#kieru writes

[nightlynightwing]

just-romantic-things: accepting your lover may eventually choke you to death with her own two hands

[blackcatbard]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

i’m not even gonna bother wasting time doing art for this chapter, ust please take this along with an apology for long it took.

good news and bad news. next chapter is the last one. that’s it that’s all the news.

[nightlynightwing]

meant to be

Mammon had decided he was going to let himself rot away, hidden under thick comforters, pillows, and the crushing weight of his own mortification. His plan would have worked, too… That is, if Lucifer hadn’t kicked down his door the next morning when he was running late to breakfast. He was te...

word count: 4950 rating: e for everyone fandom: ob.ey me! Perhaps I am the one who is the pining dumbass. Follow up to in a crowd of thousands.

cool this is mega embarrassing and the biggest dumpster fire i've ever written but i doNT CARE SOMETIMES YOU JUST GOTTA WRITE SOME CHEESY SHIT!!! the song Satan sings at the end is the song that follows In a Crowd of Thousands in the Anastasia musical.

[nightlynightwing]

a night of rest

word count: 1,772 ship: f.jord/anya notes: this takes place at the end of this past week’s episode. it’s technically a two-parter, but the second half is… a bit more spicy. we’ll see if people want it lmao. also, there’s a scene mentioned thats based on this drawing that i plan on also writing out eventually. also, this is Mostly Canon, but it might change later into the campaign, so (shrugs)

Beau and Jester were having their conversation in the stairway as they made their way to their room. Their voices, though they spoke in “whispers”, were loud enough to carry all the way down to the main floor. Anya could hear Caduceus’s basey voice reply, followed by Caleb calling up the stairs, also in response. The girls expressed their annoyance, and everyone in the Nein couldn’t help but laugh.

Anya stood up from her chair, smoothing out her cloak. She took in the sight around her, watching as Caleb pulled out a small flask, and Anya could already guess what was going to go down. She made her way to the stairs that would lead to her room on the XorHouse’s second floor. “Ah, you headin’ up?” 

Anya almost bumped into Caduceus as he made his way back to answer a summons from Caleb. He gave her a smile, one of those he would give that made Anya feel safe.

“Yeah, I probably should,” she nodded in thanks as Caduceus sidestepped to let her up into the stairs. “G’night, Fairy Floss.”

Caduceus returned her sentiment as she ascended, her aching body crying out for the sweet embrace of her mattress. Though, at this point, she honestly couldn’t tell if the pain she felt was physical, or if the emotional stress from everything that had happened was taking some sort of external toll on her body. Probably both.

She had just reached her door and was pushing it open when she heard the sound of footsteps from around the corner; Fjord almost bumped into her as he turned to head down the hall towards his own room.

“Ah,” Fjord stopped himself, taking a step back. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Anya responded, her voice soft. 

Images, memories of moments spent with Fjord suddenly flashed in her mind; times she had been alone with Fjord, and the feelings that had erupted in her chest when she thought she might lose him in the fight against the Laughing King; feelings that he had seen on her face, and heard in her voice. Stronger than that is the memory of the warmth that flooded her whole body as she sat beside Fjord, separated from their group, barely illuminated by the light of the fire, and their faces mere inches from each other. 

They stared at one another for several seconds, the time stretching between them, awkwardness thickening the air.

“We… We should talk,” Fjord managed to say.

Anya gave an embarrassed laugh. “Yeah… yeah. Come on in.”

Anya pushed her way into her room, lingering with her hand on the door as Fjord slipped inside as well. Closing the door behind him, Anya shuffled around the room quickly, using the small shafts of moonlight shimmering through her curtained windows to guide her to the candles scattered around her room. 

When she had finished lighting a few, their warm, dim glow revealed Fjord standing in the middle of Anya’s room, awkwardly glancing around. 

Clearing her throat, Anya pulled a chair away from her desk, gesturing Fjord to sit. As he complied, Anya went to sit on her bed.

