Give us spooky Fef! Its so underused despite her being raised by a horroterror! 38/
You might see her out from the corner of your eye, even if you don’t want to.
There is something... different about Feferi Peixes. Perhaps, if you met her before the other trolls, you might think that it was a troll thing. The way she moves like, for brief moments of time, there’s no internal structure in her body, or her hair fluttering and moving into thick tendril-shapes and ghostly suckers appearing on them, just for a moment.
But no. The trolls are big, yes; their massive bodies absurdly curvaceous, even a small troll’s breasts big enough for a human to vanish between them, but they just don’t have the same strangeness as Empress Peixes does. Their black armored bodies seethe with power, psionic and otherwise, but the sense of inhuman strangeness does not linger with them.
You swear you can see her in the mirror. Her mouth is stretched so far that it could not possibly fit on her skull, mandibles gaping wide and rows and rows of dozens of horrific teeth, clustering together and moving against themselves, clattering.
You turn around. There is nothing there. And the reflection in the mirror is gone. But you remember those eyes: bright and pink, glowing faintly; between the black of her chitinous armor, the swell of her ghostly hair, you think that her horns looked like the shape of a crown.
A queen, monstrous and beautiful all in the same way (her beauty cannot be lovely without the horror, and her monstrosity is all the more alluring because it is so wrong), crowned by her blood.
You shiver. Are all fuchsias like that?
The trolls will not answer. You get the impression that it is not something they are comfortable answered, or thinking about. It haunts them, like a dark and painful secret.
And slowly, you begin to think that fuchsias like Feferi are somehow... wrong, in the hemospectrum. That they were not something that was supposed to naturally occur.
Feferi laughs in the back of your head. It’s surprisingly maternal; amused, perhaps. “What is, will be. It always has been, and it must be.” Her voice says even soft things like they are commandments carved into stone, granted authority through their mere existence.
Sometimes you find her hiding under your bed, her great pink eyes staring intently into you as you slumber. She is nearly twenty feet tall and far too large to fit into your small room, let alone get under your bed. And sometimes, when you bathe, you feel her in the water. Not saying anything. But simply there, and even though the water is hot enough to make the mirrors steam over, it feels terribly cold.
You turn, in the here and now, and you see her. She beams at you. Her massive breasts move briefly as she opens her arms wide, as if for a hug.
Her arms are studded with suckers. You think you see teeth in them. Her skin moves and flows like water bubbling with something vast and terrible rising from beneath, and you cannot help but gaze up at her bulk, and think that something is coming.
You wonder if you can even understand what you are looking at, with the Empress Peixes. Perhaps this isn’t even her true form. Maybe it’s just something you can understand.
You don’t know if taking that hug is safe or not.