitors and capture us ... ...
Yui: It's true ... ... We don't have anyone to trust anymore ... ...
From here on out, we won't be able to depend on anyone and we have to move forward with our own strength ... ...
Kou: Uuuuhm ... ... Their target is Eve. We can't run away from this place.
And to top it off we have no one to trust. But there are only so many places we can escape to ... ...
Aaah, jeez! I have no idea what we should do~!
Yuma: After all, the one who's good at thinking about these types of situations is Ruki.
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Kou: Haah ... ... Seems like we were more dependent on Ruki-kun than I imagined.
Yui: Yeah ... ...
Azusa: If only Ruki's memories would return ... ...
Yuma: Do you think they'll be able to at this point?
Yui: Well ... ...
Yuma: ... ... Right?
Yui: (Just when we recovered Yuma-kun's memories we have returned to a dead end.)
(And the atmosphere now is not very good ... ...)
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Selection:
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-> Continue the discussion ♟
Yui: (But, we don't have time. We don't know when they could attack us.)
Shall we start again from the beginning? If we analyze the situation from scratch, we may come up with something ... ...
Azusa: But now I feel that no matter how hard we try, nothing will come to mind ... ...
Yuma: It's true. I'm tired from using my head so much after a long time.
Yui: (Of course ... ... We'd spent a long time walking in the forest, and Yuma-kun just recovered his memories.)
... ... You're right. Let's rest for today.
Kou: Yeah. Let's think again once we've calmed down.
————————————
-> Propose a break ♙♡
Yui: How about we leave the conversation here and rest for today?
I don't think it's good that we continue to push ourselves and we might come up with something while we rest.
Kou: Ah, I get it! You usually have good ideas when you're doing something else.
Azusa: Thats right. Besides, I'm still worried about Yuma's body ... ...
Yuma: I'm fine, no problems here.
But, I agree to rest. Let's keep thinking tomorrow.
————————————
*Time skip*
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Kou: Hah ... ... I'm exhausted ... ...
Yui: A lot of complicated things happened today.
But ... ... is it really okay for me to use the back room when everyone is exhausted?
Kou: In these situations it's ladies first.
Besides, I'm here too, so it not like you'll be alone. Don't worry, don't worry.
Yui: But, it would be better for Yuma-kun to rest instead.
Kou: Yuma-kun is tough, so he'll be fine. Besides ... ... you haven't forgotten, have you? You are the one in the most danger.
Yui: ... ... !
Kou: I think we'll be fine for now, but we don't know when something might happen. Make sure you stay by my side whenever possible.
Yui: ... ... Yes, understood.
(This is not the time to let our guard down. Even if everyone has recovered their memories, we have no place to run or return to.)
(And we don't know when Ruki-kun and the others might show up ... ...)
Kou: ... ...
Yui: Kou-kun? What's wrong?
Kou: Ah ... ... Sorry. I was thinking about Ruki-kun.
Yui: Ruki-kun ... ... ?
Kou: I didn't say it before earlier because I didn't want anyone to feel anxious, but ... ...
I think that recovering Ruki-kun's memories will be more difficult than everyone thinks.
When Ruki-kun looked at me ... ... his gaze said that he really intended to kill me.
Yui: (Ah ... ...)
Kou: When he attacked our mansion, and even in the dungeon ... ... I didn't think Ruki-kun could have that kind of expression.
Yui: (I also saw Ruki-kun's cold gaze ... ... I can understand.)
(It was different from when I first met the Mukami family. They were eyes without a hint of mercy.)
Kou: I shuddered because I thought he really was going to kill me, but even more so I ... ... was shocked by it.
Yui: Kou-kun ... ...
(We can't become timid.)
(I can certainly understand Kou-kun's feelings of anxiety. But ... ... still–-)
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Yui: ... ... You must not give up.
Kou: Eh ... ...?
Yui: The bonds between you are not so weak that they would collapse in the face of something like this, right?
I know that best, as I've observed everyone from up close.
Azusa-kun and Yuma-kun came back.
So ... ... It'll be okay. I'm sure Ruki-kun will also recover his memories.
And then, we will all go back home together!
Kou: Yui ... ...
... ... Yeah, thank you.
Definitely ... ... We'll all definitely return home.
Yui: Yes ... ... !
(Thank goodness, Kou-kun's expression has brightened again.)
Kou: Even so ... ... I keep showing you my most pathetic sides.
Truthfully, I would like to solve everything in one go and be cool in front of you.
Yui: Fufu, oh Kou-kun.
You're not pathetic, you're far from it. After all, I know many of your coolest aspects.
Kou: ... ... You really are good at cheering me up and pampering me.
But ... ... With just that, I won't be satisfied.
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Kou: Nn ... ... *kisses*
Yui: (Ah ... ... On my lips ... ...)
Kou: ... ... This is a thank you.
Yui: Is it because it's give and take?
Kou: Nope. It's because I want to give you my feelings.
*He hugs her*
Yui: (Ah ... ... He is hugging me ... ...)
Kou: ... ... Fufu, you really like when I cling to you, Yui. I can feel how excited you are.
Yui: Yeah ... ...
Kou: Your face is red ... ... How cute. Nn ... ... *kisses*
Yui: ... ... Nn ... ...
(His kiss is so gentle ... ... I'm feeling dazed ... ...)
Kou: ... ... To be honest, I don't know what will happen next.
I think that many terrible things will happen until we manage to return home.
Even so ... ... I will definitely protect you.
Yui: Kou-kun ... ...
(Both me and Kou-kun ... ... No matter what happens from now on, we won't give up.)
(–- Until the day we can all return home.)
-END-
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sirolivercheshirecat · 8 months
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Hello! If you were looking for a coherent storytelling simblr, you clicked a wrong link along the way.
I’m Chessie, she/her; I’ve been in the Sims since SimCity. I was really unhappy with TS4 for a long time, but it’s all that will run on my current rig and with CC and such I’ve made it a bit cosier. Sims 3 is still my favourite game (and The Sims had the best vibe) but we make do with what we have.
WCIF-friendly, but never guaranteed - I have tons and tons of stuff in my folder that I have absolutely no idea the provenance of.
Persims of interest below the cut
The descendants of these two:
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Titus and Wren Revere
Titus was intended as the first heir to my original start pair, but an unintended tragedy befell his mother like right after his sister’s birth (and the resulting chaos ended with said sister being removed) so it rapidly switched to Titus being more like the founder and his father, Tristan (and Tristan’s emergency-called-in older brother Justin) being relegated to backstory character.
Titus was attacked by a werewolf in his youth, and in life he was the second in command of the Moonwood collective. He and Wren had a whopping forty-two children spread among eight or ten litters, all of whom they raised in a tiny home named Revere Cottage. Nearly everyone in her life a lycanthrope, Wren became culturally werewolf, and was well liked. She was a passionate conservationist and kept a large sheltered garden to help reduce her family’s footprint.
Their heir was Meadow “Doe” Revere
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Here with one of her eldest brothers, Reid, whose claim to fame was singlehandedly giving Titus and Wren thirty-seven of their grandchildren.
Meadow embarked deep into the secrets of Moonwood Mill, and found more than she was expecting. In unearthing a legacy of mooncasting, she traveled to the headwaters of Luna lake’s main tributary and plunged into the crumbling ruins of what remains of the Magic Realm. She became obsessed with wild magic and reconstructing the disciplines of the mooncasters, and her work caught the eye of a Sage, who helped her in her research.
The two had a pair of boys, Elias and Gabriel, who were tainted by the void of the realm and the magical pollution in their parents’ blood. They came out moon-tied, like their forebears, but monstrous and bloodthirsty. In realising what had happened, Doe abandoned them with a pair of vampires and her only dormant wolf sister for appropriate care and safekeeping from her family. She had already been rapidly approaching arcane insanity before this, and afterward all her family members report she ran into the woods and turned herself into a tree, under which they dug winding catacombs.
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cmcphailwriting · 9 months
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Jerome
The three of us walked down the pitch-dark lane towards the lights, evenly spaced, a strand along the slick-wet tarmac, flanked by grassy banks. When I turned around to see Alex, I could only make out the faint orange light of the cigarette held up to her mouth. Looking ahead I could barely see Jerome, a figure in the middle distance, vague; even then I wasn’t sure if I was seeing things.
*
I had known Jerome from the age of thirteen, when we first arrived at the school. He went home at night, and I didn’t, but he lived on campus. His mum was the Chaplin and taught maths and religious studies - I was one of her students for two years. She had short hair and glasses, and walked with a skinny masculine gait. Jerome was in the same class as lots of my friends, so I knew him a little, but we never encountered each other properly until we were seventeen. We got together in the way that many couples did at school, at the school disco. People would walk off together into the night, away from the coloured lights of the assembly hall, having drunk vodka they’d been hiding in their dorm underwear drawer in preparation for the occasion. My sexual encounters with Jerome were my first. Being at a boarding school, being outside was part of almost all sexual experiences. We would meet up outside my boarding house and wander into the woods, between nine and half past nine in the evening when we were given free time. Jerome and I had been meeting up in the evenings for a month, maybe even less. I remember that it was May fourteenth, because it was my friend’s birthday, and we’d been to a restaurant in the nearby town for a meal. When I came back there was some kind of outdoor event by the cricket pitch. We walked off together, as the couples did, peeling off into the spring and disappearing amongst the trees. We kissed and lay down in the grass and dust beneath the tree. I still remember his smell, which seemed to fill up my lungs and head. It was without warning, without hesitation, that he started to kiss down my body and remove my underwear. I just remember that what happened felt so sweet, precise and calm. No chaos and no fear existed in that moment, no darkness or discomfort. We are both bisexual, and he was one of the only people who knew this about me, which felt like some secret club in a boarding school which was fundamentally, explicitly against any kind of same sex romantic contact or relationships. We went together once, with sarcastic curiosity, to an event that the Christian club put on: ‘The Truth about Sex and Christianity’. I remember having an earnest young geography teacher tell me that it was wrong in God’s eyes to ‘practice’ with a member of the same sex. She told me until she was blue in the face that God hates divorce. I thought of my parents at home, not acknowledging one another in the street and planning the court dates for their own divorce. Jerome was religious, in his own way. After all, both his parents were vicars, but strangely enough, divorced. In that sense, he was warped, but so was I. We were young, abandoned in an English garden, with dry smirks as we messed around behind my dorms that night. I wish I could recount some conversation, some positive conversations of ours, but all I can remember is the way it felt. It was both urgent and comfortable, exotic and familiar. The conversations I do remember were those that ended it. It was me who wanted to stay together after school ended. It was the final day, the ceremony, the dresses, the suits, and us, standing on the pitches talking about whether to continue our relationship. I couldn’t believe what I heard when he said he wasn’t sure, as I had never been more sure of anything before. I pleaded that it wouldn’t be a problem, that we could get around the distance. Somehow I convinced him, and we had a happy summer, on the island. The summer was me,
sitting at the dinner table with my vest on back to front, having frantically got dressed for dinner less than five minutes after I’d come. It was him, lighting candles in a cottage on my birthday. I was desperate to make him know how much I loved him. However, this impetus became a dark pit, the bottom of which I could never reach. When he came to my family home he would say I love you, and I would say I love you more, but he said he didn’t believe me. The trouble arrived the day after we received our final exam results. I didn’t do well and got trashed at some results party. He called me at three in the morning, and told me how he loved me, that he would stab anyone who came near me, “slit their throat”, and somehow I felt obliged to say the same, but I was scared. He said he was walking along the river in the rain, coming back from a party, and somehow I became worried that he may never make it home. The next day I couldn’t eat, alcohol still pulsing through my system. We spoke on the phone and he was somehow enraged. His voice changed, everything changed, he was snarling down the phone. He said he hadn’t known where I was, who I was with, or what I was wearing. He said it was never possible to fully trust somebody, he said he had seen some photos online of me with another guy, he said he thought I was cheating. I was on the floor - I don’t think I’d cried like that before and have never cried like that since. I was retching. The carpets in my living room were a blotched red as I lay there, close, eyes congealed. I hung up and he called back several times, threatening my mother as she wouldn’t let him speak to me. A week later, we spoke. It was late at night. I was in bed, and his voice was soothing. He said he was sorry, that it would never happen again, and it felt like I was slipping into a warm bath. I woke up a few days later, knowing it was irretrievable. I thought about what had happened over the past few months. Photos appeared online of my friends on the last day of school. All the girls I’d spent those years with, my teenage years, in their dresses in the sun. I realised I knew nothing about what has been going on in their lives the past few months. While they had spent the day picnicking together with their families on the grass, I had been pleading with Jerome on the pitch. At the leaving ball, that night, I was anxious, only reflecting on that conversation, and only feeling relieved when I dragged Jerome out to the dark to have sex, when we told each other we loved each other for the first time. I had walked around school in a daze in those months we were together, nothing could touch me. I had this impenetrable look in my eyes, a clouding over. The obsession was mutual, the possessiveness toxic, but I wanted that. It was all consuming in a way that I’d always dreamt of. He has remained in my dreams since then, waking and sleeping, and when I would wake up from one of these dreams my whole day would be thrown. The last time we saw each other was when he was on his way back from a festival that summer. I was in the city, and he stopped by to see me so we could talk, but the conversation was brief. We hugged for a long time, and I was numbed. He didn’t want to split up. What had happened was so deeply painful and strange, something so visceral that I couldn’t put it aside, even though I was still in love. When I got back from the city, I traded my relationship with Jerome for painful ocean baptisms, swimming as early as the light and tides would allow me, seeing which was the furthest buoy I could swim to before fear of the darkness below set in. I went to university on the mainland the following autumn, drifting in and out of lecture theatres and making a life for myself in the city. Six years passed, I moved to different cities, met new friends and new lovers, but my dreams remained the same. I completed a master’s degree, and ended up moving back to the island to work at the local radio station. Tonight, he was here. His grandparents had moved here and he was over for the holidays. It was Simon who told me - my heart hit the back of my throat. He invited me out with them. Simon, who I hadn’t confided in in years, had been my ally at school. I decided to go. I didn’t see him immediately. I was waiting for my drink and felt someone looking at me, but it was disorienting - it was only when I looked up at the mirrored back of the bar that I saw him, further along to my left. He gave a little wave and made his way over. We first exchanged a few shallow words about how
it was good to see each other. He told me a little about his life and what he was doing for work, which he thought was boring. I was looking into his eyes and inwardly pleading, pleading - something, but I knew this was an invisible impulse. I caught my breath and told him about mine. We were twenty-four now, and one option of recourse from our painful past seemed to be speaking of our recent entry into the labour market. But perhaps only I considered it that way. Maybe this is how people talk. “Wanna see the music?” - he interrupted my thoughts. I had been looking at his hands now, his cuff, his collar. I more or less stayed by his side as the night progressed through different constellations of people, until it was me, him and Charlotte, who I had met that night. We smoked outside, and as Jerome’s hand moved to the small of Charlotte’s back my face felt hot. I looked down. We’d just been told about a party - Alex’s brother’s place - someone said. Jerome said he’d go if Charlotte would go, and I, mercilessly, said I would go too. It was out on the other side of the island, by the marina. If we want to go to the party, let’s go to the party. We got a lift from Charlie’s friend, driving through the harsh winter with the windows down. Jerome was shouting above the music, asking Charlotte questions. Charlie’s friend let us out at the top of the lane that led down to the marina.
*
Emerging from the lane to the street, we made various calls and looked around for people, but found only the dark, interrupted by the harbour lights and clinking of the boats in the bay. The three of us sat on a bench looking out. Jerome remarked on how drunk he was, and Charlotte waxed lyrical about her career as a drama teacher. I listened, wishing away my chosen fate. I chose this moment to praise the beauty of the lights of town opposite (it’s true, they were beautiful). I held my can in my freezing cold hands. The ground was slipping away from underneath me. Charlotte remarked that she was the ‘third wheel’, but we all knew that wasn’t the case. Little else was said, until I finally called us a taxi. In the car, there was trepidation over where in the neighbourhood the taxi driver would leave Jerome and Charlotte. I was going to another part of town. In the end the driver dropped them off together, under the pretence that it was equidistant to their places, and they would walk the rest of the way. As I was driven east the driver commented that their behaviour was strange. “Lovebirds, I think.” I pretended to laugh.
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a-rae-of-sunshine · 4 years
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WE BACK ON THE SONIC SHIT HELL FUXKING YEAAAAAAAAAAH
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delicrieux · 3 years
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☆ミ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”
PART 13: ...O-OH?
it’s the night of the big stream. y/n uncovers a strange, albeit deep, bond with charlie. corpse interrupts her garden date with sykkuno quite unceremoniously. tensions are high as ever; proximity chat reveals internal monologues and stray thoughts. y/n’s “batshit insane” energy affects everyone. this is, quite literally, the best game of among us bretman has ever played.
─── corpse husband x reader, sykkuno x reader (if you squint, it’s very one sided)  ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: 6.1k oops ─── ❥ reqs: sum people requested some interaction w bretman + jealous corpse + flirty sykkuno
author’s note: guys....GUYS WE’RE ON THE 3RD “OH” hope ur excited cus i am!!! this was rly fun to write, but then again, everything is better than writing an essay lmao! this is extremely chaotic and a bit seggsy but like a minuscule bit u wont even notice it i swear xx there’s not much social media in this one, mostly written lol. as always lmk wat u think n thank u for all ur kind words n sooo manyyyy ideassss!!! love u lots
ultimate masterlist.  ҉  myso masterlist   ҉   previous. ҉   next.
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It’s happening, you think, picking the discreet, angelic white color for your astronaut - with a halo and all, truly, you are a seraph that stepped through the gates of heaven and descended onto earth to grace these morals with your presence...quite literally, you’re not only donning white in game, but also in real life, cute as a button or more like as a bunny. Cat girls are overrated - cat boys, on the other hand, you’ll ardently defend till your last breath - but bunny girls...Safe to say, your chat had been going feral. Your endless ego is fed well. You even swore on your heart that no devilish trickery would follow in this game - you had left your snake ways behind you.
No one believed you. The Roaches know you too fucking well.
The influx of new subs, however, do not. Look at this cute girl! She wouldn’t hurt a fly! You chuckle at the compliments. At the exact same moment, Rae pipes up on the discord call, “Y/n is leering and cackling evilly. No one trust her.”
Demon woman herself must be watching your stream before starting her own. You pout, all adorable and innocent, but your eyes gleam slyly. Truly, a mastermind of manipulation! Look at you go! The chat is swooning. The viewer number steadily climbs past 16K and you hum happily, welcoming all that decided to join your little clan, “Don’t listen to Rae. Wifey is mad because I said I’m not bringing her back a souvenir. Well guess what, bitch, I’m the gift.”
Your perfect image does not quite align with your tone, nor the affectionate nickname you call your roommate (bitch, not wifey). The new viewers are none the wiser though, just like your new stream mates.
There is laughter from people you don’t quite know. The lobby is almost full, but not everyone has trickled in yet.
“Filing divorce papers right now.” Rae mumbles, but you hear the smile in her voice. It makes you crack a grin, too. 
More hello’s and shy introductions to the people in the lobby. Sykkuno’s green astronaut pops in with a upbeat, “Hey, everyone! Hi, Y/n!” as his character circles around yours. A collective awww echoes in your stream chat as you, quite breathless at the wholesomeness, reply with a “Hi! Hi hi!” as well.
Corpse is next to join, mysteriously ominous. The discord call is pure chaos, everyone screaming over the other variations of his name while stressing different syllables. Silent as a grave, he just stands there, his black astronaut seemingly eyeing everyone in the lobby. 
Alas, when the noise dies down, he utters, “Whaddup, baby.” and it’s pandemonium all over again. You are screeching/laughing along with the rest. His astronaut swiftly glides to Sykkuno, still circling around you, “Hey, Sykkuno.” He says. The latter abruptly stops. The game hasn’t even started, and already - betrayal! Sykkuno starts circling around Corpse now, leaving you in the dust.
“Hey, dude!”
“Yo,” You interrupt, “I’m like here too, yeah?”
“Fight, fight, fight!” Pokimane jeers. You can’t see her, but you’re certain she’s pumping her fists in the air. 
“Let’s leave the bloodshed for the game, yeah?” Dream offers past her laugh ridden urging.
“No, fuck that, let’s start this shit right now,” Charlie declares - his monotone is strangely pleasant to the ear, and you lean back in your chair with a thoughtful hum. Something about his energy just clicks with yours instantly, but perhaps you’re judging too quickly- “Got my fucking knife ready to slit some throats. You can all pretend you aren’t ready to kill on sight, but that’s not me. I’ll teabag your dead fucking body.”