For a moment, silence hung in the air like a fog, and Anya just looked Fjord’s face over as he studied her in return. The flickering illumination of the few candles she lit made his features more intense…

“So…” Fjord said.

“So.” Anya’s spoke softly, and she had to clear her throat to rid herself of a weird catch in her voice. Now that they were here, she had no clue what to say, so she just said the first words that came into her mind, “Are you okay?”

This must have taken Fjord by surprise, because it took him a moment to answer.

“I… guess I’m alright. Alright as I can be, anyhow,” he responded. “What about you?”

“Just the same, I suppose…” Anya muttered, absentmindedly rubbing at a bruise on her ribs.

“Well… what happened?” Fjord asked, his tone hesitant. “I know things’ve been… different between us for a while now, but I ain’t ever seen you act like that,”

Anya felt her stomach clench as she remembered how she had screamed her throat raw in the battle against the Laughing King, calling Fjord’s name as she desperately tried to figure out a way to save him; how hard and uncontrollably her tears had fallen as she had shakingly tried to use the last of her arcane energy to heal Fjord as much as she could, because she couldn’t help but think of herself mourning over his beaten, lifeless body.

“I… I don’t know,” she replied. “I don’t think I’d ever felt that way before.” She looked down at her hands, thinking back to how hard they were shaking; she elected to blame these memories for their slight tremors now. 

“How did you feel?” Fjord’s voice was low.

Anya swallowed nervously, and it took her a moment to find the words to respond with. 

“Like… if I lost you, I wouldn’t know what I’d do with myself.”

Her words lingered in the air, sinking into Anya’s own mind, and she could feel her face beginning to flush.

“You said things have been different for a while,” Anya said quickly. “What do you mean by that?”

It was Fjord’s turn to search for words. Anya could almost see his brain working to put his thoughts together, his hand in his chin, fingers covering his mouth that she could see was slanted in a frown. His eyebrows furrowed, leaving creases in his forehead. 

“I’m sure you remember that night we were alone in the woods,” he began. Anya nodded. “It’d been growin’, that feeling that things were… weird. That somethin’ was changing. And that night really brought it to a head…” 

Anya couldn’t tell if the dancing shadows of the candlelight were just playing tricks on her eyes, or if Fjord’s cheeks seemed darker in the way only a blushing orc’s face could be.  

“Those feelings…” Fjord had been looking off to the side, but when Anya spoke, he turned back to her. “Those feelings from that night, I’ve felt them before. But… they’re feelings I’ve been used to only feeling for a night, with someone who understood they wouldn’t be there the next morning…” Anya face was really burning now, and a strange lump had formed in her throat, pounding in rhythm with her racing heart. 

She forced herself to look up, to look Fjord in the eye, who was looking at her with an intensity she knew wasn’t just a trick of the light.

“This is the first time those feelings have lasted so long.”

Maybe Fjord could feel it too, the dizziness that had suddenly swept the room, the weird electricity that raced all along the top of Anya’s skin, and that’s what made him stand, made him cross the room to meet Anya, and maybe it’s what made Anya stand up from the bed to meet him, as well. 

Anya had no clue how long they stood there, eyes locked as if in a trance, just inches from each other. She felt as though someone else had decided to move her hands as they reached up to grasp at the front of Fjord’s shirt, tugging to move his face down close to hers. They’d been this close before, tantalizing and magnetic, always interrupted by confusion or the voices of others. No voices came this time, and the confusion that still lingered wasn’t enough to break the force pulling them together.

Fjord was the one to close the inch of difference, and Anya felt her stomach jolt when Fjord’s lips met hers. 

The kiss was soft, slight, tentative and curious. Their skin barely touched, and they let themselves stay like that for just a moment, drinking in all these new feelings. It was Anya who pushed, let the embrace deepen enough that she could feel Fjord’s newly sprouting tusks underneath his bottom lip. Fjord’s hands were on her waist, and the pressure of his touch felt warm and strangely heavy. 