-yeah, no, your initial estimate had been correct! What a pleasant surprise, you feel like you and he will get along beautifully. 
“Way to be subtle, Charles.” Rae snorts.
“Subtle doesn’t make an interesting game, Rae,” He’s quick to bite back, “and if I’m Impostor, you bet your fucking ass I’m going after you first.”
“Noooooo!” She shrieks, rushing to your astronaut, which is still just standing there, abandoned, like the equivalent of that one emoji, “Y/n, protect me.”
“Of course, baby.” You purr. 
There’s mumbling in the discord call, though it’s barely audible. Corpse seems to be repeating the word to himself: Baby...Baby?...Baby...
“You’re gonna stab me in the back the first chance you get, won’t you?” She questions, already painfully aware of the answer.
“You know it!”
“Finally, someone that’s not fucking cowering in their boots and flaunting their real nature.” Charlie says, “Y/n, form a Big Dick Alliance with me.”
“Oh for sure, man.” You agree immediately, trailing to his in game figure, “Let’s show these virgins how it’s done.”
“This is going to be a mess, isn’t it?” Sean’s voice rings with a cheerful laugh, making you flustered. Yes, you’re actually playing with THE JacksepticeyeTM. You still haven’t fully wrapped your head around that part, “I’m very excited to see where this will go.”
“Nowhere good.” You say with unparalleled sincerity - every word you speak to him, the icon, the legend, the one of the few youtubers you actually actively follow, must be genuine. You doubt you can lie to him. He’s too good of a person. You admire him too much. Stuck between wanting to be a shady bitch and an absolute saint, you refrain from addressing him more - you are simply not worthy.
its the y/n trying to act like a normal person in front of jack for me
ikr she looks ready to join the monastery
each day we stray closer to gods light???
Your viewers are snide as always. Gosh, you love them.
The last player pops in, fashionably late, “Hey, y’all.”
“Hey, Bretman!” The call choruses somewhat harmoniously.
“Hi, daddy.” He’s speaking to Corpse now, a smile in his voice - you can hear it even past the static of his atrocious mic. Your eyes widen, eyebrows shooting up. Your friends are cackling, but confusion refrains you from doing the same - were you not the only one Corpse offered, seemingly so long ago!, to be his sugar baby? 
One betrayal after the other. You’re glad for the Big Dick Alliance. The name has a nice right to it, too. 
Corpse laughs, “...Hey, Bretman. How are you today?”
Damn, two sentences for him, but not even a word spoken to you!? You’re already scripting a very melodramatic paragraph you will text him after the stream. With poorly masked discontent, you mutter, “Wow, thanks for such a warm welcome, Corpse, my day’s going great, yeah, loving the company.”
“Now now miss girl,” Bretman chimes, “we can’t be all daddy’s favorite.”
“Careful,” Charlie drones, “I think you just got yourself onto Y/n’s shit list.”
“Right next to Corpse Husband and Valkyrae.” You agree, “Sykkuno!” You suddenly call him.
“Uhm-Uh-Yes?” Is his nervous reply.
“You’re safe.” You state coldly, “For now.”
“You are not going after Sykkuno on my watch.” It must be a belated holiday miracle because Corpse finally decides to address you. His words seem to awake something in him, “Hey-Hey-Hey-” He swiftly glides to you, standing right next to your minute virtuous angel, “When are you coming back to Cali?”
corpse stop acting weird challenge
literally omg lmao
he does bring up a good point y/n y u not in cali yet?!
^pack it up corpse simp he disrespected the queen when he didnt say hi
“Back off, buddy,” Charlie interjects, “this spot is for Big Dick Alliance members only.”
“I’m never returning.” You inform him, your voice cold like the Arctic snow, and the look in your eyes is no kinder. You feel like you’re having a stare down through screen. 
Silence stretches. Is this an intimidation tactic? Because if it is, it’s a paltry one. Your conviction to be petty is stronger than any vulnerability you might feel.
“Then I have nothing to say to you.” He admits and fucks right off with that. Fine, go join Sykkuno and Rae in their little corner of betrayal! Friendship ended with Corpse, now Charlie is your best friend.
“Okay, guys, guys, guys-” Toast, noting this is going to spiral any minute now, tries to catch their attention, “Let’s start?!”
You look into your camera, and the roaches know what you’re thinking. You’re twins like that, communicating telepathically. You are taking back your tender promise of not being a conniving bastard. It’s fucking on. You will destroy everyone in your path, starting with the guy you have a stupid crush on - maybe?! Feelings are confusing, you’d rather just not think point blank period.
With no objections from the cast, the counter ticks away seconds and, for the first round, you’re stuck as CREW MATE.
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Charlie is a gift. Truly, you had not expected such a sudden, wonderful relationship to bloom. How have you not known of him sooner?! It’s a crime that you hadn’t spoken to him earlier. You are a 100% certain if you had found him before you started streaming, he would’ve been a big inspiration. 
The two of you do your silly little tasks and curse like sailors, commenting about this and that thanks to proximity chat. You wouldn’t have been able to stand the claustrophobic silence if it was just a normal Among Us game - to think, missing out on all his foully worded quips! It almost springs a tear into your eye. He’s just as unhinged as you.
worried about this dynamic 
its a trainwreck lol i love it plz collab more plz
Caught in a headed discussion in Electrical - TikTok trends, or audios specifically - you defend the app the best you can. Charlie thinks it’s super cringe, and you insist it’s part of the charm as you connect wires.
“I mean, have...-do you know that one audio, the one that goes, like,” You’re spilling your words, heated, frustrated that he’s so dismissive of the app that literally saved 2020, “it goes like, uhm,” You clear your throat, prep your voice - even take a sip of your favorite drink. Drawing the syllables, you try your best to make it drop an octave - it must sound like you’re doing an atrociously bad and nauseatingly scratchy Corpse impression with an extra dramatic flair, “My assssssss, your cockkk, you do the mathhh.”
“Did-Did I just-” You freeze hearing Corpse’s voice, finally done with your task. Charlie is muffling his laughter behind his palm; Corpse’s astronaut stands in the doorway, “What the fuck did I just walk into?” He seems genuinely confused, though a strangely winded. You’re mortified. Your shoulders are shaking. You look at the stream chat but it’s going too fast for you to follow. Manic laughter bubbles in your chest and you squeeze your eyes shut, mouth split into a toothy grin, lowering your head and trying to hide the blush dusting your cheeks.
“Hey? Guys? What the fuck are you talking about?” He questions again.
“Honestly?” Charlie chimes, “No fucking clue. TikTok, I think. Ask Y/n.”
You can’t reply. You’re crying. You cover your face with your palms, muttering a soft oh my god before bursting into a full blow laugh, throwing your head back, the motion accidentally knocking your headphones off.
“Y/n.” Corpse calls you, “Fuck was that?”
You’re howling. Your stomach hurts. There are literal tears in your eyes. You think Charlie might be laughing too, but you can’t really tell over your loud screeching. Hastily fixing your headphones, you wipe away the tears stuck to your lower lashes, heaving, “S-Sorry, I-” You stutter, breaking into another fit of giggles. Corpse patiently waits you to calm down. Catching your breath, you start again with a sniffle, “TikTok, yeah.” You idly fix your hair, trying to bite down a smile, “It’s an audio.”
“What- What kind of videos are you watching?”
“The good kind.” Your reply is instant, merciless, “Also, why are you here? We’re having a BDA meeting, you know.”
“I-I...” He trails off, “I...I heard people talking and...I just came here to check it out, but...I’m regretting it.” There’s a lilt in his voice, and you know he doesn’t regret jack shit. You bet he’s smiling. You wish you could see it.
“Bitch, then leave!” You huff. You aren’t sure what is with him today, and you don’t want to stick around and find out - his playfulness makes your stomach flip at the most inappropriate times! Like when you’re trying to sound threatening. You must retreat posthaste, “No, wait, I’ll do it for you.” You say, brushing past his character. Charlie follows after you.
“Dude, you’re so fucking lucky neither of us are the Impostor because you’d be deader than I’ve been feeling since I was 10.” Your favorite companion comments. Charlie is truly a modern wordsmith. You’re pretty sure you adore him, because you’re nodding your head, so quick to agree with him that even you’re surprised. 
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A meeting is called. You spare a glance at your fallen crew mates. They will be missed. Sean most of all, God, why does heaven always take the good ones?! The game feels emptier without him, even if you really only passed him once on your trek to Cafeteria with Charlie.
You may or may not have been avoiding him, afraid you’d accidentally say something horrible and he would hate you. It’s a silly fear, though a deep one. And with Charlie keeping you company, you had not uttered a single objectively  good, or even coherent, sentence. Your parents can’t watch this stream once it’s uploaded onto your Youtube channel. They know you’re barely keeping it together in most of your videos, but here, now? Yeah, no. Charlie is already hard to listen to on his own for sensitive viewers, and hearing you agree with literally everything he says with your own chaotic ideas? Your dad would stumble into an early grave.
Mom probably wouldn’t mind too much, but you’d have to explain your relationship status again. She is under the assumption that everyone you collab with is your significant other. You’d say it began with Sykkuno, though the exclamation of “Finally! My daughter isn’t pathetically single! We need to celebrate.” had started with Rae. Truly, a scandal.
Speaking of which, Sykkuno is gone, too, but you had time to mourn him already. You found his body roughly ten minutes ago; so torn with the fresh agony of heartbreak, you could not do anything else but cry. It was Charlie, bless his heart, that reported it.
“Someone killed Jack,” You say, voice dripping with venom, “court is now in session. I’m ready to vote the fucker out.”
People speak all at once. Toast roars over them, “ORDER! ODER IN COURT!” as he slams his hand onto his desk repeatedly. That seems to work, though briefly.
“I think it’s Y/n.” Corpse says. You stare at him, hand gripping your heart, mouth falling open in surprise.
flame him
corpse boutta be a corpse fr
beat his ass queen!!!!!
“Pardon my french,” You grumble, “but nani the fuck?!”
“It’s definitely Y/n, I found her and Charlie conspiring in Electrical. Surrealist experience of my fucking life, but it’s definitely her.”
“Dude, we’ve been over this,” Charlie sighs, shushing Rae who was about to comment something - knowing your luck, it was probably in favor of the man throwing you under the bus, “we would’ve snapped your fucking neck the moment you walked in. But we didn’t.”
“Yeah, we didn’t.” Corpse notes, “I said nothing about you, I’m just saying it’s definitely her. She probably didn’t kill in front of you because of your stupid alliance-”
“Someone sounds salty because he wasn’t invited.” Pokimane snickers.
“-or possibly she did tell you and you won’t betray her for the exact same reason.”
“That’s some big brain logic you pulled there, genius,” Charlie says, absolutely unimpressed, “sure you didn’t have an aneurysm trying to connect all of that together?”
“Well,” Rae pipes up, “Y/n and Charlie did say they will kill right before the game started. If you ask me, it’s not unbelievable. And Sykkuno was sorta on the shit list.”
“I’m writing down your name twice, Rachell.” You spit.
“Not helping your case at all, Y/n...” Dream worries, “And Rae makes a good point. Charlie and you have professed desire for murder. I’m just saying! It’s a bit suspicious, you know?”
The next words to leave Corpse’s lips sound incredibly smug, “See?” He drawls.  The pressure is getting to you - you don’t understand where this beguiling talent of his to convince literally everyone comes from, but it doesn’t inspire any confidence. Your fist suddenly feels incredibly lonely, so useless - oh, how you long to swing at him, “It’s definitely Y/n.”
“I dunno...” Toast mumbles.
“It’s Y/n.”
“Corpse-” You try, but he's ignoring you - shocker, as if he hadn’t been doing that from the very start of this stupid game - and chanting your name like it’s a fucking mantra or something, a smile in his voice, knowing, relishing in the fact that he’s grating on your nerves, “FIRST OF ALL,” You scream into the mic, successfully cutting him off; catching your breath, you exhale, and continue, calmly, lowly,  “get my pretty name out of your mouth.” 
There’s a pause full of tense silence. 
Then, there’s a sound, seemingly stuck in the back of his throat, “...O-Oh...?”
“Second of all,” You continue, words like honey dipped in arsenic, “This is the clearest smear campaign I have ever witnessed. By how hard you’re trying to frame me for fuck knows what reason, I’m led to believe it’s you that killed them. You’re the Impostor.”
“Corpse wouldn’t kill Sykkuno, though.” Rae comments, skeptical.
“Then the other Impostor did it.” You counter.
“Maybe you’re both Impostors.” Pokimane chirps.
“Y/n would never betray the Big Dick Alliance like that.” Charlie states.
You grin, “Charlie, I literally love you.” 
“Wait hold up now,” Corpse seems to get his bearings together, “what’s this about love I’m hearing?”
“I have none for you, dick.” You snap, flipping him off. Your chat cheers. While he can’t see it, you hope he senses it through the screen, “I officially hate you.”
“No, wait-”
“Boo, Corpse, you suck.” Toast laughs.
“Y/n, please-”
“Let’s all vote for Corpse Husband, okay?” You say it like it’s his full official name with an encouraging smile and multiple soft nods. Sykkuno can’t be here to nod, so you’ll do it for him. You eye the rapidly decreasing timer before clicking on Corpse’s figure and voting for him. The VOTED icon instantly pops up beside your adorable astronaut.
“Baby, I-” It slips past his lips so easily, as if he’s not even thinking about it, like it’s only natural to call you that and a spike of anxiety shoots up, making you glare. It’s only halfhearted. You try your best to ignore the rapid and uncoordinated pulses of your heart. Replace unwanted feelings with anger and hate - works like a charm, every time.
“You are not allowed to call me that.” You hiss. The chat spams snake emojis. 
“Wait-” Bretman chimes, “Hold up, y’all, slow down a minute. Why does Corpse never call me baby?”
“Yeah!” Pokimane agrees, “I want to be baby, too!”
Pokimane may not have been called baby, but you just single-handedly decided her nickname for her - Target 4. Welcome to the shit list, she is officially your public enemy number 1. You aren’t sure why the thought of Corpse ever referring to anyone else as baby makes you sick to your stomach (you actually do know why, but brain no think at the moment), but you wish this whole conversation never happened. You don’t like it.
20 seconds left. More VOTED icons appear by your friends. Corpse is the last one to cast his ballot at, you assume, you, as the rest wait for his quick explanation before everyone (or not) returns to the game, “...Because she’s my baby.”
Goodbye. Life had been sweet, and there was sorrow, though the amount of embarrassment you feel now is worse than when the internet found your cringe worthy high school pictures on your mom’s Facebook. It’s a mixture of dread and excitement - the pleasure of being noticed, cherished even, though anxious from vulnerability. Someone is screaming a very prolonged “WHAAAAT?!”, or maybe multiple people are, you aren’t sure, your ears start to hurt from the loud, conflicting cacophony of voices as you stare blankly at the screen. You received two votes, just like Corpse, Charlie got one, the rest skipped. With no one flung out, you all find yourself back in Cafeteria again.
Baby. My baby? My baby. My baby. The sentence is playing ping-pong in your mind, reverberating louder each time. You’re actually speechless for the first time in your life; your chest hurts, your heart beating so fast your hands start shaking. Had he meant it? Or was this a some joke? Was he trying to get a rise out of you again? You might just go insane from so many questions. My baby. Holy shit, this is a heart attack, this is what a heart attack feels like, dear God, you figured you at least had ten years before you get one!
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First round ends with IMPOSTORS raining victorious. Your sixth sense had been working wonders since, true to you previous estimate, it had been Corpse. His companion was Pokimane. For absolutely no reason what’s so ever, you change her name once more from Target 4 to Target 1. Normally, you’re all for girls supporting girls. Men don’t deserve anything, really, but now you’re so flustered and still reeling from what you are 80% sure was cardiac arrest that you genuinely don’t care about your established morals.
Round two starts without much deliberation. You get CREW MATE again; the game must sense your growing bloodlust, making sure that once you do get IMPOSTOR, you will not hold back. True power is granted to those who are ready and strong enough to wield it. You wait for your moment with bated breath.
Charlie is taken from you too early. The two of you were once again caught in a discussion - God knows about what, Minecraft, hentai, oh! your server! - as you tried to card swipe for the umpteenth time. The lights blew out and you just knew one of you was getting murdered there and then. Charlie’s voice abruptly cut off, and you think a part of you died with him.
It’s a cold meeting; with your new best friend being the first to go, everyone decides to skip. You proclaim you seek vengeance. When the meeting comes to an end, Sykkuno is the first to offer his condolences.
“I’m sorry, Y/n.” He says, and while he’s not in Brooklyn, you somehow feel him patting your back. You feign a sniffle.
“There’s nothing to apologize for...” You murmur sadly, “Unless...” Your voice turns sharp as the knife that was surely twisted into Charlie’s back, “It was you?”
“NO!” He exclaims, “I would never-you gotta believe me! I would never kill him. I know he’s important to you. I wouldn’t do that, I swear.”
“He was like a brother to me.” You admit, solemn, “Charlie, if you’re haunting me right now, know I will avenge you. I will not let this go.”
Sykkuno hums, circling around you, “Hey, I have a task in Greenhouse. Would you, uh--Would like to, uhm, join me?” Despite the shaky start, he finishes on a firm, pleasant note. He’s trying to cheer you up. Having lost your closest friend, he’s offering you his company. You accept with a soft smile and a cute “Yes, please!” and he releases an airy little laugh. The two of you make your way to your favorite place in map MIRA.
It’s difficult to stay sad for long when Sykkuno’s so sweet; the atmosphere of the Greenhouse is strangely calming; your problems seem to be left behind the shut doors. If you tried hard enough, you could imagine being in an actual Greenhouse - the warm, damp air clinging to your skin, the unmistakable smell of earth and vegetation, the pleasant silence broken only by yours and his hushed voices and clumsy footsteps.
The two of you are talking. Mainly about your choice of attire. Cat first, Sykkuno ponders aloud, doing his task as you watch the plants grow, now bunny, what’s next? You affirm that you will most likely dress up in cow-print next, or as an adorable sheep. He laughs, admitting you’ll look good in anything before he trails off. His awkwardness is really endearing. 
“Or!” You chirp happily, content with being locked away with him for the whole game. The idea must be playing in his mind, too, because he seems in no rush to leave, “I could, like, dress as someone from My Hero Academia. I watched the stream you did with Stella, the one where she made you look like Todoroki. It was really cute. You were really cute.”
“Oh, uhm-well, uh, thank you, thanks, I, uhm-” He clears his throat, and despite his stutter, you hear the smile in his voice, “I-I think you’d look better, though. Not as Todoroki. Or, probably as Todoroki, too. But, uhm, what character are you thinking about?”
“Maybe Momo?”
“Momo!” He yeps, “Momo is good. Yeah, she’s great. You’ll-uhm-you’ll look amazing. Really. Momo is awesome. Very pretty. Just like you.”
You are blushing. A stupid, toothy grin makes your cheeks hurt. Your eyes flicker to the chat, but again, it’s going wild. Giggling, you thank him for his sweet words, so giddy it’s honestly embarrassing. Why can’t you stop smiling? This is incriminating. You hide your lips behind your palm.
“...What’s this?” Corpse question. You had failed to note his sudden appearance, too busy gushing. “Am I interrupting?”
“Hey, Corpse!” Sykkuno greets. For someone so awkward and shy, he sure is good at hiding it when he wants to. Perhaps it’s all an act and you had been deviously tricked! Probably not, but you can’t help but narrow your eyes suspiciously, finally able to calm down. You definitely underestimated him, you just haven’t figured out how yet, “Not really! Y/n was sad Charlie died so I took her here.”
“You interrupted our date, dipshit.” You deadpan. 
“...Fuck you say?” Corpse dares, his voice low and somewhat menacing - for someone who exclusively portrays his emotions through only his voice, he’s incredibly hard to read. This is payback. Your love for wreaking havoc resurfaces suddenly. Serves him right for pulling all this ignoring shit at the start. Maybe you’ll make him say oh again.
Your sly smirk is promptly wiped. Fuck. He said oh, he literally said oh out loud. The Teruhashi fangirl in you is screaming. You had been so caught up in defending yourself you didn’t even register it at first. Alarmed, you look at the camera, then at the chat. First oh, then my baby. There’s no way he had been teasing you, and this proves it. Holy shit. You mouth the words “HE SAID OH!” for your audience only.
now she notices
snail pace baby we’ve been loosing our shit for the past hour 
corpse x y/n saikik au enemies to lovers 500k words slow burn im here for it
opening wattpad rn^
Your heart races in your chest - it might be considered an Olympic medalist at this point; flustered yet again, you wish you could cave into yourself. You should’ve brought your bright blue wig with you to Brooklyn. Turns out it would have been perfect for this stream. Yes, yes thinking about unnecessary details always works in distracting you from the butterflies throwing a fucking rave in your stomach. 