This wasn’t their first kiss, but it was so, so different. Before, everything had been so strange, new, and a little daunting. Now, everything seemed to fit into place; one of Anya’s hands had curled up and around Fjord’s neck, cradling his nape and pulling him closer to her; Fjord’s arm moved to wrap around Anya’s body, curving her body into his so that their stomachs pressed together, his other hand gripping at her waist more tightly.

Lips parted, breath quickened, the room was thick with this strange energy holding them together, and Anya could feel her heartbeat echoing through every inch of her body. It wasn’t until her lungs were screaming that she finally forced herself to break away.

Her breath came in hot puffs, stirring the stray strands of ruffled hair. When she pulled back, Fjord’s tongue was left lolling out slightly, a small string of saliva connecting it to Anya’s lips that quickly broke as Anya moved away. Fjord removed his hand from Anya’s waist, using a thumb to swipe the stray strand of spittle away.

There was another stretch of silence until Fjord moved his hand, gently swiping Anya’s hair from her face, tucking it behind one ear and letting his hand drift to tangle with her short, choppy hair.

Lightly pressing his forehead to Anya’s, Fjord whispered,

“Will these feelings still be here tomorrow morning…?”

Anya let his words settle, let herself really feel everything she was feeling in that moment; what she had said before was true, the emotions rocketing through every nerve were ones she had felt before. But these were different, just like everything that had happened with her lately. These felt so much deeper, so much more frightening… and so much more exhilarating. 

“I think so…” she breathed back to him, putting her face close enough that her lips faintly brushed against his as she spoke. She raised her hand to touch it gently to his cheek, and a spark of something flashed in her eyes as her mouth tilted into a crooked smile. “You could always stick around and find out…”

Anya was expecting Fjord to laugh, to end their encounter here with notions of it not being the right time, or too soon. And she was perfectly fine with that; her suggestion wasn’t entirely serious, just her throwing out her usual playful musings. Her remark of “just kidding” and the beginnings of a laugh were just gathering on her tongue when Fjord tilted his head a bit his mouth curling in consideration.

“Y’know… I think I just might.”

[blackcatbard]

please ignore how... awful this design is. i’m not good at... living. or making cool designs.

this is for a puzzleshipping au! one that i’m probably gonna work on once im done with fabricated world. i’m just calling it the “poisoned prince” au, and i’ just... gonna post the small drabble that’s pretty much the beginning of a chapter, it’s easier than trying to summarize. hnnnnnnnnnnn i get the feeling the writing is better than the drawings here i apologise. i just wanted to have an au where atem is Creepy and Weird. this design is definitely not final.

check out the read more for a Thing >:3

Stories tell of a prince...

A boy, kissed by the mother goddess, blessed with the radiance of the sun, and a soul just as warm. He shone bright, and his heart was for his people. He never strayed for want and darkness.

One day, history- or rather, legend- tells of a traveler who came to the prince's castle, their origin unknown and their identity surrounded in mystery. All that is recorded is after the traveler left, the prince began to behave strangely. He became angry, unkind, selfish. His people believe that over time, poison covered his heart and seeped into his veins.

The stories go on to speak of a horrible storm. A gale of corruption. Of tar and poison and wickedness, brought on by the prince himself from the heart of his kingdom. Destroying his land, ravaging his people until they were no more. The tempest resulted in the prince's transformation into a horror, a monster, doomed to cause corruption and chaos wherever he may roam.

Over time, a bog came to exist around the decimated kingdom, sinking homes torn asunder beneath it's sucking surface. Trees with branches like reaching claws curl from the rotting ground, a dark forest growing as a wall around the damaged land.

In the heart of the wood rests the felled castle, walls dripping with tar, where the monstrous prince is said to still wander the halls, waiting to corrupt the soul of any traveler who may be unfortunate enough to wander into his poisoned home.

Yuugi grew up hearing these stories, as all the children did in his hometown. It was a myth, a fable told to ward the children off a dark path for uncounted generations. As a youth, the story shook Yuugi to the core, and on nights where the moon was absent in an inky sky, he would eye the shadowed forest with a pit of anxiety settled in his stomach. Was the monster there, lurking just in the underbrush of the treeline? Waiting... waiting to corrupt his heart and drag him into hell.

Years passed, and the shadows stretched across Yuugi's bedroom walls started to look less like monsters. Fear of the poisoned prince had been flushed from his system, replaced by a sort of... stubborn skepticism.

New children now ran about the town, a new generation the local elders could instill the lurking fear of their beloved tale into.

Nearing adulthood, Yuugi was amazed to find that even within the older circles of his home, that fear still lingered. Shopkeepers would close their stores before the final tendrils of darkness overtook the skyline. Parents would shoo their children back into their homes long before dusk, glancing back towards the forest with a flicker of fright flashing over their face.

It was bewildering, really, to watch all these grown ass adults jump at the sound of a twig breaking as soon as the sun started to set.

“Do you think anyone really knows what's even out there?” Yuugi asked one night, staring out the window of his bedroom.

“What's out where?” replied Joey, Yuugi's childhood friend who was currently strewn out on Yuugi's bed, tossing a wooden ball into the air and catching it before throwing it up once again in a repetitive need to keep himself occupied.

“In the woods,” Yuugi said, turning in his desk chair to look over to Joey.

He watched as Joey glanced at him, his focus slipping at precisely the worst possible moment and the ball just missing him palm, falling to land sharply on his nose. Gasping in pain, Joey sat up, grasping at the bridge of his nose and glaring when Yuugi's laughter slipped out despite his attempts to stop it.

“Well, sure they do,” Joey said when Yuugi's laughter subsided into soft giggles, gingerly rubbing at this nose. “That prince is out there, isn't he?”

Yuugi's giggles turned into a snort of disbelief. When he saw the incredulous look on Joey's face, his brow furrowed. “Come on, Joey,” Yuugi scoffed, propping his elbow on his desk and leaning his cheek against the palm of his hand. “You don't really believe that old fairytale, do you?”

Joey's mouth slanted into a frown. “Well... I guess not,” He leaned forward to glance out the window, watching as the treetops rustled gently in the nightly breeze. “But... y'know, a lot of fairytales have some kind of... sprinkle of reality in 'em, yeah?”

Yuugi raised an eyebrow. “So, you do think there's a monster in the woods?”

“Not necessarily a monster,” Joey huffed, leaning back on Yuugi's bed. “But something dangerous, probably. Maybe that bog's really out there, and the person who wrote the story wrote it to make the village kids too scared to go out and explore so they wouldn't get stuck in the muck.”

Pulling his bottom lip between his teeth in thought, Yuugi contemplated this, glancing back out into the trees.

“I... guess that makes sense.” he conceded, “But I can't help but feel like we're... missing out on something. Like there's something really interesting out there we can't get to because we're all to scared of our own shadow.”

“Well, if there is something interesting out there, it can stay out there.” Joey claimed. “No way you'll catch me out there to be a prince snack.”

Yuugi rolled his eyes. “I thought you said you didn't believe in the prince.”

“On the off chance he is real, I don't wanna take any risks.” Joey replied with finality, pulling himself to his feet and stretching. “Well, I better get back home before Serenity thinks I've died.”

Yuugi chuckled. “Wouldn't want her to think your soul’s been dragged to hell, huh?”

“Exactly,” Crossing Yuugi's room, Joey pulled open Yuugi's door and turned around, smiling. “Don't let me wake up to find you've wandered into the woods and become a snack for the prince yourself.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Yuugi said, waving his hand in a gesture of farewell.

When he heard his door shut, Yuugi turned to look out the window one final time. He scanned along the roots of the trees, trying to see past the barrier of darkness that limited his view. He recalled when he would be kept up late at night, believing with all his heart that the flickering shadow of a bush was the lurking silhouette of a monster, or the shine of the moon between the leaves was a fanged maw, dripping with tar and malice.

If he squinted hard enough, he imagined he could still manage to catch a glimpse of the beasts of fantasy that used to haunt his nightmares.