“I guess it is a date!” Sykkuno admits, “Kinda after a funeral, but still.”
Corpse hums. You’re still too stunned to say anything. The black astronaut with adorable cat ears approaches Sykkuno. 
“It’s not.�� He states. Your mouth falls open in shock as your date, your companion, the Shoto to your Momo is murdered in cold blood right in front of you. His lifeless body, cut in half, lays on the tiles by the growing flowers, right beside you, “You didn’t see shit.”
“...I didn’t see shit.” Is all you can utter, breathless and terrified.
“Thaaaat’s fucking right, baby.” Corpse coos, “Now I’m gonna report it, and I’ll say we found Sykkuno together. Better stick close to me after the meeting, got it?”
If Sykkuno is Shoto, then Corpse is definitely Dabi. 
why is that kinda hot tho omg
didn’t know i needed dom corpse since now but i do
y/n looks like shes boutta throw up lmao 
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You follow him around like a lost puppy - because what else is left for you to do!? You’re helpless in this situation. He’s got you in the palm of his hand, successfully eliminating everyone you had previously interacted with. First it was Charlie, then Sykkuno, even Sean, who said hello in passing, was shot instantly. Real Sangwoo behavior. You almost want to scream warnings at everyone to not approach you. You cannot mourn another lost crew mate, you don’t think your conscience can take it. But words fail to form. You’re too weak. You fake cry to your audience. They’re quick to remind you to stop acting like a little bitch.
“Mean.” Is all you say, eyeing the comments.
“Hm?”
“Was talking to the roaches.”
“What are they saying?”
“That I should betray you.”
“...Better not.”
A shiver shoots up your spine and you half believe he will bust down your door and drag you into his basement for real. A nervous laugh slips past your lips, “I won’t, I won’t.” You reassure him, “Don’t worry, I’m sticking with you. I haven’t seen shit.”
“I like that you listen to me. You always this agreeable?”
“You’re kinda not giving me a choice right now.” You grumble, vending yourself a drink while he looms behind you, protecting you. From who?! Himself?!
“Oh my fucking God, finally,” Bretman exclaims, “girl, I’ve been running around the whole map trynna find someone, is everyone like, dead?”
You’re scared to reply. Corpse does it for you, “Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, maybe? Not sure. Where have you been?”
“Oh you know,” Bretman grins, “doing tasks, talking shit, the usual. You two are not, like, Impostors right?”
You shoot a look at Corpse, but he obviously can’t see it. Biting your lip, you murmur, “Nope.”
“Just your regular crew mates doing regular crew mate things.” Corpse says, no, purrs. Because that’s not suspicious at all. You’d recommend Bretman to run, and not only because that sounded shady as fuck. But he seems to enjoy danger, or he just doesn’t care.
“Hmmmm, crew mates, sure. Miss girl Y/n,” He’s addressing you now; you smile anxiously, “How come every time I see you, you’re with a different man?! Like damn, leave some for the rest of us, for real!”
You like Bretman. You like his high-pitched whine and drawl. You would like him even more if not for the complex situation at hand. You fear for his life. Chewing at your bottom lip, you snicker, “Sorry, Bret. I can leave you Corpse if you want?”
He laughs, “Girl, I’d say yes so fucking quick, but I know he wouldn’t want that. Normally I wouldn’t care, but y’all are such a cute couple it’s making me not want to be a shady motherfucking bitch. Changing my ways, embracing the lord. Love it.”
 Corpse doesn’t correct him that you are, in fact, not dating. His lack of reaction unnerves you slightly. Does he...? No! No think! Only exist! You catch that train of thought and steer it away from forbidden territory. Looks like it’s up to you to clear the air, and that is exactly what you do after trying to swallow down the lump in your throat, “Uh, we’re not together, actually. We’re just really good friends.”
“Bitch, then move over,” Bretman says snappily,”go like, back to your other boyfriends. Or find another one. I think I saw Dream near Navigation.”
“Near Navigation, huh?” Corpse hums thoughtfully. It’s a subtle warning, but you catch it. Yeah, even if you try running, Dream’s going to join your other ‘boyfriends’ in the afterlife. Granted, killing someone by just talking with them is kind of cool. Or maybe Stockholm Syndrome is finally kicking in, “Bret, the thing is, Y/n’s scared of dying, so she asked me to stay with her.”
It’s disturbing how good at lying he is. It is also really really attractive, as bizarre as that is.
y/n stop being in a toxic relationship with corpse challenge
making fanart of this omg her face
its the blushing for me girl get your head outta the gutter!
^she cant, it lives there
“Baby, you’re gonna fucking die if you stick with her,” Bretman points out, “have you noticed the mortality rate of her partners? Rest in peace, daddy.”
“He’s right, you know.” You mutter, dramatically looking to the side, “I’m no good, Corpse.”
“Not leaving you, end of discussion. Bretman, join us?” Corpse offers, catching you by surprise. He might still be lying, though. Creating a false sense of security before eliminating Bretman. Probably would laugh while doing it, too. Wow, he truly is evil.
Turns out he doesn’t have to do any of that, because when Dream strolls into Cafeteria, he kills Bretman instead. The two Impostors are finally revealed. You promised not to snitch on Corpse, but you didn’t say shit about not exposing Dream. You press the REPORT button and say just that: “Dream just murdered Bret right in front of me and Corpse.”
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The last meeting is called. Dream had been voted out with the help of Corpse, and now only you, he, and Rae remain.
“Baby, you know what to do.”
The VOTED icon pops up beside Corpse’s astronaut. Rae wheezes, “No! Y/n, it’s not me, you gotta believe me, I swear it’s not me!”
“...I really don’t know,” You murmur, “I’ve been with Corpse a lot, and...Rae, I’m not sure...”
“Please! I swear it on my Kagayama cardboard cut out, I’m not the Impostor, please! You know me, I’d never lie to you like this.”
“She’s definitely lying.” Corpse says, sounding pleased.
“Don’t listen to him! Remember, during the first round, when he tried to convince us that you were the Impostor? He’s doing the same shit to me!”
“I also remember you agreeing with him.” You remind her.
“I was stupid! Small dumb brain moment! He was using us to win! He’s using you right now!” She votes, “Please, Y/n, make the right choice.”
You’re silent for a moment.
“I’m gonna...I’m gonna vote for who I think it is.” You lastly say.
A slow, lazy grin makes it’s way onto your lips, eyes gleaming mischievously. You had not forgotten your promise to your brother from another mother, you had not forgotten the pride of the BDA, you had not forgotten your beautiful friendship. Two miniature astronauts pop up by Corpse’s at the exact moment Rae screeches “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEES!”
“Fuck.” Is all Corpse says with a laugh.
The screen changes, informing of the first CREW MATE victory.
Your ears are assaulted with different voices as you appear in the lobby.
“Now that’s what I’m fucking talking about.” Charlie raves, “I swear to fucking God, Y/n, you even got me going for a second. Pulled some 1000 IQ shit right there. It was fucking amazing. Best back stabbing I’ve seen in a while, and I’ve seen a lot.”
“That was absolutely fantastic, Y/n.” Sean applauds, “I really thought you joined Corpse like some crew mate accomplice or something. Can’t believe you switched on him at the last second.”
“That’s my wifey!” Rae cheers, strolling to you, “Love you, mwah.”
“Hey, Corpse,” Charlie calls him, “How does it feel to be a fucking loser?”
“I’m surprisingly fine with it.”
yeah he would be lmao
mom is the best snake ever i love you sm y/n
rae and y/n’s friendship....the feeeeeels
As the rest sing your praises for another solid minute or two, the third round begins. CREW MATE again. Though, just because you’re stuck as an underpaid worker in a dying spaceship, it doesn’t mean you’re innocent. Your last round proved that quite well. You can’t help but silently snicker.
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TAGLIST IS CLOSED!
tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @bingusmode - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury--moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai
more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙
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agustdakasuga · 3 years
Text
Between the Bloodshed | Chapter 13
Genre: Mafia!AU, Angst, Romance, Fluff
Pairing: OT7 x Reader
Characters: Doctor!Reader, Gangster!Namjoon, Gangster!Seokjin, Gangster!Yoongi, Gangster!Hoseok, Gangster!Jimin, Gangster!Taehyung, Gangster!Jungkook
Summary: Being a freelance doctor, this was just supposed to be any other job, helping a private client and taking care of him through his recovery. But you were not expecting to get caught in something so much darker that would change your life entirely.
It’s finally time to head to Florida. Your aim is to relax by the beach, forget whatever happened in Korea and reset your brain. The boys also have some important things to tell you. 
Warning: This story is fictional and has nothing to do with real life events or the actual members of BTS. It may contain depictions of violence, blood shed/ gore and mentions of abuse. Please read at your own discretion.
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“Yes, omma. I’ll be home in time for oppa’s arrival.” You sighed, standing by your window as you spoke to your mother. You were leaving for Florida tonight but she seemed more worried that you wouldn’t be around when your brother and heavily pregnant sister in law arrived. 
“I’m not a gynaecologist. The only thing I’ll do is look after Jisung.” Your nephew was the only one you could tolerate.
“Bye, omma.” You cut her off, hanging up. You planned to turn off your phone while you travelled as well. Someone cleared their throat from behind you and you jumped slightly, turning around. 
“Busy?” Namjoon asked. 
“Yes- Wait, I mean, no. What’s up?” You forced a smile, tucking your phone into the pocket of your lab coat. 
“You said you have a list of medical supplies that you wanted to order?” He reminded. You facepalmed, forgetting to print the list out to pass to Namjoon last night. 
“Hang on a sec, I’ll print it out.” You sat at your desk, going on your computer. Namjoon just patiently sat opposite you. You retrieved your document that you typed out a few days ago and clicked on the print button. The button whirled to life, starting to feed the document out. You sighed, rubbing your temples as you waited for it. 
“Family stress?” Namjoon chuckled. 
“You already know... Her star child is coming home and her second grandchild is about to be born soon. She’s ecstatic.” You scoff. 
“I hope you enjoy this break then. Before you have to deal with all the bullsh*t when we get back.” Namjoon smiled, his dimple popping through. He was so genuine, you felt yourself melt. 
“Thanks, Joon. I think we all need a break.” You handed him the paper. 
“Right. When do you need these?” He waved the paper in the air. You shrugged, a sign that it wasn’t important. 
“Alright. Make sure you packed everything.” Namjoon ruffled your hair before leaving. You turned around in your chair, putting your feet on top of the desk, something your mother always scolded you for. 
“(y/n)!” Your door burst open, hitting the adjacent door with a loud sound. You jumped to your feet immediately. 
“What-” You yelped when Jimin grabbed your waist, clearly using you as his human shield. You blinked in confusion, until Taehyung and Hoseok ran in with water guns in your hands, cackling. Your eyes widened as the nozzles were somehow pointing at you now. 
“YAH! I DARE YOU!” You threatened. 
“Save me!” Jimin said between giggles. You slapped his hands away from your hips, making him whimper. 
“What are you guys doing?” Jungkook stopped by the door, blinking. At the maknae’s presence, Hoseok and Taehyung turned to face their guns at him. Jungkook jumped with a yelp, ducking behind the wall. 
“Let’s go.” Jimin whispered, sliding open the glass door that led to the garden from your office. 
“What about Jung-”
“Forget him. We need to save ourselves.” Jimin grabbed your hand, seeing the two still aiming at Jungkook. With a tug, he pulled you out with him, escaping Taehyung and Hoseok. From behind you, you heard a loud scream that most probably came from Hoseok. All you could say was, that’s what you get for going against Jungkook. 
“Park Jimin!” You heard Taehyung screech. 
“Run!” Jimin abandoned you, running away in a different direction. Your eyes widened, obviously you threatening Taehyung wasn’t going to work. 
“YOONGLES!” Your eyes caught sight of the pale man, walking back into the house, a book tucked under his arm. Yoongi turned around just to see you running towards him. 
“HELP!” You ducked behind him. 
“What?!” He hissed, dropping the book and taking his gun out from his holster, aiming at whoever was after you. When Taehyung ran over, he froze. 
“H-Hey hyung, we’re just playing. No need to get all serious.” Taehyung stepped back when he saw the pistol in Yoongi’s hand. Yoongi sighed, lowering his gun to put it back into the holster. He turned around, looking at you. 
“In my opinion, I was doing my work when they came and threatened me. I was in real danger.” You shrugged. 
“Yah, leave her alone. She’s working.” Yoongi scolded Taehyung. Taehyung pouted, lowering his water gun. No way would any of them dare to shoot Yoongi, unless they had a death sentence. He ran off to chase Jimin instead. Yoongi shook his head, picking his book up from the ground. 
“Thanks, Yoonie!” You saluted with a grin. 
“As thank you, I’m going to eat your last slice of cheesecake in the fridge.” He said, walking back into the house. Your jaw dropped slightly. 
“B-But... That’s mine! You can’t take it! Min Yoongi! Don’t you dare touch my cheesecake!” You chased after him. Yoongi just smiled to himself, shaking his head slightly. 
The rest of the day was quiet until it was time to leave. You were waiting in the living room, playing with Kookie. 
“I wish you could come with us, Kookie.” You rubbed his ears. Behind you, the boys were all scrambling for last minute items that they forgot to pack. 
“What are we going to do with them, huh?” You held Kookie up, adjusting him in your lap. You yawned, waiting for the chaos to be over. There was Namjoon tripping over Jungkook’s luggage, Yoongi and Jungkook squabbling over underwear, Jin just packing everything but the kitchen sink with Taehyung stopping him and Hoseok scolding Jimin for making a mess. 
“Uh, young masters... The cars are ready when you’re ready to leave.” The butler spoke. 
“I’m ready to leave.” You stood up. The maids brought your bags out to the awaiting cars. You kissed Kookie goodbye before handing him to the butler who would be caring for him in your absence. 
“Take care of him.” You smiled. 
“I will, agashi. Don’t worry.” He bowed his head. You nodded and headed out to the vans. The driver opened the door for you to enter. 
“Think you could leave without us?” Hoseok opened the door with a grin, entering to seat behind you. 
“You guys take way too long.” You scoffed, looking out the window. Namjoon climbs into the other back seat while Yoongi takes the seat beside you in the second row. From your tinted window, you see Taehyung and Jimin climbing into one van while Jungkook and Jin climb into the other. 
“I can’t wait to get on the plane to sleep.” Hoseok stretched his arms with a loud yawn. You nodded in agreement, pulling your hoodie up. The vans pulled up to the VIP entrance of Incheon airport. 
“Right this way, young masters.” The doors opened for you and suited males grabbed your suitcases for you. 
“Stay close.” Jin said, making you grab his arm to avoid straying away from him. 
“Let’s check in.” Namjoon rounded everyone up, giving their passports to the lady, along with yours. You all verified your names and the tickets were issued. From the looks of it, you would all be flying first class. 
“I can’t afford first class. I’ll sit in coach.” You crossed your arms. 
“As if we would let you sit in coach. You may be stubborn doc but you haven’t seen all 7 of us at once.” Jimin challenged. You rolled your eyes, receiving your passport back with your ticket tucked in. When all the luggages were checked in, one of the managers escorted the 8 of you to the private lounge to wait. There were only 5 other people in there, minding their own business. 
“I’m hungry!” Jungkook declared, pulling you up with him to head to the buffet table. You sighed but let yourself be dragged away. 
“Koo, don’t get indigestion.” You told him as you held a plate for him to pile food on. On his dessert plate, you grabbed one of his mini cream puffs, placing it into your mouth. 
“Hey! Get your own!” Jungkook pouted. 
“Then hold your own plate, Jeon Jungkook.” You glared. After he was done, you placed his plates on his table. 
“You didn’t get any for yourself?” Taehyung asked. 
“I was merely a plate holder.” You scoffed. Taehyung laughed, following you back out to get some snacks for yourself. You only took some fruits and water, planes making you feel bloated if you ate too much. 
“Thanks, Tae.” You said, sitting back down. You ate some from the plate in your lap until Jimin leaned over with his mouth open, wanting a piece. 
“Here.” You fed him a halved strawberry. Yoongi was comfortably settled in his seat, enjoying a short nap. Jungkook went for a second round of food, this time bringing Hoseok along with him. Namjoon had his iPad perched on his lap, typing away with a small frown on his face. 
“Frowning is going to get you wrinkles, Joon.” You chuckled, reaching across to give him a piece of watermelon. He shot you a grateful smile before closing his iPad to eat what you offered.
“We should head to the gate.” Jin rounded everyone up. Jungkook stuffed whatever food he could into his mouth before walking with you. 
“Don’t choke. Chew slowly, you big baby.” You patted his back, urging him to chew slowly. 
“Welcome aboard.” The crew greeted you at the door, the flight manager escorted you to the first class cabin. You settled in your comfy seat, realising that Namjoon sat on the other side of the partition. 
“Seat buddy.” You grinned, shooting finger guns at him. He chuckled, shaking his head as the flight attendant placed a champagne flute before him. 
“Mr Kim, we have made sure that you have the entire first class cabin, as per your request. So please be assured that there is optimum privacy for you and your family to roam when the seat belt sign is off.” The manager told Jin, who nodded his head in approval. The flight attendants handed out pre-flight drinks and the menu. 
“You guys can’t be serious. Booking the whole first class cabin?” You rolled your eyes. 
“It’s for privacy, doc.” Namjoon said, flipping through his newspaper. Once the safety demo was done by the flight attendants, the plane took off. You had your headphones on, playing music as you read your book. 
“Are you just going to read?” Jimin asked. You nodded your head and he pouted, sighing in annoyance. 
“I’m gonna sleep too.” You added. 
PING!
The seatbelt sign turned off. Yoongi had the flight attendant turn his seat into a bed, his figure curled under the blanket, ready to sleep. Hoseok was watching a show on his iPad while Jin was snacking. 
“Yah, don’t disturb him.” You chided Taehyung and Jimin, who were trying to disturb a sleeping Jungkook. He hadn’t even lowered his seat, still in an upright position with his neck  tilted down. That was gonna cause some pain when he woke up. 
“Let me lower his seat.” You unbuckled your seatbelt, heading over and pressing the button so he would be in a more comfortable position. 
“You’re starting to baby him.” Taehyung clicked his tongue. 
“I baby Yoongles too, he just pretends to hate it.” You shrugged, adjusting Jungkook’s blanket and fluffing the pillow under his head. Jungkook remained asleep, even when you moved his head. 
“Boring.” Jimin took his switch out, challenging Taehyung in a game. You just turned back to your book. 
“Never thought I’d see the day. You, the fierce doctor, admitting that you care and baby the boys.” Namjoon chuckled from beside you, neatly folding his newspapers and setting it aside. 
“Jungkook’s the youngest and Yoongi can only use one arm. I’m not that heartless, Joon.” You scoffed. Namjoon held his hands up in defence and you rolled your eyes. Taking out your laptop, you began to type out notes that you made from reading your book. You were learning more efficient ways to stabilise fatal injuries such as stabbings or gunshot wounds. 
“Take a break, doc. Stop learning how to kill us.” Hoseok joked. 
“I don’t need to learn what I already know.” You spoke, not looking up from your screen as you typed. 
“Oh doc, you’re just so comical.” Jin chuckled. 
“I try my best.” You raised your eyebrows. Soon, the flight attendants came around to give out menus for the inflight meals. You hummed as you flipped through the selection. 
“What do you fancy?” Namjoon asked. 
“Salad and soup.” You shrugged. Meanwhile, the boys were ordering their steaks and pasta, filling up until they were full and satisfied. 
“The appetite you guys have never fail to amuse me.” You snorted. Yoongi, who was picking and tearing his butter roll, nodded in agreement. You didn’t need to eat much, watching the boys eat their hefty portions was enough to make you feel full.
“Did I miss lunch?!” Jungkook exclaimed. 
“Right on time. We just finished up.” Taehyung chuckled, wiping his mouth with the napkin. While the flight attendants served desserts, Jungkook ordered his huge main course. 
“Can I have some sparkling water?” You ordered after finishing your fruit plate. The flight attendant gave you a weird look but Namjoon cleared his throat, making her jump and scurry off to fulfil your water. 
“You know, ordering something without intimidation would be nice to try for once.” You scoffed. 
“You deserve to be waited on, doc. Not be given attitude from the likes of people like her.” Namjoon sipped his wine. Yoongi, who had a glass of whiskey, nodded in agreement. You sighed as the flight attendant placed the glass of sparkling water down on your side table. She bowed her head to you, keeping her head down before leaving. 