Sighing heavily, Yuugi dimmed his lamp, the only light in his room now from the moon, thin as a Cheshire cat's grin in the sky. His blankets called to him, wrapping him in warmth as he settled into his bed.

He wasn't quite sure how long he lay awake, his mind wandering from chores needed doing in the morning, to wondering if Joey made it home safely. His eyes suddenly felt heavy, and he felt sleep starting to win over his mind. He didn't even bother wondering over the thing that blocked the light of the moon for just a moment, just before his eyes closed.

[blackcatbard]

Fabricated World Chapter 4 Preview

LOOK AT ME! Saying the next chapter wouldn’t take as long as the last one, and yet here I am, two months later, with still no update! i’m sorry T v T

here’s a little preview to show that i’m working on it! <3 preview under the cut!

Yuugi had never felt this kind of impending dread before, and it was a feeling he couldn't explain.

Ryou seemed like good company, flashing both him and Atem kind smiles and leading them down the purple-walled hallway he had come from, and exchanging pleasant conversation.

“Do you have a rose, Ryou?” Atem asked, pulling his own red flower from the button hole of his jacket. Yuugi instinctively reached down to take his rose from his bag.

“I do,” Ryou replied, and Yuugi wasn't quite sure he caught where Ryou pulled his rose from. It looked just like his and Atem's, only Ryou's was a deep blue.

“We best be careful with them,” Atem began, puffing his chest out and trying to sound as if he was the leader of their little rag-tag group. “We aren't sure what sort of dangers are waiting ahea-”

Before he could finish, Ryou trotted back to stand beside Yuugi, his brown eyes sparkling.

“Your rose is such a lovely colour!” Ryou said, holding his rose beside Yuugi's. Yuugi resisted the urge to pull his rose away. “Blue is probably my favourite colour, but purple is nice, as well!”

Atem's face twitched with annoyance. “Are you even listening to me...?” He muttered, reaching to gently rub a thumb over one of the petals of his rose.

“Nevermind, Atem,” Yuugi said with a smile, patting Atem's arm and leading them forward. Atem let out a huff, but said nothing else and followed.

The hallway ended abruptly. To the left, there was a set of stairs, which Yuugi cautiously ascended. At the top, there was another hallway to their left that lead to a door, and another door just ahead of them. Yuugi stepped forward to try the door, but, true to the pattern of this place, it was locked.

“Might as well try the other one, maybe there's a key.” Ryou said, taking off down the hallway. Atem raised and eyebrow, and Yuugi had to wonder what he was thinking. However, he just shrugged and made to follow Ryou, Yuugi falling into step with him.

Ryou had already reached the door. “It's open!” he called behind to the other two, pushing it open and stepping inside. Atem walked a bit faster to catch up, but Yuugi paused in the middle of the hallway, a painting catching his eye.

The plaque beneath it read Flowers of Jealousy. Yuugi took a step forward to inspect it, his brows furrowing. There were no flowers in this painting; it seemed more like it was a picture of a brown, barren landscape. Something about the name of the painting, along with the lack of vegetation within it, made Yuugi uneasy, but he didn't have long to think about it before he heard Atem calling him from the room ahead.

[nightlynightwing]

in a crowd of thousands

“I don’t think I can do this…” Mammon was peeking out from behind the thick main curtain of RAD’s theatre, looking down to all the people sitting out in the seats of the auditorium, chatting quietly among themselves. From behind him, Kieru sighed. “I told you, you don’t have to do this; I can p...

word count: 3348 rating: e for everyone fandom: ob.ey me! Maybe joining a club just to make sure your crush doesn’t get close to your younger brother isn’t the best idea...

OKAY so this is a little bit awkwardly written, there’s exposition, the part with the singing is written way different than it normally would be because i wanted to give it a bit more depth, and just... it’s a mess, but it’s my mess.

small note: my MC’s name is Kiersten, but a majority of the brothers call her by the nickname Kieru. Lucifer and Satan don’t very often just because he feels a bit too proper to call her by a nickname, so Satan calls her by her full name in this. (also, it’s actually my name/nickname lmao.....)

[nightlynightwing]

diana + kiss

TEN MILLION YEARS LATER BECAUSE IT TAKES ME FOREVER TO WRITE!!

diana + kiss = distraction

-

“I don’t think I can do this,”

Anya paced back and forth, running a gloved hand through her hair in an attempt to calm herself down, disturbing the elegant style some poor soul had taken a good chunk of time to prepare for her.

Diana, standing just a few feet away from her and peeking into the door to the high class gallery the two of them were attending together, glanced back at her, which just made the nerves needling at Anya’s stomach sting worse.

“Can’t do what?” Diana asked, moving to step closer to Anya.

“This!” Anya yipped back, gesturing frantically to the door, where the sound of soft conversations and the clink of wine glasses hummed through. “I don’t belong here!”

Concern furrowed Diana’s brow as Anya turned away, clutching at her stomach. She caught her reflection in a window that looked out into the black night sky. She couldn’t recognize herself; an extravagant red high low gown flowed gracefully around her legs, and expensive heels wrapped around her ankle. Golden jewelry accented the arrangement, and she couldn’t help but feel she had glimpsed into some alternate world.

“I look like a little kid playing dress up,” Anya said quietly.

Diana reached out to cup Anya’s face gently in her hands, looking down at her with a soft expression.

“You look beautiful,” she said, brushing Anya’s hair back into place. “Why would you think you don’t belong?”

Anya leaned into Diana’s touch, almost involuntarily.

“It hasn’t been that long since I was the sort of person who’d crash this kind of thing,” Anya said, her voice soft, her anxieties putting a waver in her tone. “Everyone in there is gonna take one look at me and know; they’ll know I’m not good enough to be here, let alone with someone like you! I’m gonna make a fool of myself and…”

Anya’s speech had become so frantic that she switched to Spanish somewhere in the middle without her noticing, and her hand had reached up to tightly grip one of Diana’s that still held her cheeks. Hot, frustrated tears had gathered in her eyes, a hard blink sending one down her face and into Diana’s palm.

Diana let her go on for another second before she moved forward, gently pressing her lips against Anya’s. Anya stopped, standing rigid at first before her body melted, leaning in just as she had with Diana’s hands.

This kiss only lasted a brief moment before Diana leaned back, using a thumb to brush away another tear as it fell.

“Wh…” Anya felt dizzy, and she had to take a steadying breath before she tried to speak again. “What was that?”

“A distraction,” Diana responded, “I wanted to distract you from your anxieties for a moment; did it work?”

Anya stood, slightly bewildered, before she realized the sick feeling in her stomach had lessened, and though her heart pounded in her chest, now it was for a different reason.

“I… I think it did,” Anya said.

“Good,” Diana reached to a nearby table that held a small box of tissues, pulling some out and handing them to Anya. “Now I can reassure you that you absolutely belong here, with me, because I want you here,”

Anya pressed one tissue to her eye, glancing up to Diana as she spoke.

“I won’t make you go out there if you don’t want to,” Diana continued, “If it’s what you want, you can wait for me out here, I’ll take care of the appearances I need to make tonight as quickly as possible, and we can leave together,” She used her hand to gently brush Anya’s hair, her expression soft and comforting. “But you don’t have to worry about being good enough, because you are.”

Anya was quiet as she gazed into Diana’s face, still slightly dazed as emotion threatened to overtake her once more. She closed her eyes, centering herself for just a moment.

“No,” she said, her voice sounding more confident. “If you want me here, that’s all I need,”

Diana beamed, taking Anya’s hand gently in her own and giving it a soft squeeze.

Anya took a few steps to stand in front of the door into the gallery, Diana stepping up beside her. As Diana opened the door, leading the way inside, Anya closed her eyes one more time, feeling the warmth of Diana’s grasp and letting it comfort her, then let herself be pulled inside by it, her head held high.