-
“Young masters, agashi. Welcome.” The entire staff lined up before the huge beach house, bowing as you all stepped out of the vans. 
“Get the bags. I hope doc’s room has been prepared like we instructed.” Namjoon ordered and they bowed, rushing to unload all the bags and bring them in. You followed the boys in, carrying your airplane bag with you. 
“Agashi, allow me to show you your room.” A maid bowed and you gave a backwards wave to the boys, following her up. Your room had a balcony facing the sea. 
“It’s beautiful.” You noted. 
“If there is anything, please do not hesitate to let me know. The other members of staff will be up with your belongings shortly.” She bowed. 
“Thank you.” You smiled. She looked a little shocked. 
“I-It’s no problem, agashi. Have a nice rest.” She bowed again before leaving. Once the door closed, you threw your bag aside, falling back onto the comfy bed. You let out a sigh of bliss, staring at the ceiling. Standing up, you headed to the small balcony attached to your room. 
“(y/n)!” Jimin poked his head out from his room window to wave at you. You chuckled, sending a small wave back. 
*KNOCK KNOCK*
“Come in.” You turned around to see two butlers with your bags. 
“Thank you. You can set them over here.” You directed them. After stacking your bags neatly, they bowed and left you alone. You took your time to unpack your things into the cupboards and closet provided. 
“(y/n)! Let’s go swimming!” The youngest 3 burst into your room, the door slamming into the adjacent wall loudly. 
“Yah, you guys need to learn how to knock.” You scolded. 
“Come on!” 
“Guys, we just got here. Let me unpack and RELAX!” You shoved all 3 of them out of your room, slamming the door shut and locking it. You sighed, shaking your head at their protests. Humming, you continued to unpack your things at your own pace. After you were done, you looked out the window and saw the boys playing in the water, splashing around. 
‘I’m outside your door. - Yoongi’
Your phone buzzed. You frowned in confusion at the sudden text, going to open your room door. Yoongi stood there, in black board shorts and a black linen shirt. The first two buttons were undone, revealing his pale skin. 
“Not a fan of the sun, Mr Cullen?” You raised an eyebrow. 
“I’m just here to bring you to the beach.” He sighed. You nodded, going into the bathroom to change into some lighter clothes. 
“Let’s go!” You hooked arms with him. As usual, Yoongi didn’t pull away from you. You walked out the doors and down the back porch, revealing the big beach area.
“Woah.” 
“Don’t worry about the public, this is our private beach.” Jin walked over with a plate of sandwiches. 
“I was never worried about the public but thanks.” You picked up a sandwich, going to sit on one of the lawn chairs. Yoongi took the seat beside you, leaning back with a glass of wine in his hand. With a wave of his hand, the butler offered you a glass as well, placing it on the tiny table. 
“Aren’t you going to swim?” You asked Yoongi. 
“Don’t like the water.” He scoffed. Those that were playing in the water ran up towards you and Yoongi, who didn’t even notice. Suddenly, you yelped as you were being hoisted in the air. 
“Taehyung!” You squealed, wrapping your arms around his neck. He chuckled, running towards the ocean. 
“And I can’t believe you let them rope you into this, Namjoon!” You hissed. The leader just shrugged, crossing his arms as he watched in amusement.
“Kim Taehyung, if you drop me into this water, I’ll make sure you regret it.” You threatened. Jungkook and Jimin waved their hands, encouraging their brother to just dunk you. 
“You know I stay true to my words!” You screamed as a final resort. 
“I’ll save you!” Hoseok ran over with a super soaker water gun. Taehyung jumped in shock, letting go of you. 
“Tae-” You fell into the water. You stood up, entire being wet. Even with the water to your hips, your glare was scary enough to send the boys running to shore. You ran after them while they scattered away. But of course, them being mafiosos, they were able to escape quickly. You couldn’t chase after them so you went for the next best thing.
“Yoongles!” You laid over Yoongi. 
“Yah!” Yoongi cringed as you wet his clothes with your own damp ones. You grinned at him. 
“This is gonna be a fun vacation, isn’t it Yoonie?” You said sweetly, making Yoongi groaned and roll his eyes. 
~~
Ko-fi link
Series Masterlist
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onestowatch · 3 years
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19 LGBTQIA+ Artists You Need to Listen to This PRIDE
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PRIDE is all about self-empowerment and self-determination. It’s about not just being comfortable with who you are but showing the world that there is pride to be found in being unapologetically you. And that’s why, this PRIDE, we wanted to shine a light on a small handful of our favorite LGBTQIA+ artists. Ranging from rapturous hyperpop, revelatory bossa nova meditations, romantic rave music, and everywhere in between, these are 19 LGBTQIA+ artists who deserve a spot on your PRIDE playlist and every playlist for that matter. 
girl in red
youtube
In her debut single, “i wanna be your girlfriend,” a teenage girl in red unapologetically sings of young queer love over a mesh of lofi production and jangly instrumentation that would come to define much of the bedroom pop genre. It is a standout moment of unrelenting honesty, and a serenely simple three-minute confession that would go on to strike a chord with millions who were afraid of what it meant to be something more than friends. Now, a few years later and following the release of her critically-acclaimed debut album, if i could make it go quiet, Ulven still writes with that same emotional honesty, putting forth every ounce of herself for the world to see. 
Meet Me @ The Altar
youtube
“the little lonely black alt girl i was in the 00s is living rn, she never even dared to hope she might see this 💖💖,” reads the top comment on Meet Me @ The Altar’s music video for their single “Garden.” It is a sentiment shared by much of the rising band’s fanbase, who are used to the mainstream alternative scene championing cis white males. Existing in the space between pop-punk and hardcore, Meet Me @ The Altar exists to challenge the notion that queer women of color don’t have a place in punk. And after penning a record deal with Fueled By Ramen, home to the likes of Paramore, Panic! at the Disco, and nearly every pop-punk band that made up your middle school playlist, chances are this is just the beginning for our new favorite punks.
THE BLOSSOM
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For Lily Lizotte, better known as THE BLOSSOM, music exists as the synthesis and subsequent recontextualization of a host of past experiences. From the sound of their dad belting away in his home studio to stumbling upon niche Internet subgenres, THE BLOSSOM transforms all this and more into a sound that is instantly recognizable but impossible to perfectly place. The culmination of this host of influences takes sweeping sonic form on their debut EP, ‘97 BLOSSOM, a perfectly imperfect introduction to one of the most fascinating rising artists of recent memory.
BIMINI
youtube
You may recognize BIMINI as Bimini Bon-Boulash, the runner-up on the second season of RuPaul’s Drag Race UK. And now you should familiarize yourself with Bimini, brit-pop extraordinaire. Releasing their debut single “God Save This Queen” earlier this June, Bimini deftly channels late ‘90s brit-pop and punk to deliver a single that has us absolutely living for the ensuing chaos. Serving up multiple looks throughout its eye-catching music video, “God Save This Queen” is not just a non-binary anthem but a veritable 2021 lookbook.
Hope Tala
youtube
With a sound that falls somewhere between turn-of-the-century R&B and bossa nova, Hope Tala’s music is expectedly a dream given sonic form. Perhaps that’s why much of the UK singer, songwriter, and multi-instrumentalist’s music is able to so deftly weave imagery of love, heartache, and teenage fistfights into tightknit tracks that feel simultaneously transcendental and deeply personal. And with the release of her 2020 EP, Girl Eats the Sun, Hope Tala poses one all-important question, “Why have a life if you’re not going to do something crazy and make a difference in the world?” 
chloe moriondo
youtube
For much of chloe moriondo’s avid fanbase, watching her transform from budding ukulele sensation to pop-punk phenom very much meant watching her grow up. Getting her start on YouTube, moriondo's fanbase witnessed her evolve as both an artist and person. Coming out in the aptly titled “a ramble about self identity, growth, and being a lesbian,” to be a fan of the artist often feels like trading secrets with a close personal friend. It is a sentiment that rings all the more true upon delving into her debut album, Blood Bunny. Grappling with coming-of-age at the axis of empathic pop and euphoric pop-punk, Blood Bunny sees moriondo taking yet another impressive step forward.
Godford
youtube
Little is known about Godford beyond what can be garnered from a handful of interviews online and his succinct Spotify bio, and chances are he’s happier that way. The anonymous DJ and producer aims to make non-binary music that exists outside of the confines of genres, overly-simplified classifications, and even himself. What is important are the emotions his music hold and what his listeners take away. Fusing romanticism and rave in his debut album, Godford: Non Binary Place, the anonymous artist does just that. He provides a space that exists simultaneously everywhere and nowhere, like an ephemeral night spent out on the dancefloor with a stranger or close friend.
Joy Oladokun
youtube
Joy Oladokun is at the core of her music. It may at first glance appear to be a painfully obvious statement, but as her sincere songwriting seeps into every corner of your soul, it is a notion that becomes undeniable. In her major label debut, in defense of my own happiness, Oladokun writes with an unabashed authenticity, never turning a blind eye to the world around her. These shared reflections and recollections of life are often heartbreaking and uplifting in the same breath, but in their candidness, we can begin to piece together what it means to be human, imperfections and all.  
Allison Ponthier
youtube
Allison Ponthier may only have a handful of singles to her name, but her unmatched potential is clear as day. Raised in the outskirts of Dallas, Texas, Ponthier’s moving songwriting and emphatic vocal prowess speak to her country roots. Pair that country sensibility with some of the most pristine pop songwriting we have heard in quite some time, and you begin to understand just how exciting Ponthier is as a rising artist. With only two singles to date, there’s not much else we can say beyond do yourself a favor and play “Cowboy” on repeat.
Rina Sawayama
youtube
It feels like no hyperbole to call Rina Sawayama an inevitable pop icon. First garnering critical acclaim with singles like “Cherry” and her 2017 debut EP RINA, the Japanese-British singer-songwriter staked her name on her immaculate ability to capture all the glamour and larger-than-life appeal of early ‘00s pop. Building on what was a nostalgic yet forward-thinking vision, Sawayama returned with her 2020 eponymous full-length debut. From nu-metal, club beats, to veritable pop anthems, SAWAYAMA emerged as a genre-defying showcase of an avant-garde pop star.
Arlo Parks
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Listening to Arlo Parks’ music is akin to sipping on a hot cup of chamomile tea as you watch the world slowly pass by your living room window. It is a testament to the British poet and singer-songwriter’s subtle yet beautiful way with words, the way in which each lyric serves as a glance into a tightly-held memory or passing observation. These poetic musings come to life in her debut album, Collapsed In Sunbeams, which layers lyrical revelations over some of the most tender R&B of recent memory. Parks’ is more than a must-listen; she feels like the birth of a new wave.
Claud
youtube
Claud has spent the past few years making a name for themselves in the indie pop world, and the culmination of it all arrives in their debut album, Super Monster. The acclaimed album sees Claud reckoning with coming-of-age and love with an irresistible charm. Pair that with a penchant for grounded, affective songwriting and infectious, dreamlike melodies and you have one of the best debuts of recent memory. In case you somehow need any further convincing that Claud is one to watch, Super Monster marks the debut release from Phoebe Bridgers’ Saddest Factory Records.
UMI
youtube
Equally as inspired by R&B and neo-soul as she is by her generation’s penchant for blurring genre lines, UMI and her music exist as a form of spiritual healing. Half-Black and half-Japanese, her work explores everything from identity to self-introspection, such as on the aptly-titled Introspection. It is a fondness for self-exploration that UMI delves headfirst into on her 2019 EP Love Language, a sublime blend of identity struggles, love, and anime that tackles the issue of always feeling like an other, never Black or Japanese enough.
Joesef
youtube
Sad boy summer. It’s the simplest way to being explaining Joesef’s serene albeit somber sound. Emerging out of Glasgow, the quickly rising star often wears his still bleeding heart on his sleeve, even when the underlying sonics seem to be moving onto greener pastures. It is an exquisite balancing act that comes to life on his 2020 EP, Does It Make You Feel Good?. Blending elements of soft-spoken R&B, jazz, and ethereal pop, Joesef sets himself apart as an artist whose influences and appeal know no bounds.
Serena Isioma
youtube
At the top of the year, we named Serena Isioma one of our top artists to watch in the year to come, and for good reason. The self-proclaimed “nonbinary rock star” experienced a breakout moment with “Sensitive,” a track that is difficult to perfectly encapsulate but think along the lines of fusing modern-day R&B and woozy indie-pop with reckless abandon, and you’ll be about halfway there. It was an impressive standout track that was only buoyed by a pair of EPs, Sensitive and The Leo Sun Sets, in 2020, officially cementing Isioma as an artist like no other.
Khai Dreams
youtube
Khai Dreams’ music is effortlessly easygoing. With its straightforward guitar lines and understated production, every track from the Pacific Northwest singer-songwriter flows out as naturally as breathing. Maybe it’s that laid-back approach that begins to explains Khai Dreams’ universal appeal and millions of monthly listeners, despite releasing most of his music independently. A hallmark of the DIY generation and its massive homebrewed potential, it would be a crying shame if you didn’t let Khai Dream’s serene meditations transport you somewhere far from here.
Frances Forever
youtube
Like much of their Gen Z cohorts, Frances Forever’s exponential rise was not the result of a well-executed marketing plan but by the pure chance of a single song finding a home online. The song in question, “Space Girl,” was originally part of NPR’s Tiny Desk Content before soon blowing up on TikTok, and it’s not hard to see why. Short, sweet, and to the point, “Space Girl” is a saccharine love letter to that bubbly feeling of floating on cloud nine. Now signed to Mom+Pop and with their debut EP, Paranoia Party, due out later this year, this is the perfect time to get familiar with Frances Forever.
Dorian Electra
youtube
Unapologetically playing with gender norms and stereotypes while seeing just how far they can push the limits of pop, Dorian Electra has long maintained a cult following in the world of experimental, highly addictive hyperpop. And it’s not hard to see why. Having collaborated with the likes of Charli XCX, 100 gecs, Village People, Pussy Riot, Rebecca Black, and more, Electra’s music ranges from off-the-rails hyperpop to introspective pop slow burns. All of this and more reaches a fever pitch in their 2020 album My Agenda, a devious showcasing of one of pop’s most explosive figures.
MAY-A
youtube
Maya Cumming, professionally known as MAY-A, is no stranger to the hustle it takes to make it in the music industry. The Australian artist got her start entering numerous singing competitions in her hometown of Byron Bay and started busking on the streets at the tender age of 11. Now, she has a breakout single under her belt in the form of “Apricots,” an anthemic indie-pop ode to queer love. And since that breakout moment, MAY-A has continued to release impressive single after single—the latest being the collaborative “American Dream.”
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yostresswritinggirl · 3 years
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Abandoned By The Altar
Part 1; When you were young.
A timeline oriented story focused on your once perfect childhood relationship as Diluc's bride to be, soon becoming estranged after the death of his father and his neglect. You only wish now that he looks at you the same way he did when you heard you were supposed to be together forever when you were young.
Pairings -> Diluc x Reader (Currently both young)
Word Count -> 3611
Themes -> Initial Fluff, don't be fooled by the title and summary, not yet at least lol-
Series -> #Bonafide Specials (100 followers event) Part 2
Warnings -> None, tooth-rotting adorkable fluff, this is part 1
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The redness of his hair poked out like the moon in a blanketed, dark sky at the dead hours of the sky. His glaring flame of a hair starking in contrast against the sea of cecilias.
There were three knocks to the Winery that day and his father, renowned businessman, had greeted a new set of faces to their humble abode.
Diluc was but a mere child who had lived for eight years and he had exercised his mind to remember the people that had come and go. They were always regal in aura, high in stature, brimming with promises of riches. This occasion had the same weight, but with a lesser intensity with the politeness the merchant family carried.
As usual, business matter were talked about by the adults and Diluc, the young had no means to pry.
So when he finally stared at you, he was pleasantly surprised. Visitors were usually taller, more mature, and came there to talk about adult stuff... never had he met a child the same as he come with those that come talk about finances.
You slightly flinched back when your stares connected, from what he did not know why, but you carry the same shock and intrigue he felt. "H-Hello there!" Crepus ghosted a look at the two children with a wistful and amused look, softening at the sight. His sole child had always been demure and the distance from Mondstadt had kept him away from opportunities of friendship, so when your parents revealed you as their tag-along to their business proposal, he thought it was too good a coincidence to pass. He, however, didn't expect Diluc to be the first to talk.
"Hi, hi!" You bounded up to him as if barreling, your initial nerves dominated by childlike wonder as your eyes darted over him, so fast even that he doesn't know where they had already gone. "Your- your hair, eyes! So pretty!" You placed your hands on his shoulders enthusiastically, missing a distant horrified gasp and a slight shush. "Like, like... fire tornadoes!"
"Fire tornadoes...?" Diluc asked warily and you vigorously explained how the wildness of his hair carried the chaos of tornadoes that had caught a raging flame in its razor winds.
You had always been an eccentric child, your mother reasoned with the older Ragnvindr but earned a hearty chuckle. No harm done, he assured as he can't seem to take his eyes off the two of you, even tho his business was right in front of him.
After proper introductions between the two children, and a promise of a longer talk, your supposed quick visit somehow made its way to dinner.
The many servants of the Winery had caught wind of the sudden changes in the itinerary and they were quick to adapt on the preparations of dinner. In the backdoors of kitchens and maid halls there were surprising chatter that accompanied them as they work. "Young Master Diluc and the merchant's little girl seems to be getting along quite well," the nanny and the other maids started the gossip with fervor at the intriguing news. "It's greatly the reason why Master Crepus had entertained them this long, the gardener caught wind of how amused he is just watching the two interact." When the banquet table was completed before the diners had arrived, a lot of the servants hid behind the cracks of the doors to watch the spectacle for themselves, to guarantee if the rumor that spread like wildfire was true and not some hallucination.
There was a quiet series of gasps and 'aw's when the main door opened to reveal the owners of the house and its current honored guests. The towering adults parted to display you clutching to Diluc's sleeve as he guided you to extra long table, a display that you seem to not be used to based on their observations as you felt lost on which large seat to take.
And the young master thought of this as the perfect opportunity to show off the things he had learned in his sessions of proper etiquette. Locating the nearest seat, Diluc pulled the chair out and gestured you to take a seat before gently pushing it back under the table. Satisfied with the distance, he made his way opposite of you as a sign of respect for his guest.
Crepus, your mother and father watched in amusement... as you two took your seats at the other end of the table farthest from them. But they paid no mind to call you two over when they saw how engrossed you are over your own conversation.
The chatter that night was boisterous and lively on all parties, for besides business and wine, all had talked with the atmosphere of good friends.
And dinner turned into a promise of a sleepover, how generous of the Ragnvindr family. The master of the house simply reasoned that Mondstadt was still a distance from the Winery, and it was too dangerous to travel at this time of night. But the servants knew more than they had let on, for they too felt the somberness in the eyes of Diluc when your parents announced your need to departure.
At this point, this whole visit was now held up by the fact that it was their young master's opportune time for a play date.
The whole day you two had been inseparable. Either being connected physically or just naturally stuck to each other's side through and through. Despite his innate nature to be a recluse or lack of communication among his age group, Diluc find himself not at all minding the way you stuck close to him like this.
When everyone else had departed, you and Diluc were still wide awake in the parlor in front of the blazing fireplace, your hands buried in his wild hair as you talked about your travels before coming to Mond. The young man hums as replies with his eyes closed, concentrated on the way you weave your hands through his fiery locks as you made tiny braids here and there.
Once Crepus had finished tonight's negotiation and seek out his own child (of which was missing from his room) he happened upon the two of you coddled up between a fort of pillows and blankets. The fireplace long been extinguished as the children slumbered.
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You were noble not by blood, but by high commerce. Your parents had been travelling all over the continent to procure business opportunities and partnerships, and their duo of both financial prowess and economic behavior mastery had earned them a place in high society and funding. Noble merchants who had found themselves in the city of freedom with their sole child in tow.
The true goal was to establish at least one commerce ports and business services in EVERY nation in Teyvat, and that requires a lot of scouting and connections to do so.
Because of the constant move, you had seen A LOT and met quite a thousand of people in every walks of life. At your young age you barely remember them all truly but the loneliness within you was not something that can easily be quenched, as travelling meant leaving everyone behind for an indefinite time.
Diluc was a one of a kind boy, most probably because you had yet to step foot in the land of the Pyro Archon, but his red hair intrigued you to wit's end. It was reminiscent of a campfire that protects you from the cold of the night, the last hues of sunset in the horizon over the cliffs of your expedition, the sweet taste of fresh strawberries hand picked from the Inazuman plantations.
So at the news of settling down for a few years in Mondstadt reached your ears, unadulterated tears of pure happiness flowed out of your eyes so shockingly that you didn't even notice them immediately.
Not until you felt small hands cup your cheeks, its thumbs fervently swiping at the wetness. Your wide eyes met Diluc's worried ones and he asked if you're alright with a gentleness you've never heard from him. You grinned, "We can play again tomorrow, Diluc!"
And the three adults in the distance sighed in great relief as your mood lifted.
You cupped back Diluc's cheeks to reciprocate and gasped in overdramatic wonder at how soft and squishy they were, squealing, and then tackling him back into the soft beds of Cecilias.
"They've really become quite close ever since we touched Mondstadt," Crepus smiled behind his cup of tea and reveling himself with the warmth it brought to his throat.
"Honestly, our daughter needs to learn manners after him. She's always been so rowdy, I was scared the young master would have run away from her brashness," your mother quipped in before picking up her own cup to savor.
Crepus shared a glance with your father as they both found their gaze back to the both of you. "Practically inseparable," they hum, "I'd say we might as well seal them together to make sure our bloodlines prosper."
Your mother choked. "Are you implying- Diluc and (Y/N)?!" At the mention of your names, you and your companion turned your heads to the adults. "An arranged marriage? At such an early age too!"
"What's an arranged marriage?" The children spat out at the same time, informing the older people of the audience they had brought upon themselves. Crepus smiles warmly at the sight of your tiny arms wrapped around Diluc's shoulder as the redhead holds a Cecilia in place by your ear.
"It's a serious promise," the Ragnvindr started, "it makes sure that both of the people stays together forever their whole lives. After a grand ceremony." Diluc knew when his father talked about serious business and that's when he usually pays attention to his words, even if majority of the time it's something he barely understands.
But the thought of being able to be with each other together forever, the young boy slowly turned his head to face you, which urged you to look at him too. There was the same color of his hair splattered at his cheeks, but his gaze on you was wide and wondrous, as if asking a silent question, "I would love to be with Diluc forever! How about you, Diluc? Do you, do you?"
"I-I do! Yes!" The young redhead tried to match your enthusiasm as the older men chuckled, your mother silently dying at the predicament.
"Then that settles it!" Crepus mused, "Even tho I didn't expect my son to be the one getting proposed on."
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April 29th, the day before Diluc's 9th birthday, the first birthday of his that you would be in attendance.
The servants of the house had been busy preparing for the grand event for days now, and tasks were more than piled up on the day before the true date. Hence why you'd find yourself playing with Diluc outside of the mansion without adult supervision. Your parents had helped in organizing the party with Diluc's father, as it also doubles as an opportunistic moment of meeting nobles and honorable businessmen all over Teyvat.
"Are you excited for tomorrow, Dilu? Just imagine the towering cake, so many food, and toys!" You two were passing by the grapevines of the winery, fascinated by the shining grapes under the direct gaze of the sun.
"Mmm, there would be a lot of people tho, lots of talking and talking," you plucked a healthy looking grape from the vine before you finally looked at your companion, finding a cute little pout between his smooth and chubby cheeks. "You know I'm not good around many people."
You cooed at the confession, indulging momentarily by patting his cheek (Diluc raised an eyebrow at your weird obsession over them) before patting his shoulder, "Well, well, as your fi- financee?" Fiancée, he corrected. "Yeah that! I'll be right by your side, if you need help, I'll be right there!"
When you saw him relax under your enthusiastic grin, you patted yourself on the back before expertly throwing the lone grape into your mouth. And crunched.
"Well, I guess you're much better with people- are you okay?"
The sourness. The undeniably waxy peel. Your teeth colliding with the core seed. Diluc watched your face contort from surprise to disgust to pure horror as you frantically whip your head from side to side in search of something, yet finding nothing you slightly bow your head.
"(Y/N), hey, what's wrong-" he reached his hand out and under to cup your jaw and raise your face to meet his, but in a manner of time seemingly slowing down, these events happened: you opened your mouth to discard the disgusting grape to the ground when in some funny coincidence, Diluc's open hand reached out under your chin, the wet and slimey prune of a grape plopping on his palm spot-on with a sound of disgust escaping you.
When you'd open your eyes, you gasped at the sight before you. Whipping your head up, you've seen the most horrified look Diluc had ever worn as he stared straight at his hand, barely moving and breathing.
When one of the maids finally caught sight of the two children, she'd found you crying in distress as you wailed 'I broke Diluc, I broke him!' while the boy himself stood and looked just the same as you'd seen him last, still staring at the disgusting grape in his hand.
The festivities started the next day with you not by his side.
Guests were already swarming in given that the night has started its period. Crepus made sure that all of the preparations are in accordance with the party, yet he knew just how distressed and frantic his son has been acting, no matter how hard he tries to hide it.
He kneels in front of Diluc, finally getting his frenzied stares to settle on him. He offers a reassuring smile. "Are you looking for her?" Diluc was bashful in being caught but nodded regardless, earning a chuckle and a hand ruffling his hair. "Don't worry, she will come."
"But what if she doesn't?" His stubborn nerves replied still with uncertainty.
"You two promised to be together, no grape can easily break that," at the mention of the incident, his son gagged and whined at the reminder, causing another robust chuckle form in his throat. When Crepus has heard of the 'incident' that transpired yesterday, he had to stop himself from wheezing to comfort his own son.
At the better reminder Diluc found himself smiling again brought upon his faith on you and Crepus sighed in relief. That was when they heard a familiar voice shout from the distance.
Your little form broke through the crowd that had obscured your form, dressed up in a simple red chiffon dress and a massive white bow that holds as a belt. Crepus stepped to the side so you could approach the birthday boy yourself, presenting the red box in your hand with a trembling grip, you stood with nerve-wracking composure they've never seen you don before. "H-Happy birthday, Diluc! I uhm I'm really sorry about what happened yesterday, I really am! So I- so I bought you some gloves, so you'll never have to worry about your hands next time."
Crepus quirked an amused eyebrow at the 'next time' as he watches his son take upon the gift and opening it immediately, inside was a simple pair of white gloves with gold lines across its back and a pop button to keep it in place. When he fitted it, it was just the right size and fit his normal attire perfectly.
You watched him warily when you finally met eyes, opening your mouth to ask if he had liked it— when you were suddenly met by a hug, his fluffed up hair almost covering half of your hair. "Thank you, I like it. But you're late..." you laughed in relief as you squeezed him so tight, saying you were sorry with a giggle.
Diluc's father then watched on with a smile as the two of you held hands, disappearing in the sea of guests to mingle and admire the decorations they had put on for his birthday. At least, this time, he didn't have to worry that his son felt alone.
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Your reckless imprudence and its adverse karma took a lot longer to manifest than anyone had expected. But it came with a paradoxical event both good and evil when you and Diluc were aged 10.
It was a rare occasion that it was Diluc who was visiting you (instead of the other way around) in Mondstadt's walled city. His father had the tavern to tend to that day and had entrusted Diluc's presence to you, the one who had been roaming the city for about two years now.
In your excitement and his cluelessness, you dragged your friend around the city for an impromptu tour guide. The cathedral, the statue, the HQ of Ordo Favonius; you exhausted him all the way as you somehow managed to find your way past the bridge and into the lush greenery of the outside of the walled city. He needed a breather, and you found the fresh air and quiet to be just the perfect spot.
The sound of rushing water in the distance helped as white noise for your relaxation, as you both stared up in the clear sky together, occasionally pointing at objectified clouds. At some point, Diluc had closed his eyes when the faint breeze urged him to rest more and he gave in just as easily.
The sound of your light musings grounded him just the same, together with the flowing stream and the distant pitter patter against the grass... pitter patter?
"DILUC, WATCH OUT-!" A force came bouldering against his side as he cried out in pain and shock, barreling against the grassland as he unceremoniously tumbles with the perpetrator. He snapped his eyes wide open and sat up quickly to look at what had come to your area—
And you laid there next to him, remnants of frost littering your clothes and climbing up your skin. As Diluc gathered you up in his arms, he felt the sting of the cold as he pulled your trembling form against his chest. At his peripheral he distinguished a few cryo slimes a few feet away, where he sees the dent on the grass he once laid on just moments prior.
"(Y/N)- (Y/N)! No, nonono stay with me, you're okay, please tell me you are," his body wracked in suppressed sobs as you desperately clung to his warmth. Your eyes were squeezed shut in pain as your teeth clatter and whimper from frostbite. He squeezed and pulled you closer up to his chest, desperately hoping the ice would melt before it engulfed you whole.
His gloved hands gripped at your back when he locked eyes with the slimes, watching them slowly advance to the both of you and he watched helplessly without any weapon at his arsenal to protect you two.
For the first time in his life, Diluc felt utterly useless and helpless at the face of looming death. And he prayed with eyes shut, to any Gods that spared him an ear, to give them divine intervention to help you two. To pray that there was something he can do, to pray that if only he was stronger—
And his world turned red around him.
Frost melted.
Grass charred.
Slimes dissipated.
In front of him a Vision was born.
...
A year and a half after that ordeal, you find yourself in the dimly lit hallways of Dawn Winery.
Diluc had expressed his intention to join the Knights of Favonius a day after he received his Vision, with a resolve you've never seen him wear before. He looked at you with longing yet courage of another promise, when you came to the same day. Ever since then, your visits became scarce and your play time had lessened, as you were left to watch him train in every hour of his day with either his father or one of the adept guards of the Winery.
You've never thought you'd wish to be able to wield a sword greatly to par that of a knight, if only to be trusted enough to wield the weapon against him in the guise of training. Ever since that incident everyone had treated you with utmost care and gentleness, even your dearest friend who had always gone along with your reckless spurs of action.
Today you were hoping to catch him on a day off from his sessions but it seems awfully quiet this time around and you were left to ponder with your thoughts as no one came to aid you with answers. You would press your ear against the numerous doors, linger to hear anyone, and then moved on to another if you come out empty-handed.
You were on your way to the last door of the hallway when you heard someone clear their throat behind you. You whipped your head in the thought that you had found your person of interest—
"What are you doing here?" But instead of the fiery red you were seeking for, you met a cold blue gaze that carried hidden hostility and confusion. You blinked at him as he did at you, an agonizing second passing with silence, and he opens his mouth once more to ask.
"I like your eyepatch!"
Somehow, you seem to have a knack on making people stutter on your first meetings.
Kaeya was no exception.
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I didn't expect this to end with a cliffhanger holy shit, I loved writing this so much but I got caught up with so many other works and— it just became too long to continue...
Part 2 tomorrow midnight once again!
@creation-magician @boxofteenageideas @your-local-venti-simp @indigodreamtime47
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drwcn · 3 years
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《Without Envy》- concubine/sleeper agent!wwx & prince!lwj 
[story board 1] [story board 2]   [story board 3]  [story board 4] 
long post: story board 5 →
Lan Wangji, as it turned, was a true gentleman. This was problematic for Wei Wuxian, who was tasked with getting close to him, because Hanguang-wang’s upstanding morals being rather unimpeachable rendered Wei Wuxian’s initial seduction efforts entirely unsuccessful. 
 Lan Wangji straight up ignored him. Whenever he came to visit Jiang Yanli it was always to speak with her and not Wei Wuxian. It was like Wei Wuxian, or A-Xian as he was known, did not exist to the prince. Whenever Wei Wuxian tried to “get close” to him, aka, making himself available to serve tea, meals and such, Lan Wangji would always dismiss him, or tell him to wait outside so Lan Wangji and Jiang Yanli could dine together alone. Needless to say, Wei Wuxian was getting increasingly frustrated. Entirely unbeknownst to Wei Wuxian however was the fact that Lan Wangji had noticed him from the start and was just trying to stop himself from doing something inappropriate. Truth is, Lan Wangji first saw Wei Wuxian at Jiang-fu during one of Lan Wangji’s visits to finalize the marriage between himself and Jiang Yanli. 
It was the dogs’ barking that got Lan Wangji’s attention first. That, and a young man’s agitated cursing.
“Fuck - ow! Princess that was not nice! I’m going to turn you into barbeque if you don’t cut this shi - Ow! Jasmine, give it here!” 
Lan Wangji’s personal guards Guo Ai and Sun Ting made to investigate the source of the ruckus and to tell off whoever dared to be so impertinent and disrespectful in a marquis’s manor, but Lan Wangji stopped them with a subtle gesture.  
Slowly, he approached the round archway looking into the garden and saw by the shrubs a handsome young man cradling a fuzzy tiny thing while trying his darnedest to fend off two relentless hounds. “Shoo, shoo, go bother your master!”
But the dogs wanted to play. Their bushy tails wagged happily.  
Eventually, the young man tired of the over enthusiastic canines, picked up a stick off the ground, and tossed it far over the garden walls. The dogs took off running, and he and the little creature he protected were allowed a moment’s peace. 
“Little tutu, it’s okay, the mean dogs are gone now. Don’t be afraid.” 
It was only then that Lan Wangji saw that the furry round thing was a small bunny, probably driven from its burrow by the aforementioned hounds that belonged to Jiang-xiao-gongzi. He watched, slightly transfixed, as the young man lifted the bunny and gently booped its nose against his own, his comely face scrunching up adorably in the process. 
So when Wei Wuxian arrived at the prince’s estate with Jiang Yanli, Lan Wangji cursed his luck. He had no intentions of becoming attracted or attached to anyone in his harem. His marriages were political games. Everything he did in his harem was calculated. The last thing he needed was for the Jins to think they could sink their claws into him. So he kept company with all his concubines equally, just to maintain the balance. Lan Wangji did not want Jin Ziyan to be the only man in his harem, which was why when Qin Su offered him Mo Xuanyu, he did not refuse. It was fortunate that Mo Xuanyu himself seemed eager to serve too, so Lan Wangji did not have to grapple with ethics there.  He was doing this for his country; everyone knew this. As long as he kept to his duties and divided his attentions equally, there would be trouble in his harem. Except...Lan Wangji wanted to see ‘A-Xian’ again. The more he wanted, the more he made himself keep his distance. He recognized the power dynamic that existed between this servant and himself, and that if he were to ask, A-xian was not really in a position to refuse. Besides, Jiang Yanli made no indications that she wanted her A-Xian to serve Lan Wangji. In fact, she seemed quite protective of him, always looking out for him wherever she could. She practically treated him like a little brother than a servant. As such, Lan Wangji was happy with the way things were. He could live with never knowing A-Xian more intimately. In fact, he did not want A-Xian to be ordered to serve him, or find out that A-Xian was just like every other man and woman in his harem, there to curry favours with him. It would be a shame if he turned out to be just another flower in the garden, another player in this game they played.  
Of course Wei Wuxian read this whole situation as: that little bastard Lan Wangji doesn’t like me. Xue Yang was charged with being Wei Wuxian’s correspondence between Gusu and Qishan but ended up just being the guy Wei Wuxian complained to.  —“Is this Hanguang-wang truly a paragon of virtues???” Wei Wuxian raged. “Aren’t princes supposed to be lechers? Wen Chao certainly is a sleeze. Wen Xu could be too for all we know. I’m young, fit, attractive and available. I know he likes men so why not me? He sleeps with Mo Xuanyu all the time apparently …Is Mo Xuanyu more attractive than me?!” Xue Yang: >_> God I miss murders. 
Wei Wuxian’s “opportunity” came when Jiang Yanli fell mysteriously ill about three months after she married Lan Wangji. When the physicians were left scratching their heads, Wei Wuxian quickly took the matter into his own hands. He needed Jiang Yanli alive; if she died before he made an impression on Lan Wangji, he could be sent away back to Jiang-fu and threaten his entire operation. What’s more, Jiang Yanli had been extremely kind to him in the last two years since he arrived at Gusu. She truly was the perfect lady; he would hate to see her suffer.  Through some crafty investigations, Wei Wuxian discovered that the cause of Jiang Yanli’s illness was a slow poison being laced into her food by Jin Ziyan’s orders. The motive of his actions were obvious enough; ever since Jiang Yanli married in, Lan Wangji seemed to be showing her extra favour, favours which he never distributed unevenly prior to her entering his household. Jin Ziyan did not want Jiang Yanli as a competition. She was a marquess’s dichu daughter, much higher in rank than either Qin Su or Luo Qingyang, and therefore posed serious threat to becoming Lan Wangji’s legal spouse. In a way, she was Jin Ziyan’s biggest competitor, and he couldn’t have that. What Jin Ziyan didn’t know was that Lan Wangji visited Jiang Yanli so much because he wanted to catch glimpses of Wei Wuxian, even though he dismissed Wei Wuxian from the room every time he saw him (the man was clearly a masochist). Wei Wuxian managed to sniff out the poison before it could cause lasting damages, but the effect of it was going on for long enough that Jiang Yanli still had an early term miscarriage before she even knew she was pregnant. Wei Wuxian, incensed by Jiang Yanli’s suffering, was ready to expose Jin Ziyan, but was ordered not to by Wen Zhuliu. ‘We still need Jin Ziyan’ was his reasoning. Still, Wei Wuxian managed to tip off the investigators such that they detected and put an end to the poisoning, but the culprit was ultimately never caught. As this played out, Wei Wuxian realized that now was his chance to get close to Lan Wangji. With Jiang Yanli recuperating...surely the Jiang family would want someone else of their clan to serve Lan Wangji in her place, someone who could keep Lan Wangji’s attention but would not replace Jiang Yanli’s place in the harem. It did not take much to lead Yu Ziyuan to the same conclusion. To ensure that he would have ample time with Lan Wangji, Wei Wuxian secretly slipped a special sedative into Jiang Yanli’s food and drink to mimic the symptoms of a slow recovery. The sedative was one of Qishan’s secret formulations and could not be detected by Gusu’s finest doctors. But Jiang Yanli, bless her heart, did not want the boy who she’d come to see as a little brother to be used like an object. "A-niang, I don't want to force A-Xian to do things he doesn't want to. I will get better, dianxia will not abandon me." — Yu Ziyuan tsked, "Silly girl, serving Lan Wangji in your stead is his entire purpose for coming with you. Every family must plan for something like this; someone to hold onto Lan Wangji's interest while you're indisposed. Men are fickle, child. You need time to recover and someone will need to remind Hanguang-wang that you still matter when you’re ready again. We cannot let him forget you. Think of what this would mean for our clan." Much to Yu Ziyuan’s delight, Lan Wangji came to check on Jiang Yanli while she was visiting, and Madam Yu had no qualms making hints that it would be the Jiang family’s honour if Hanguang-wang allowed ‘A-Xian’ to serve him while Yanli recovered. Wei Wuxian did not protest. Why would he? This was his orchestration after all, but when he dared raise his gaze from the floor to look at Lan Wangji, he detected a hint of something in Lan Wangji’s face…something like disappointment. Wei Wuxian relayed this to Xue Yang and the other evil gremlin sucked on a candied apricot and said with a roll of his eyes: —“You’re so dense, shixiong, tsk. Men like Lan Wangji could have any man or woman he wants. If you go along with Madam Yu’s orders, you’ll just to be like everyone else, another ambitious servant trying to socially advance. He’ll fuck you and forget you within a blink of an eye.” — Wei Wuxian sipped his liquor and grimaced. “Fine, what do you suggest I do then? — Xue Yang smirked, “Oh, haven’t you heard? Men like roses with thorns. When you’re brought to him tonight, don’t play along. Don’t humour him. Refuse him.” — Wei Wuxian: >_> Is this how you got those Daoist priests in bed with you? — Xue Yang smirked shamelessly, “Worked, innit?”
Listen, Lan Wangji was fully prepared to have some emotionless sex with Wei Wuxian okay? Boy was prepared to just go through the motions. He was disappointed to know that A-Xian turned out to be no better than any other servant in his harem: eager to climb his bed.
Being a concubine was stupid work, Wei Wuxian realized belatedly. After dinner, Jiang Yanli bid him goodbye with worried eyes as the momos and gugus of Hanguang-fu dragged him away to be bathed and prepped for the prince’s enjoyment later that night. (gugu, momo - older female servants)
Wei Wuxian was not a dirty person - sure, he worked hard, but he bathed regularly - they did not have to scrub that roughly. As they practically scrapped off a layer of skin, the momos rattled on and on about how he should “conduct” himself in the presence of dianxia and how he should position himself to best please him. 
What the actual fuck. Wei Wuxian resisted the urge to pull a face. Did the ladies get the same banal talk? How fucking boring was the sex around here? Wei Wuxian wasn’t born yesterday alright? He knew how to fuck.  ...Well fine, he didn’t, but he and Xue Yang had sucked each other off once or twice, so that should count for something. 
Once the attendants were satisfied with the state of him - hair brushed, skin cleaned and lotioned, callouses removed - they rolled him in a large full-body sized blanket, placed him in a sedan and ordered the servants to carry him to Lan Wangji’s chamber. 
Wei Wuxian tried not to make an exasperated grimace when the servants literally picked him up like a log and deposited him on the prince’s large bed.
Fucking...seriously? 
He did not remember this bullshit when zhangjie married in...but then again Jiang Yanli did marry in. There was a ceremony and everything. Lan Wangji was very respectful that night, bowing to her before lifting her veil as a gentleman ought to. So what the fuck is this barbaric treatment? Just as he pondered on these questions, the tulle canopy parted, and Lan Wangji’s handsome face and broad chest came into view. Undressed to his inner most layer of robes and his ink black hair let loose, he looked very much like a man ready to ravish his new concubine, but somehow, Wei Wuxian could not detect a trace of interest on that jade-like face. 
Despite knowing this was all an act, just a means to an end, Wei Wuxian shivered when Lan Wangji reached for the edge of the blanket that encased him. 
He pulled the blankets closer, shrinking deeper inside. 
“Don’t be afraid,” said Lan Wangji. “I won’t hurt you.” 
Time to act, Wei Wuxian. Give it your best shot. 
“I’m not afraid.”  “Then why do you hide?”  Wei Wuxian waited a meaningful second before meeting Lan Wangji’s gaze dead on and said, “Because I don’t want to.”  Nonplussed, Lan Wangji raised an elegant eye brow in return. “Oh? Is that so? Or are those just words? Perhaps you've confused what kind of place a harem is. If you do not want to, why are you here?”
Is my act not convincing enough or is this stupid asshole so confident in his attractiveness that he thinks everyone must automatically want to fuck him? Slightly ticked off now, Wei Wuxian sat up, still holding the blanket to his chest and retorted hotly, “I am not confused, dianxia. Perhaps you are unable to comprehend the idea that someone as lowly as a servant would refuse when given the opportunity to ascend in rank, but nevertheless, that doesn’t change my position. I don't want to. I am here because Lianfang-jun appointed me; there was hardly any room in that decision for me to argue. If you are determined to have me, I will not resist, because I understand my place. But I am a person, not a thing or a broodmare for you breed. I have some dignity left, and at the very least, before you...before you hold me down and fuck me, I want you to know."
Wei Wuxian half wondered if his act had gone a little overboard. The expletives maybe were just a tad too dramatic, but then again...   ...seeing how Lan Wangji's entire stance shifted, maybe not. 
Lan Wangji withdrew his hand. He had mistaken Wei Wuxian’s initial unwillingness as coquettish posturing, but the heat in those dark, bright eyes could not be faked. 
“Those words could get you into a lot of trouble when spoken to the wrong person. Have the momos not taught you the rules?” 
Wei Wuxian squared his shoulders. “They have, but I place trust in Hanguang-wang’s reputation, that you are a true gentleman and would not force me against my will.” Then, just as he practiced, Wei Wuxian lowered his eyes. “I am a servant, your servant, and I know it is my duty to serve you in any way you command me, but I -...please find other use of me, dianxia, but not this.” 
 He startled a little when a warm hand found purchase under his chin and lifted up his face. Lan Wangji inspected him wordlessly with those cold, sharp eyes, searching for lies, for pretense. Wei Wuxian held his breath, praying he won’t be found out, but eventually, when the prince and his calculation deemed him good enough, he let go. 
“Very well.” 
Lan Wangji fetched a pair of clean inner robes and trousers from the wardrobe and handed them to Wei Wuxian. “Get dressed and move over.” Without waiting for Wei Wuxian to respond, he sat himself down on the edge of the bed and began to remove his socks and shoes. 
Wei Wuxian moved quickly, shrugging on the robes and tied it in place before shoving the trousers under the covers to try and pulling them up his legs. “You’re...you’re not leaving?” 
Lan Wangji glared at him over his shoulder. “This is my room, my bed. Why should I leave?” 
Right. Right.
“But you’re not...sending me away?” 
Lan Wangji frowned as though questioning his intelligence. “Would you like me to send you away? I should think that would reflect badly on you and your mistress.”   That did give Wei Wuxian pause. “Uh, well –”   “Your declining to be my bedfellow does not impede my fulfilling my side of the arrangement. You will leave in the morning, and the others will think that I found you pleasing enough to keep you the whole night. That should give Jiang-fu’ren and the Yunmeng Jiang clan sufficient face."   “I could sleep on the floor.” 
“Do you want to sleep on the floor?” Lan Wangji swung his legs onto the bed and arranged the blankets to his liking. “The doors are never locked. Servants and sentinels must be allowed in to check on me during the night for security purposes. It would not bode well if they found you lying on the floor.” 
Right, yeah that would defeat the whole purpose. 
“Oh.” 
Lan Wangji lay down and crossed his hands over his chest. “Lie down, sleep. I have morning court assembly, and I’m tired. If you’re going to stay, don’t be a disturbance.” 
Feeling like he’d lost all semblance of control in this situation, Wei Wuxian awkwardly laid himself down beside Lan Wangji. The bed was big enough for the two of them that there was space in between even when both of them lay flat on their backs. 
Lan Wangji lifted up just a second to blow out the bedside candle, and then there was total darkness.
Wasn’t I suppose to seduce him? What the fuck is this? Okay...maybe I have no idea how to seduce him...maybe I have no idea how to do anything that’s not straight up strangling him in his sleep. 
Wei Wuxian could feel his heart thudding in his chest, panic coiling tighter and tighter. He almost wished Lan Wangji had ignored his protest and took him, because then it’d be straight forward. As it were, he had no idea how to proceed now. 
Just as Wei Wuxian was being slowly consumed by his maelstrom of thoughts, Lan Wangi suddenly spoke into the dark. 
"I am not a heartless bastard, you should know."
Huh? 
"I never implied that."
“You did.” Lan Wangji gave a little shake of his head. “I do not want this anymore than the others in the harem. You said I treat my women like broodmares, but perhaps you have not considered that Gusu treats me like a stallion."   Wei Wuxian was momentarily speechless.    “Your mistress is very kind and gentle. I am sorry that the child in her belly was lost; I know she very much wanted to be a mother. I see that you are very protective of her, so you should know, I would never hurt her.  Even if she were to never recover her strength, I would not let harm come to her.”   Those words, softly spoken, tugged at Wei Wuxian’s conscience, if not his heartstrings. “Dianxia -”   “Sleep. Good night.”
The next morning Wei Wuxian woke up to knocking on the door. The sun was already high in the sky and the bed was empty of Lan Wangji’s presence.  A group of maids entered carrying a basin of water, towels and clean clothes. Wei Wuxian, dazed, asked, "Where's danxia?" One of the maid giggled. "Dianxia left at dawn to attend morning assembly at the palace. You must not know; he wakes up very early. He said not to wake you, and to let you sleep. He said," The others giggled with her. “He said that you've had a long night."
To the great surprise of everyone, Lan Wangji did not elevate Jiang Yanli’s servant A-Xian to concubine status after the ‘long night’ they had together. Instead he ordered A-Xian to be transferred to his court to be his close-quarter attendant, to serve him in his every day tasks.  Wei Wuxian did not exactly understand why Lan Wangji would make this particularly decision, but he did not complain. After all this was exactly what he wanted, to be close to Lan Wangji and earn his trust.  Lan Wangji, on the other hand, was content to have Wei Wuxian close by, secure in the knowledge ‘A-Xian’ did not wish to spread his legs to socially advance. Perhaps, if he dared to hope, he could finally have someone to speak to in this lonely manor full of people who only saw the crown hanging above his head.
Xue Yang was of the opinion that this was all going to end badly. He was right. 
[next]
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Whatever It Takes
based on the Chaos Emerald Filmverse Theory and Potential Roster
pink | gold | purple | red | silver | blue | ao3
When the emeralds were first split, only one was left on Mobius. They all would eventually find their way back, of course, because the emeralds always found their way to each other. But when the separation began, there were six planets chosen for the six remaining emeralds. The Morganite went to the Voxai, the Heliodor to the Kitsune, the Johnkoivulaite to the Sol planet, the Goshenite to Cascade, and the Maxixe to the Zoah. Then the last one, the Aquamarine, stayed home. They didn’t tell anyone that, of course. Claimed they’d all been split. It would be stupid to leave one where anyone could find it, right? So nobody looked there, in the most obvious place. All they had to do was move its position out of sight, and it was out of the minds of anyone on the planet. It must be somewhere else in the universe, of course. Of course it would be, why would it still be here?
The Shrine of Chaos used to hold all of the emeralds, but after the split, the shrine was left abandoned. Or, well, almost abandoned. Each shrine to Chaos became a chao garden whether that was planned or not, so as the years went on, and the shrine was forgotten, it became known as a simple safe haven for the chao. A little hidden garden behind a waterfall, in a lush green valley, with  clean rivers and blossoming flowers. Nobody quite remembered that it had used to house the emeralds– a few scholars, sure, but most people just vaguely knew they had once belonged to one of the chao gardens, though there were so many scattered across the planet it was hard to keep track. Everyone mainly assumed they’d been kept with the Master Emerald, mainly the echidnas who still thought they should hold the powers of chaos themselves. But the powers of chaos, by their very definition, were not meant to be contained.
But the little teal emerald, the aquamarine of unimaginable power, that stayed in the garden. There was an elaborate series of tunnels in the mountains beside, one that had been constructed centuries ago. And only one person, of each generation, knew how to navigate through. It was a difficult skill, passed down from parent to child in years of intense teaching. The lessons included more, of course– caring for the chao, caring for the emerald... and protecting both if the need should arise. They all knew the dangers that came with housing something so powerful, and so they would have to be prepared for anything.
The guardians lived just on the edge of the garden with their family, and even then, only a few of that family would know of the garden’s true purpose. It was just safer that way, they wanted news to spread as slowly as possible. (Not at all would be most preferred, of course.) And the next guardian would be selected by the chao themselves, those who were the closest living creatures to that chaos energy, who had once known the god Chaos themself. 
The last guardian was selected when she was eight years old. She had no idea she was the last, or what that would mean for her family or future. At the time, she just knew that she went into the garden with her father, who began to clear the trees, and suddenly she was surrounded by the chao. It was strange, she had been there so many times, helping her parents and playing with the creatures inside. But now, it seemed as if she’d become a chao magnet. They were pulling on her legs, swinging on her outstretched limbs, hugging her chest... she couldn’t say she didn’t like it, of course, they were very soft and gentle and it just felt like she was being covered by fluff that was ever-so-slightly ticklish, and had begun to sing their cute little songs. So she laughed, not realizing that the whole colony had gathered around her, harmonizing in a song she had not heard before. She didn’t notice her father lowering himself from the trees, staring in wonder.
To her father, she was the child he’d perhaps expected to be chosen the least. She was more like her grandparents, or her aunt and uncle; she preferred to spend her time in the house, cooking or cleaning, or going out to the back to assist with the farming. She wasn’t a leader, nor did she want to be; she was content to just help whoever she could, do what she could from the sidelines. Her brothers were more adventurous, her cousins more daring. But when he thought about it much later, he realized it did make sense. She was the one who cared the most about their home, about the chao, about keeping their world a peaceful, safe place. Her brothers and cousins weren’t ill-intentioned, not at all, but they had their own ambitions, desires for adventure and a life of excitement. While that would make them good in fighting enemies, it wouldn’t make them good at living forever on the farm, keeping their importance secret and spending most of their time patiently learning the tunnels, keeping the garden running, or keeping the chao happy. Nothing really came after the emerald anyway, so they would be ill-suited to this job. Really, this little girl, one who wanted nothing more than to help, didn’t even care for the credit so long as some good was completed, was the perfect choice.
And so, at the age of eight, Vanilla the Rabbit became the last guardian of the last Chaos Emerald.
---
They told her that very night. Her father returned home with her, letting her run off to tell her brothers and cousins all about how sweet the chao had been that day, and he quietly pulled her mother aside and whispered that they’d chosen her. So after dinner, they asked to speak to her privately, and went up to their room, closed the door, and explained.
They weren’t just guardians of the chao garden, they informed her, but of the teal Chaos Emerald, which hadn’t left their planet after all. It was hidden in the caves, with only her father knowing the way, but the chao had chosen her as the next guardian. He would teach her how to care for the gardens, how to defend them, and how to find her way to the emerald if the situation called for it. It was an important job, but one they had to keep quiet for everyone’s safety. Before today, only he and her mother had known.
She was quiet throughout the talk, but then again she always was. When her parents had finished, she simply asked if they really thought she could do it.
“Of course,” her father had said, putting his hand on her shoulder. “The chao wouldn’t be wrong. They see our souls, you know. And if they’ve chosen you, they’ve chosen right.”
She smiled, then, her eyes lighting up with joy. She sat up a bit straighter, and then nodded.
“Whatever I can do.” she said. “Whatever it takes.”
---
It was hard to keep secrets from her family. She lived in a huge household, after all. Though their home was small, they seemed to somehow have enough room for everyone, and though it meant it was often a little loud and a little busy, none of them minded much. It just made them feel closer together. There was Vanilla and her brothers– one older, who was always playing pirate in the backyard with sticks for swords, and one younger, who liked to scamper up the walls and leap back off, who was always playing pranks on anyone nearby. Her father had a sister, who lived there with her husband and their four children, and her sister’s husband’s parents and sister, the latter of whom had her own daughter who was much older than the rest of them and liked to remind them of that. Vanilla shared a room with all of the children, and while sometimes the others would complain that they wanted their own rooms like their friends in the village, she never found it stifling. So long as her brothers didn’t steal the books on her dresser, and her cousins didn’t spill food on her bedsheets, and nobody messed up the toys she kept on her shelf, she didn’t mind sharing. She liked having people there when she awoke, and she couldn’t think of what she would do with a big room of her own anyway. What would she put in there? Maybe more books. Maybe she could move her knitting materials there instead of the living room... but she liked having it by the fireplace. So, no, she was happy where she was. It did mean, though, that when she came home from the gardens, and they piled on her to ask what she’d done that day, she had to come up with some convincing tale.
“Oh, you know,” she’d usually shrug, as her younger brother clung to her arm, “We pruned the trees– the harvest’s coming in soon. Then we checked over the flowers and the water– still clean– and made sure the chao were eating alright. One of them nearly flew into my face on accident, it was kinda funny.”
“Do you have bruises here?” the oldest would ask, holding up her arm.
“Hit the side of the mountain on the way there.”
She hadn’t; it had been an accident during her training. Her father had felt awful about it, but she told him over and over that it was alright, it didn’t even hurt and she didn’t notice until he pointed it out. It had been sword training that day; they worked with a variety of weapons, as many as they could find, to be ready for anyone who could show up. Blasters? They had that covered. Spears? Arrows? That they could handle. She had to be prepared for a duel, though, just in case, and swordfighting always seemed to be her weakness. She’d trip over herself, and swing too slow or too weakly.
“I don’t want to hurt anyone.” she said, sitting on a rock by the river during a break.
“I know you don’t. But you should be ready to do whatever it takes.”
“Maybe I could talk them down.”
“Maybe you could. But remember–”
“Whatever it takes. Yeah.”
She fell silent, and he wrapped his arm around her. “I’m sorry this burden has come to you.”
“Don’t be. It’s important.”
“It can be important and scary at the same time.“
Vanilla bit her lip. “That’s true.”
“We... we would have waited until you were older, I wasn’t chosen until I was your brother’s age, but... we never know how much time we have. My Zari died before I could finish memorizing the tunnels.”
“Really?”
He nodded. “I was terrified. I’d tie a rope to a tree, and the other end to my waist, and then walk inside, knowing that if i lost my way, i could follow the rope. And one night, the rope broke.”
“What?”
“I don’t know when it did. But I turned around, and suddenly there was a frayed rope dragging just a little behind me.”
“That must’ve been really scary.” 
“It was! Especially because nobody knew I was there. But you know what happened?”
“What?”
“I found my way out.” he smiled softly. “And I realized I hadn’t needed the rope for a very long time. No matter what happens, I know you’ll find your way. But I just want to make it as easy for you as we can. I want you to know that no matter what, I am proud of you.” He paused, and then let out a laugh. “And so are the chao.”
Vanilla blinked in confusion, and then he gestured to her left. She turned, seeing that three chao had clambered up beside her. One moved, then, snuggling under her arm, and another flopped atop her skirt. She giggled, reaching out to pet them and letting the sun shine down on her.
---
It took a lot of time, a lot of training, but thankfully everything but the fighting was something she enjoyed. She liked reading and learning, she liked gardening and farming, and of course she liked the chao. What was difficult, though, were the tunnels.
Her father had drawn her a map, and had her memorize the route from there. Then, he would tell her to draw it “from the left” or “upside-down.” She had to know where she would be at any point, had to remember both where the emerald was and where the exit was. When she started getting the hang of that, he would begin with “You’re in the fourth tunell up, third to the right, and you’re facing straight ahead. Which fork do you use to get to the emerald?” She knew those were important things to know, incredibly important, possibly the most important thing she would do (as nobody had come to steal the emerald for years, so she probably wouldn’t even have to fight), but wow it was hard.
She was about eleven or twelve when she finally got them down to the exacts. Though she hadn’t yet been taken to the tunnels, she felt like she knew them better than she knew the nearby village. Better than the back of her hand. If she was alone in a room with her mother or father, they’d turn and call out a tunnel and a destination, and she’d think for only a second, clenching her fist to help her thoughts, before spouting out the her directions. (If her mother asked, she’d write down what Vanilla had said and run it by their father to make sure she’d been right.) Once, they’d accidentally done it in front of a younger cousin, and they’d had to make up a story behind this “weird inside joke” to cover it up as quickly as they could.
So, after ensuring she knew what she was doing, her father told her it was time to see the emerald for the first time.
She was nervous, of course, but he held her hand the whole way to the chao garden. Then he pushed aside some ivy, showing her the tunnel entrance.
“Now,” he said, “You lead the way.”
She took his hand again, and stepped into the cavern. It was different, being inside, even more different than she’d expected for the last few years. It was cold, and the walls were either made of loose stone or very thick dirt, she couldn’t quite tell. But that had been what those random tests were for– to soothe out the nerves. Keep her straight. And, well, if they got lost, Father would get her out. And if she was separated from him... she’d find her way.
But she found her way right then, and her father stopped her as she turned towards a bend by moving his hand to her shoulder. She flinched and looked back, still adjusting her eyes to the darkness, and feeling a bit of worry that she’d just got them horribly lost.
“Good job,” he said instead. “It’s right over there.”
Her breath caught in her throat. She wasn’t sure whether to smile or cry.
“Go on when you’re ready.”
She hesitated, meeting his eyes as best she could in the darkness. Then she nodded, and stepped away. She clenched her fists to focus, and pulled her ear back, and then turned the bend.
She instantly gasped, stumbling to a stop as her eyes grew wide. Up ahead was a circular room, about as big as the cottage where her family lived. Right in the center, the floor seemed to rise into a pillar, reaching up just a bit higher than the average mobian could reach. And atop the pillar was the Chaos Emerald. It radiated a bright blue, calming energy, and as it ever-so-slowly spun, the light it emitted flickered across the walls, rippling and making it seem as if they had just journeyed into a mystical, underwater grotto. She squinted, and realized it was spinning midair, hovering just a little above the pillar, as if to say “I could rest here, but I’d rather show off.”
Her father came up behind her, and it took her a second to notice. Then, she whispered, “Wow.”
“Yeah. Wow.” he nodded. “Trust me, I had the same reaction.”
Vanilla stared for a little bit longer, just taking in the magical jewel. Then her eyes flickered downwards, and she cocked her head to the side, narrowing her eyes in concentration. At the base of the pillar, she could see a few more sparkling lights.
Her father followed her gaze, then said, “Come, I’ll show you the ritual.”
She walked with him, and they stopped just a few feet from the pillar’s base. He knelt, and made a symbol with his hands, which she copied. Then she glanced back to the base; now that she was closer, she could see three of those lights, spread around the pillar in a circle; with the pattern, she expected that three lights would probably mirror them on the other side. The one closest to her was a flickering blue, though darker than the Aquamarine, and to its right, a shining purple. But the third, the one to the left... well, there was a little circle of red, dipping into the pillar a little, but it didn’t glow like the others.
“These,” her father said, startling her out of her thoughts, “Are the lights of the other emeralds.”
“The lights?”
“They’re far away, but the emeralds will always feel each other.” he said. He reached forwards, pointing to the blue light. “That would be the Maxixe. Do you remember–?”
“Clarity.” she said quickly. “It brings clarity, confidence, and love after it has been lost.”
“Right. And this...” he sighed, and then pointed to the red. “This went out before I was born, when Zari was still training.”
“That would be... bixbite.” Vanilla said, recalling what she’d read. “Courage, strength of purpose, loyalty. And... that was the first one that was lost?”
“Yes. But even then, Zari said, its light shone until one day it... didn’t. We don’t know what happened.”
“Could it have died?”
“If someone found a way to kill a chaos emerald,” he snorted, “Then kudos to them. These things are resilient.” He knelt down, and pointed. “And see that pink light? That was the emerald, but it changed color when I was a child. That makes it a Morganite now, though I’m not sure...”
Vanilla considered the dark red spot for a moment. Then she said, “And we have Aquamarine, up there.”
“Yes. And what is that for?”
“Healing– physical and emotional. Empathy, trust, justice, service, embracing change... and acceptance of the light.”
“Very good.” he then reached over and ruffled the fur atop her head, and she let out a faux-annoyed groan. “My little girl’s so smart, isn’t she?”
“Father.”
“And now, this cave is ours.” he paused. “Well, ours and the chao. They come in and out from time to time.”
“Hmm, do you think they broke your rope?”
“No, I’m pretty sure I just wore it out, but it’s a possibility.” They laughed together for a moment, and then he reached down and touched her cheek, waiting until she turned to face him. “I’m so proud of you, Vanilla.”
“Thank you, father.” she turned, looked up at the light, and then said, “I... think I’m proud of myself, too.”
“You should be.”
---
She was fifteen when she ran into Casein at the market. They knew each other vaguely before– whenever the children of the nearby farmers went into town, clinging to their parents’ skirts or pants and trying to adjust to the sudden noise, they would eventually find each other and play a gam while their parents talked or traded. Casein’s grandfather ran the old mill near the creek, and sometimes when their families were in town at the same time, his grandfather would talk to her father or mother or aunt or whoever was taking them that day, and she and her siblings and cousins would wander off with him to look in store windows or start a game of hopscotch. The other farmer children would join them, and they would play for however long it took adults to stop talking. Which, knowing adults, was a long time. Sometimes they brought up how their farm or mill was going, or talk about the animals they raised, but they usually just fell into the games and forgot about themselves for a while.
Vanilla wasn’t sure when exactly she’d met Casein; he was a year or two behind her, but they’d always vaguely known of each others’ existence due to these run-ins. She knew that he was a lot quieter than her brothers, and preferred books to people, because sometimes during a game he would hide under a bench and read until his grandfather came to pick him up.
She went into the market, though, when all the adults were busy with some problem on the farm. She had been alone there once or twice, but it was still strange, wandering around without anyone else there to guide her. She kept herself focused on the list of what they needed to pick up, so that the jostling crowd didn’t bother her.
She ran into Casein then– literally. She had her eyes glued to the paper, and she ran right into his side. Then they were both on the ground, scrambling to pick up whatever had fallen from her basket.
“Sorry, sorry!” she said. “Ugh, I wasn’t– my fault, I’m sorry–”
She sat up, trying to get everything back into the basket, and Casein said something quietly.
“What?”
“I said it was probably me.”
“No, definitely me. I’m sorry again–”
“It was me. It’s my first time in the market alone, I don’t know what I’m doing.” 
His face flushed and he glanced down, then, a little embarrassed. Vanilla froze a moment, thinking.
“Well, I’ve been alone once or twice. I can show you what to do.”
She wasn’t sure why she suggested it. Maybe it was just her natural inclination to help, but even she knew she wasn’t an expert on the marketplace and he should probably ask someone else. But he nodded, and they helped each other up, and she took his arm and started showing him where to go.
At the end of the trip, he asked if it would be weird if he wrote to her farm. She said she supposed it would be fine, but only if he attached a book recommendation, she’d been running low on good things to read. He said she’d have to send one back, and she said of course, and then he had to rush home to make sure his grandfather was alright. Vanilla nodded and, to her surprise, planted a kiss on his cheek before racing off.
A few days later, her cousin came in with the mail and cooed teasingly that Vanilla had an admirer. Vanilla blushed and hid under the table as she read his letter, while her older brother stomped her cousin’s foot for her.
A week after that, the Maxixe’s light beneath the emerald flickered and died. She asked her father what that meant. He didn’t know. 
“The Bixbite went out,” he said quietly, “Maybe all the lights will go out eventually. It doesn’t mean the emeralds are dying, just that it’s been a while since they’ve seen each other.”
That was an unrealistic hope. One they had to cling to.
---
It was a year after that when her father died.
A sickness spread through the surrounding area. Though they were careful, some of the family caught it– her father and younger brother, her aunt, her aunt’s parents and sister-in-law, and one of Vanilla’s cousins. Her aunt’s parents-in-law died first– they were old, her mother told the weeping children, so the disease hit them hardest. Even after they had buried them, Vanilla held out hope that everyone else would get better. Her brother and cousin recovered first, and soon were helping around the farm with the other children as they tried to do the work of all the bedridden adults. Well... children. Vanilla had always thought of them as the children– the third generation of the household. But most of them weren’t children anymore. Her cousins’ cousin was nearing twenty-three, her brother twenty. Two of her cousins were eighteen, and it wouldn’t be long until all of her family was grown. It was strange to think of them as adults. It was even stranger to wonder how that had happened, how everyone had matured on their own as she helped around the farm or the garden, or trained with Father.
When Father got worse, Mother insisted that everyone who wasn’t sick go to the chao garden until everyone healed. They set up a tent, and Vanilla sat with her younger brother and younger cousins and showed them the stars. She was worried, for most of the trip, that one of her relatives would stumble upon the caves and she’d have to rescue them and explain everything. She didn’t worry about Father. He would get better.
Her aunt got better, but stayed at the farmhouse to take care of Father. She tried to send Vanilla’s mother to the garden, but she’d hear nothing of it.
One night, the chao were singing a song Vanilla hadn’t heard of them before, one that sounded melancholy, depressed... something the chao didn’t normally feel. A few minutes later, her mother came to the garden, the fur under her eyes still damp, and told her children that they would have to come home to say goodbye.
Vanilla was numb as they donned masks to prevent themselves from breathing infected air. She was numb as they said goodbye, staring at her father in a weak state she never would have believed of him. She was numb as her little brother cried into their mother’s dress, and as their aunt told them they had to go, and that no, honey, they couldn’t get closer, this was the safest distance. She was numb still when her aunt took her brothers out of the room, and her mother knelt down and said her father wanted to give her something, and if she was careful, she walk go up to the dresser. Vanilla did, and her father sat up as best he could and passed a thick, leather-bound journal across the table.
“All the guardians have written in this.” her mother explained, because her father was unable to. “It’s your turn now.”
She took it numbly. And she remained numb when she returned to the garden, hiding the journal in her skirt pocket, and when her mother came the next day and said their father had passed in the night. She remained numb during the burial and the disinfection of the house, and when people came to pay their respects and drop off food and ask how she was doing, she had no answer to give them.
She wrote back to Casein, but when her family had cleared themselves as safe from the sickness, she went into town to get food, and she ran into him there.
“I’m safe,” she said through her mask as soon as she saw him.
“I know, you wouldn’t come into town if you weren’t.” he said. They stared at each other for a while.
Carefully, he said, “How do you feel?”
Her eyes hit the ground.
Then, hesitantly, he said, “You don’t feel at all, do you?”
She looked back up.
“I felt the same when my parents died.” he said. “It was so long ago, but I don’t think I’ll forget it. Everyone talked to me like they expected me to be crying. But I didn’t feel anything, and that made me wonder if there was something wrong with me. But... no. A lot of people feel that way.”
He held out a hand, and whispered, “I get it.”
She took his hand, and they went shopping together. 
When she returned home, it was time for her first visit to the garden without him. She’d been avoiding it for weeks, but her mother had gently reminded her that the chao would miss her, and she had work to do. So she put the journal in her pocket and slipped away after a strangely quiet dinner (all of their dinners had been strangely quiet for a long while), and went to the garden.
The chao crowded around her, singing. It was bright, but not too much so. An attempt at comfort. She petted them gently, and quietly moved around the garden, checking everything out. Her mother had taken care of it the past few weeks, and she’d done a good job. Vanilla wondered how her mother could work so hard when her husband had just died. She supposed that staying busy kept her from thinking about it. She did that sometimes, when she was baking, focusing only on the ingredients and mixtures and patterns and not on whatever had happened that day. They must be similar in that way.
When she finished looking over the garden, she stopped at the cave entrance. She knew that if she went in and got lost, none of her family would be able to find her now. But she had to go in, it was part of her job, and so she took a breath and then a step inside. She was surprised that, even in her emotional stupor, she still knew the maze by heart. She didn’t even have to think as she wound around identical corners, her eyes adjusting faster than she would’ve thought possible when she was a child.
She reached the emerald and went to sit underneath it. It seemed to shine a little brighter when she did, as if to say something to her.
She looked down to the base, and felt cold.
The Bixbite had gone dark fifty years before the Maxixe, so her and her father had assumed it must be a fifty-year thing. But as she looked down, she saw that the Goshenite’s light no longer shone.
She stood up and walked, slowly, around, seeing the blank Maxixe and Bixbite beside each other. The Morganite shone. The Heliodor shone. Then she knelt down, staring with wide eyes, as the Johnkoivulaite flickered, like a dying flame. 
“No, no, no, do not...” she whispered, as she knelt beside it, staring, trying to think of what to do. But what could she do?
She stared for several silent minutes, and then the purple light went out and didn’t shine again.
There was a moment where she blinked and rubbed her eyes and tried to see if she had imagined it. Then she checked the Goshenite again. And then back to the Johnkoivulaite. The lights were out.
That was when she finally broke down and sobbed.
She returned home the next morning. Her brothers asked her where she’d been.
“With the chao.” she responded, her voice hoarse, and then she went to work on the farm.
---
Everyone and everything seemed to start slipping away then, somehow far too fast and far too slow all at once.
Her aunt’s sister-in-law passed away quietly from a different sickness, and her daughter married her long-distance partner and moved out to their farm.
Her younger brother and cousin expressed a desire to study at a school several miles away, and their parents gave permission, and then they were gone.
Her oldest cousin got married and left, and then her older brother came home with news of a ship that was hiring sailors. He’d always wanted to travel the sea, ever since they were little children and he would encourage them to play Pirates when they should be weeding. They hugged him and told him to write, and he was gone, too.
Their aunt and uncle announced their intention to move in with their oldest child and help their farm, and they took both their remaining children with them. The next year, one of them also married, and Vanilla and her mother traveled to the ceremony.
Her cousin closest to her in age asked how things were on the farm now. “Quiet,” was all she could say, and it was true. Everyone had gone on with their lives; her little brother was on track to graduate, and then he wanted to teach in the city. Her older brother had sent them a letter a month ago, and gifted them decorated feathers he’d purchased from Soleanna. With the cousins gone, it was just her and mother. They didn’t talk much, not for lack of affection, but just because neither was very good with words. It didn’t matter, they continued to do everything together. They had to care of the farm, which took more work with just the two of them, and they had to shorten the crop so they didn’t overexert themselves. They would bake together, and fall asleep on the couch reading together, and go visit the chao together. The chao, at least, were unchanged.
Vanilla once asked her mother if she’d like to learn the cave layout. To see the emerald. Her mother declined. She was happy where she was, and she trusted Vanilla to be taking care of everything.
Vanilla wasn’t sure she trusted herself.
“The Morganite went out,” she said, when she was eighteen. “The heliodor’s the only one left.”
Her mother simply smiled. “What was it your father said? That if someone knew how to kill an emerald...”
“Kudos to them.” Vanilla laughed. She looked down at the clean, flowing stream beneath them, and asked, “Do you miss having everyone around?”
“A little. But I’ve found you can enjoy silence as much as you enjoy noise, if you just find things to like about it.” her mother sighed, and looked up at the sky. “Without other voices, you can hear the flickies, and the wind, and the leaves. It lets you know that the world is still turning.”
And the world kept turning.
She had been seventeen when she and Casein started courting. A little after that talk with her mother about the silence, she brought him to the chao garden. She didn’t tell him about the cave or the emerald, but as she watched him play with the chao, and begin to weed the garden without even being asked, she knew it would only be a matter of time. When she was nineteen, they sat under the waterfall that bordered the chao garden and the farm, and he asked if she wanted to get married.
She would’ve liked to say she held it together, but when he asked, she immediately squeaked and toppled off into the water. He jumped up, concerned, only for her to throw herself back out of the water, shout “yes” very loudly, and then tackle him in a hug, getting both of them covered in the river water.
Everything was beginning to get bright, then. Her brothers both confirmed they’d be home on time for the planned wedding date. Her cousins were coming, her cousins’ cousin and her new children. The flowers seemed to bloom a little more as she walked past them, the sunlight a bit warmer, the chao singing louder. Even when she went to visit the emerald, it seemed somehow even brighter than it had been when she first saw it, even though five lights beneath it were out.
She was visiting the emerald on that night, when she was almost twenty, when one of the chao came to get her from the tunnels. It seemed worried, so she walked it back to its nest, and then walked home, only to find one of the women from the village pounding on her door.
“It’s your mother,” she said, and Vanilla felt that numbness wash over her again.
Her mother had gone into town to plan for the wedding, only to fall into the water. Her head hit a sharp stone, which must have knocked her out, and by the time they found her, it was already too late.
She sat with Casein that night on the steps of his mill, and neither of them said anything.
When she eventually went back to the farm, it was too quiet. She tried to clean, but the silence was deafening, and so she ran to the chao garden and sat with them. When they cuddled on her lap, she cried and hugged them tight.
Casein would have delayed the wedding as long as she needed, she knew, but when her brothers came back for the funeral, she told them that the date hadn’t changed. “Mother wouldn’t want us to sit around and feel sorry for ourselves, now would she?” she said, as they sat under the spreading tree they’d buried Mother under. So the wedding would go on as planned, on their farm, under the arch her parents had married under.
A few nights before, as her cousins set up the decorations and argued with each other over placement, she managed to get Casein alone in the chao garden. They sat in the silence that wasn’t as deafening as it had been when her mother died, and then she spilled it all. That the garden held an emerald, that her family had guarded it for generations, that the lights beneath it had been going out, that she hadn’t told anyone, anyone before, and now that her mother was dead she was the only one to know and it was killing her.
He was quiet, and then he kissed her on the forehead, and told her that it must have been hard to keep that all inside. She told him if he didn’t want to join her in the responsibility, they could call off the wedding– it was the last thing she wanted to say, but she knew she had to give him the choice. Instead of responding, he kissed her again, and told her he wasn’t going anywhere.
Her mother was supposed to walk her down the aisle, and she cried that morning knowing that she wouldn’t. Her brother walked her down instead, as Casein’s grandfather walked him. It was a small gathering, of just family, and that was all either of them would want. Only a little while later, her older brother went back out to sea, and her younger brother back to town, and her cousins back to their own farms. It was just Vanilla and Casein, then, but the silence started to become nice when it was just them. They were both quiet people, and they would start their mornings sitting on the deck and hearing the song of the flickies and the buzz of the insects. It was harder to hear them when people talked, and so they stayed silent so that they could listen better. When it rained, they heard each drop-drop-drop on the ground, and that was somehow the most calming thing they’d ever heard.
---
That was how the next few years went on. Just her and Casein, sometimes with his grandfather visiting, sometimes with them visiting him. They got letters from her family, and farmed the land, and took care of the garden, and went on with their lives. 
Their first anniversary, Vanilla walked Casein to the emerald, guiding his hand and laughing as he stumbled. “I don’t know how you do this all the time.” he muttered.
“Years of practice, dear.”
She watched with excitement as his eyes lit up once they reached the gem. Seeing him see it for the first time, it was as if she was a child again, making her way through the tunnels for the first time.
When they made it out, he told her that that was very nice, but he’d prefer to stay out of the caves, and she laughed and told him that was fine, he’d just have to help her out with the chao, something he was much better at.
The only other time he went in with her was when the Heliodor light went out.
The Morganite’s light had turned pink a few years back, and then it had flickered and died, but the Heliodor shined on until, one day, it didn’t. Vanilla had Casein come look, and as they looked at the completely dimmed lights beneath the emerald, he told her that, really, there was no way for them to know what caused it, or how to fix it.
“But...”
“But?”
He hesitated. “Your brother’s theory–”
“Is ridiculous.”
“It could make sense. Nothing can kill an emerald, but if they... changed form...”
It had been a ridiculous rumor he’d sent back, because really he was their only source for news outside their town. The rumor said that the Zoah emerald, after being stolen, had come to life as a little mobian. That he was under the care of the last of the Great Owls. When Vanilla first got the letter, she dismissed it as a silly rumor, probably started by some random owl who wanted to seem more important than she was. But then they heard the rumor that the Sol empire’s princess had taken an emerald’s power into herself, that she was hidden from public view so that her new abilities wouldn’t be taken.
“Also a rumor,” Vanilla had decided, “From what little I know of the Sol Empire, they love to make people scared of them.”
Then the rumors of Cascade. The planet had turned from a utopia to a warzone in less time than it took to think about it, and Vanilla had been afraid, then, because most people believed it was because of the Black Arms.
“Cascade is far from us,” Casein had told her, then. But when, years later, reports came back that the Black Arms had been looking for an emerald there, that it may have taken form and fled, they’d both gotten a bit concerned then. Vanilla still didn’t believe the reports– the owl’s claim must have gotten out of hand– but the idea the Black Arms were still looking for emeralds... they weren’t a species to be reasoned with. If they found them...
It would be fine. They’d lasted this long without being found out. They could last longer.
---
When Vanilla found out she was pregnant, her and Casein were both over the moon. They cleared out the old nursery, setting up the crib her parents had used for all their children, going into town to find cute toys and building their own. When Vanilla went out to the gardens, Casein got fresh paint, and when she returned they fixed up the walls. He went a bit overboard, sticking things to every table corner, even though she reminded him the table was higher up than the baby would be able to reach, but “You can’t be too careful, ‘Nil, kids are a mess.”
“I know kids are a mess, I used to have three younger than me running around.”
“And about a million adults at the same time. It’s just us two.”
“Yeah, and only one kid.”
“Unless we end up with twins.”
“I think at this point we’d know if I was having twins.” she straightened up, then, and kissed his cheek. “Trust me, honey, when kid two comes along, we’ll know what we’re doing.”
It didn’t happen like that.
The world kept turning, and Vanilla had to stop working. Casein, his grandfather and some friends from town helped with the harvest, and then her husband would come back inside and sit with her and a light the fireplace, and they’d talk about name ideas or go through a book until one of them fell asleep. When he was out, she would sew or knit or read, or sometimes make her way to the kitchen and bake whatever she could.
The harvest passed, and winter came, and Casein died.
They’d been at home, almost asleep, when someone came to get them. The sloths, a few farms away, had their house collapse, and they were trapped in their basement. They’d heard Casein and Vanilla had the proper tools. They just wanted to borrow them, but Casein insisted on going, on helping as best he could. He kissed her on the cheek and told her he’d be right back, and left her in the silent farm.
She busied herself cooking, then, wanting the sloths to have something to eat once they were rescued. And everyone helping would be hungry once they finished. When Casein came back, she’d give him dinner, and then the next morning they could start delivering food to everyone else.
The next morning, Casein’s grandfather came to her door, and said that the basement had caved in halfway through the retrieval. Casein shielded the sloth’s four-year-old son with his body, and he hadn’t made it out.
Vanilla didn’t believe him at first. “Oh.” she said, and she didn’t say anything else.
It was a blur, then, just as it had been when her parents had died. Too fast, too slow. It seemed like forever that Casein’s grandfather stayed with her, telling her that if there was anything he could do, if she needed anything, all that stuff. It seemed like too fast before the funeral, and everyone expected her to say something, but she couldn’t think of a single word. People stopped by with food, offers to stay around and help, offering her a place to sleep if she was too alone. She only shook her head. People asked if she’d written her family. She hadn’t. She hadn’t seen them in years. She hadn’t read their most recent letters, either, her mind too jumbled. It was too silent. The silence was too loud.
The first rainfall after the funeral, she was sitting in bed, staring at the wall, a hobby she’d taken up recently. She heard the drop, drop, drop on the roof; the rain had started a while ago, but she’d only now processed the noise. As she did, she stood up, her mind as clouded as the night sky outside, and walked out of the house. She walked across the farm as the rain drop, drop, dropped onto her head, soaking her clothes, and walked to the garden.
The chao crowded around her, chirping and squeaking as if they were asking her questions. She kept walking.
Her mind was in a haze, as if she was dreaming while awake. She’d heard the rain, and remembered sitting on the deck with her husband, and thought, he’s not home yet. He must have gone to the garden.
She didn’t see him in the garden, so she went into the caves. He must be looking for me. He’ll be lost in there. I’ll just bring him back out.
She didn’t know how long she was in the tunnels, then. Longer than usual. Longer than she should. She wasn’t sure where she was going, either, only that her feet were moving while her head was somewhere far away. Walls twisted and turned around her as she stepped, barefoot, over either loose stone or thick dirt, she’d never figured it out. Maybe Father would know.
Vanilla only snapped back to reality when her water broke.
The second it happened, and she realized what was going on, her eyes flew open, and she stumbled back into a wall. She let out a cry as a sting leapt to her back, and her legs nearly collapsed, suddenly feeling heavier than lead. How long had she been out here? Why was she out here?
Where was she?
No, no, she couldn’t be lost. She knew these tunnels better than she knew herself. She couldn’t be lost. She... she didn’t know where she came in from, where had she even been walking to? Focus, Vanilla, you know these tunnels. You know these walls, they don’t all look the same, they do all look the same, everything looks the same...
Go.
Vanilla started running. She had to keep going through the tunnels, she had to get out. Nobody knew she was in here. Nobody knew these caves existed.
Casein knows.
Casein’s dead.
She ran for what felt like an eternity, as pains began in her chest and her feet began to skid and stumble. Vanilla saw light flicker ahead, and raced towards it. It was the light of the emerald, still shining atop its pedestal. She could find her way out from here. She knew where she was now...
She dropped to the ground and couldn’t get up again, and she began to scream.
She was alone, then, in that room full of teal light, and once again she didn’t know how long it took. Time slipped away and she was just clinging to her skirt, or to her ears, or to the ground, desperately trying to crawl away, but she didn’t have the strength to hold herself up. Somehow a million thoughts were going through her mind and none at all– the baby’s coming. The baby’s early. The baby shouldn’t be coming. The baby’s not supposed to come for weeks. Well, the baby’s coming. The baby shouldn’t be coming. Casein should be here. The whole family should be here. They were here when everyone was born. Why am I alone?
Why am I alone?
She passed out about then. When she opened her eyes next, a chao was floating in front of her, floating just a little bit above the ground. Her mind was clouded again, and hurt, and every inch of her body hurt, and the chao was flying away now, there were other chao singing, she could hear the singing but it was so loud... she shut her eyes, just as there was a burst of light to her side. She felt the rumble of the ground, the flash behind her eyelids... and then it was dark. It was too dark.
She opened her eyes. The teal light was gone.
She sat up, ignoring the cries of her arms as they hoisted her up, of her back as it straightened, of her legs as they slid across the ground. Yes, she sat up, and she turned and blinked. It was dark, too dark. No light, no light. No emerald. No...?
The chao were beside her as her eyes adjusted, from those years of experience in the dark tunnels. They sang, and helped her lean against a wall, and then dropped something in her arms.
Something was crying.
Vanilla looked down, and saw a tiny rabbit kit, pressing itself against her chest as it let out a tiny, high-pitched wail. It kicked the air, its hands in a tight fist. Its ears flopped over, much too big for its body, and it shifted away, almost falling from her grip. Instinctively, she tightened her hold, and that was when it clicked.
Oh.
She looked down at the baby in her arms, the crying child, and began to tremble. 
It was hard to tell in the darkness, but the baby was the same color as the neutral chao beside her, singing happily and peering over at the child. The same bright teal.
No.
Tears sprang to her eyes as she began to shake. She looked back up the emerald pedestal, where nothing rested anymore. No light at all.
Her baby cried again.
---
Days, weeks went on and Vanilla did everything she could.
She heard knocks on the door sometimes, worried calls inside. She didn’t respond, pouring through every book she could find. She snuck into town one night, breaking into the library to steal whatever few books on magic they had. She probably would have felt bad about that once upon a time, but she had to. She couldn’t be seen in town, it would become obvious the baby had arrived and she wasn’t about to answer questions about her at the moment. And she needed to protect her child.
All the stories clicked into place now. The rumors were true, all of them, all of them were right. The emeralds had taken form, had come to life. But not randomly, no. She had no doubt that something had been wrong when she went into labor. Her baby must have been weak, the chao must have thought they were helping. And there must have been many, many desperate families across the galaxy who managed to get their hands on an emerald. She didn’t know why it was all happening now, in the last several years, but the emeralds were finding their place in this universe.
But that place was not going to be her daughter.
Cascade had fallen because of the emerald living there, she knew now. Every time her brother sent her a letter now, there was news of another planet that the Black Arms had taken. They didn’t have a pattern, so she couldn’t tell if they were getting closer or farther away, but she wasn’t taking the chance. She’d knew what they could do. What they would do. What they would not do, because she was going to get the emerald out of her daughter. That baby was not going to grow up sparking with chaos energy, her fur shining in the obvious teal that anyone could tell belonged to the lost Aquamarine. Anyone would take one look at her and know what she was, and the word would spread, and then the Black Arms would come and kill them all. And worst, they would take her daughter, to do Chaos only knew what.
It wasn’t happening. No. She was going to fix this.
Whatever it takes.
After pouring through every story, legend, account or textbook on magic she could get her paws on, her mind sparked, and she raced up to her room, which she hadn’t been in since her daughter was born; she’d spent all her time in the nursery with her, terrified to leave her alone for a second, only sleeping when her body passed out from exhaustion. But she made it to her room, and threw open the dresser drawer. Her father’s journal was in there, and had been for a while. But she ripped it out and raced back to the nursery, and as her daughter slept, she poured through every crinkled page, nearly ripping them out in her haste.
She read everything as fast as she could. Everything that each guardian had noted about the emeralds, about the garden, about the magic flowing through it all. She spent the rest of the day and all night on it, breaking only to feed her daughter and shut the windows when someone came knocking again. By the time she was done, she had a plan.
The night was almost over when she gathered her daughter up in her arms, bundled her in a blanket, got everything she could need in a basket, and ran back to the garden.
The chao crowded around her and the infant, curious and confused, as she laid the girl on the ground. She lifted stones from the river, placing them around her. The ground, and the stones, would be flowing with chaos energy, from the chao that had lived there for generations. She would need that. At least, she assumed. There had never been a need to separate a chaos emerald from a living being. But God, she needed it now. She had spent the last several days combining the knowledge she could gather and remember of the emeralds, of magic, of ceremonies, of... of anything.
She cut parts of her fur off, spreading them over the rock circle, scattered the petals of flowers, the leaves of the trees. It was a lot of items, but she wasn’t sure which she would need and which she would not, and she didn’t want to pull a trial-and-error for the rest of her life, so she just dumped it all and hoped for the best. Finally, at the end, she removed her glove, cut her palm open with a knife from the kitchen, and let her blood drip into the circle. She heard the chao cry with alarm, but at the moment, she didn’t care about anything but the baby sleeping on the grass in front of her. 
She laid out papers, then; her notes, on every separation spell, every ancient language that had been attached to the emeralds at any point. She began to recite, in one language and then another. She tried to keep the pattern from all of the spells she’d read– the word pattern, syllable pattern, thought pattern, movement pattern. There were patterns, scattered across those spells, and so in order to make her own she had to know them, study them. She was lucky her cousin had gone through a magic phase when she was twelve, they had some books still in the house, there were some in the library donated decades before she was born, there were things she remembered her father teaching her about the emeralds and the chaos energy inherent to it. 
Over and over, repeating the spell she’d made. If this one failed, she had other drafts. If the blood dried, she would cut her hand open again. Whatever it took. Whatever it takes.
Her voice broke after a little while, but her eyes stayed locked on the paper, keeping her from seeing the chao begin to gather around her. Separating rituals were supposed to be for experienced spellcasters. She didn’t have time to become one, nor find one. Even if she could find one, nobody could know about the emerald. Nothing was going to happen to her daughter. Nothing.
Then, as she recited again, her words slipped into her native mobian. She hadn’t considered it a language for her spells, but she fell into it anyway as tears began to form. She spoke instinctively, as her ears fell into her face and her hands clenched the dirt and her voice wobbled and her throat clogged up and she felt everything, too much of everything.
I will not let this happen, I will not let my daughter live in danger. Even if it destroys the emerald, I don’t care anymore.
Nothing is more important than her.
The rocks began to shine.
Vanilla sat up, nearly breaking her chant, but she let the words finish, falling from her lips as a teal light sparked between the river stones. Then, just as the sun began to rise behind her, her daughter began to awaken.
The little rabbit kit kicked and yawned, raising her hands towards the sky. She scrunched up her nose, then, and let out a cry. Vanilla leapt to her feet, instinct telling her to grab her daughter immediately, but... no. The light had spread into the circle, the child, whose cries seemed muffled, tired. 
The light began to fly up, and then to spin. Vanilla stepped back, realizing, suddenly, that the chao were singing. She didn’t know if they knew what was happening, only that they were doing what they could. That was all any of them could do in life, really. Whatever they could, and whatever it took.
The light then pushed itself inwards, surrounding the infant. Then, slowly, it rose, and as Vanilla watched, the teal leaked away from her fur, like dripping paint, only flying into the air instead of to the ground. It lifted and spun, just a few feet above her, her fur turning whiter and redder the more the light went on.
The light stopped, then, floating just a little bit above the baby. It began to fly up, and the kit’s cries worryingly quieted. Vanilla screeched, racing forwards and accidentally knocking the river stones aside with her feet. She knelt down, picking up her daughter and holding her up, and cried with relief when her daughter let out an annoyed wail. She held the little rabbit to her chest, feeling those large ears flop against her hands, feeling the shaky breathing of the infant in her arms and clinging to her as if she were the last thing on the planet.
Her baby looked a lot like her. The same cream-colored fur, the same patches around her eyes, atop her head, the same fluffy tail. Her ears looked like her father’s, though, and she had his light orange tint instead of her brown. She was there, and she was alive, and she was okay.
It took Vanilla a while, again, to notice the chao beneath her, pressing against her, crawling onto her legs. She looked up only when her daughter quieted, and then turned in her arms, her face staring, unfocused, into the distance. Vanilla looked to the chao, and then forwards, and saw that the light was still there. It was flickering teal, sparking with energy, as if it were some kind of flying fire, or stationary lightning, or... really, she didn’t know how to describe it.
It floated closer. Vanilla flinched back, but the light kept moving, and the chao made little interested noises. It stopped just a little bit from them, and then held in the air. As if waiting.
The baby in Vanilla’s arms looked to the light, squinting her little eyes. Then her head turned, looking down at the surrounding chao. The chao made their little noises again, sounding excited. One flew up under the child’s ears, giggling as her fur tickled against them.
Then, as Vanilla watched in amazement, her little girl turned back to the light, lifted a hand, and touched it.
The light turned inwards on itself, and Vanilla scooched them back, watching as it began to shine brighter, more energy flowing and sparking and glowing in her view. Then, with a start, it began to take shape. Instead of a formless light, it began to shrink in on itself and form into a teardrop, then sprouting more little circles beneath. It...
The light drifted to the ground, just as it began to take color. Then, in a moment, the light was gone, and the sparks were gone, and on the ground was a neutral chao, looking as if it had just hatched. It curled on the grass, yawned, and began to sleep. At the same time, the baby in Vanilla’s arms curled against her chest and began to snore again as well.
Vanilla stared in shock, looking from her daughter to the new chao. The other chao didn’t share her stunned state, and simply went to the newcomer, singing happily. With the other neutral chao around it, it looked completely normal.
But it wasn’t, was it?
It couldn’t be a new life. The emerald had taken hold of her daughter, so she doubted if it could become a random life it wouldn’t have done so long ago. It had formed the light, and hadn’t left. And it had only changed when the little girl had touched it. Had... willed it to change.
She didn’t know how to describe it. But... a bit of her daughter’s soul was attached to the emerald. It had been, since it had become part of her, and always would stay with her. But it had taken form, a form that was intrinsically attached to her. One that would stay with her.
She would guess, much later, that the light had told the newborn to choose its form, the form that her power, her soul would take. And her daughter had chosen for it to become a friend.
As the sun rose, Vanilla walked back to her farm, carrying her daughter in one arm and the little chao in the other. She set them both into the crib, and knelt down to watch them for a long time. Then she sat at her desk and wrote to Casein’s grandfather.
“I just had the baby. She was sick, but she’s better now. Casein said if she looked like me we would name her Cream. I think that’s a marvelous name. Please come see her.”
---
She got a few questions about the chao. She just said that she’d accidentally given birth in the chao garden, and a chao had hatched at the same time. “The chao must have thought it was fate,” she said, “Because they pushed them together.”
A little lie. It weighed on her a little, but it lifted whenever she saw her little Cream smile.
She had been worried, the first couple weeks, but the chao really did act like a normal chao. No sparking energy, no odd coloring, no strange behavior. Well, a little strange behavior. They seemed to be progressing a bit slowly for a chao, but her daughter was progressing a bit fast for a mobian. She was babbling soon, and then walking. Vanilla had been worried that she may hurt the chao on accident, but despite still being an infant, Cream seemed to know exactly how to treat her friend.
And the world moved on.
Years pressed on. The farm changed, the village changed. Casein’s grandfather passed, but he’d at least gotten to meat his great-granddaughter, smiling with joy at how much she reminded them all of her father. She sent letters to her family and got letters back, promises to visit. Sometimes they stopped by, and little Cream would hug their legs or bounce in their arms. But mostly, it was just them. Just Vanilla holding Cream’s hands as she took her steps, just the little chao snuggled against Cream as she fell asleep on her mother’s lap, just Cream peering out the window, eyes wide with amazement at the change in weather.
It was silent, mostly, but it wasn’t as deafening as it used to be.
Well, and then Cream started talking, and wouldn’t stop, so the house was always filled with her excited laughter as she chased her chao around, or built a tower of blocks, or ran outside to pick flowers and run back in to give to her mother. She was a joy, an angelic child; Vanilla didn’t think she’d had a tantrum since she was a few months old, and she seemed to be filled with an eager desire to learn, to experience the world around her, and to help everyone who needed it.
Her favorite thing, though, was going with her mother to the chao garden. She loved each and every one of the chao– the light, the dark, the neutral, the speedsters and swimmers and every one she came across. She would flop among the flowers while her mother kept up the garden and let the chao cuddle with her, or play with them to her heart’s content. But above them all, she had the closest connection with her little chao, who followed her everywhere. Vanilla had feared, at first, that they wouldn’t be able to be separated, but one night Cheese wandered into the garden while Cream was asleep and nothing had happened. She probably could have let the little chao live in the garden, then– and she would have, if they had wanted to. But they returned with special flowers to put in the fur of the rabbits, and Cream clapped her hands with glee and a polite “Tank you,” and Vanilla had known she couldn’t separate them.
She wasn’t sure, really, if the little chao was its own person or not. It seemed to be, but it also seemed to be part of Cream. Then again, that was as if asking if Cream was her own person separate from the chao. She supposed the answer was “yes” and “no.” They were the same, and they were separate, and they had a connected soul, bound by the emerald that had faded into them.
When Cream was little, she named her chao. Vanilla wasn’t quite sure when, only that one day Cream sat up in her chair and cheered for “Cheese.” Vanilla had gotten up to get her food, before the chao cheered as well and flew over to her. “Cheese, Cheese, Cheese!” Cream had said, hugging them tight, and the little chao was Cheese from that point on.
Cream tended to wander, and at first that had worried Vanilla greatly, but it seemed that if Cheese was with her, they couldn’t get into any trouble. And she eventually figured out that if she asked the chao to babysit, they would do so, keeping Cream in their garden and watching her carefully while Vanilla rushed to water the plants or harvest from the trees. That took a lot off her shoulders, and she made sure to thank the chao every time she picked up Cream, and Cream would then copy her and thank them. The chao would chirp, and Cream would giggle, while Vanilla would realize that the chao were trying to tell her not to worry about it. She’d cared for them all her life, after all. Even if she didn’t have Cheese with her, Cream was Vanilla’s daughter, they’d be happy to take care of her.
It was still quiet, then, when Cream was at the garden. Vanilla would tend the farm and look up at the sky and listen to the flickies and let the wind blow through her fur.
Yes, the farm was quiet now. But the world kept turning, and so she would keep moving on.
Cream was at the garden one night, when Vanilla was cleaning the house– it was hard to do with such a young child underfoot. She had finished on the counters and was moving on to the floor when the door opened.
“Mama!” came Cream’s sweet little voice. “Mama!”
“Cream?” Vanilla stood, and began walking through the kitchen, towards the entryway, her feet picking up the pace as she went on. “Cream, what are you doing back here? You’re supposed to be at the garden.” 
“I kno’, but I found a friend by the waterfall and I wanna show her our flowers, and I think she needs food– can we make her cookies? Please?”
Vanilla had made it to the room by that point, and completely froze over.
Cream was still gabbing on– since she’d learned to talk, she really didn’t stop, did she? Beside her was Cheese, floating and chiming in with the occasional “Chao! Chao! Chao!”
And beside them, a little girl, maybe eight or nine– perhaps older, and just short. She seemed to be a hedgehog, reaching up to press her quills against the side of her head to try and adjust the style. Her eyes were clouded, blank... and a shocking green. They shone, like an emerald’s light. And her quills, they were a startling pink, one that most mobians didn’t get. The same pink of the Morganite’s light, that had died... about the same time this girl would have been born.
“–and she said she wants to see the roses, and she also said she hasn’t seen a waterfall before and I asked where–”
The girl looked to Vanilla, then, and their eyes met. For a moment, Vanilla felt tense, worried.
She had worked so hard to keep her daughter safe, to keep any trace of the emeralds away from her. And this girl... this girl must be the Morganite. She had to be, and even a normal mobian like Vanilla could tell that she had an energy about her, like the chao in the garden, a chaos energy in her blood.
The girl blinked, and Vanilla looked at her eyes again. They were... dazed. Lost.
Numb.
It was a look Vanilla recognized well.
Vanilla swallowed, and then stood up a bit straighter.
“What would you like to eat, dear?” she asked. “We have plenty of food. Or would you like to sleep?”
The girl stared at her, confused. Then, slowly, as if mobian wasn’t her first language, she said, “I’d like to see the roses... if that’s... alright.” 
“Of course. Follow us to the garden, then we’ll get you some water.”
Cream ran forwards, taking one of her mother’s hands as she babbled on. Cheese floated beside her. Then, slowly, the little pink girl grabbed Vanilla’s other, outstretched hand. Her eyes were fixed on the other hand, as if she wasn’t sure how to hold hands at all. Slowly, Vanilla brought them outside to the flowers, and let the girl stare at the reds, whites and pinks that bloomed against the leaves. Cream explained how roses bloomed and how they watered them and how they had thorns that Mama wouldn’t let her touch, and Vanilla watched the girl carefully. Then, the girl said she needed to sleep.
“You can have my room! I’ll sleep on the couch!”
“No, no.” Vanilla sighed. “We have other beds in the Nursery.”
“Sleepover? Sleepover! Yay, Cheese, Sleepover!”
Vanilla knelt in front of the other girl as Cream and Cheese danced around. She looked to her quills, and then met her eyes again.
She remembered something her father said, long ago, when she was about this girl’s age, and he’d told her that she was a guardian now. The emeralds had been split, he said, but legend said they would find each other again. They belonged together, and it was only a matter of time before they united once more.
Well. She wasn’t sure if her daughter still counted as an emerald now. But it was connected to her, and while the distance had kept her safe, and would keep her safe for years to come, Vanilla realized, then, that she couldn’t halt fate completely. The least she could do, then, was help her daughter. And this child. And whoever else came to her door.
“What’s your name, sweetheart?” she asked.
“A-Amy.” she said. She glanced to the flowers, and then said, “Amy the Rose.”
She flinched, then, as if she hadn’t meant to say that. Vanilla sighed. The Morganite was the Rose Emerald, wasn’t it? “Amy Rose.” she said, and the little girl smiled. “That’s very pretty. I’m Vanilla. I see you met Cream and Cheese. Do you have anyone with you?”
Amy’s face fell into that numbness again, and she shook her head.
“Well,” Vanilla said, “You have us now. Would you like to see the rest of the garden? I’m sure the chao would love to meet you.”
Vanilla picked up Cream, then, holding her at her side, and grabbed Amy’s hand, and took her to the garden where the emeralds had once laid. The chao swarmed the girls, and as Amy giggled and stroked them, Vanilla looked to the river, and then to the ivy, hiding the caves nobody had touched in years.
I’m the guardian. she thought to herself. And whether that’s to one emerald or seven, I will do what I’m supposed to do, and take care of them. Whatever they need.
And whatever it takes.
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