hollow world

✣ once a peaceful sanctuary, the hero's bath has turned into amphoreus' most taxing test of courage. ever since aglaea's wife expressed a deep enjoyment of the area, the chances of running into said wife have increased dramatically. under normal circumstances this would be no issue, but considering the expected attire one would have in a bath — that is, nearly none at all — the idea of informing aglaea even on something she asked for can turn the stomach of the most hardened soldier. truthfully, seeing her in a state of undress would be more uncomfortable than anything else. no, it was the primal dread of what would be made of them if they were to ever witness her precious wife in such a way.

⁀➷

"so when i had asked mydei about it, he just grumbled something about phainon being too trusting, but he was totally jeal- ack!"

aglaea sighs as you get too excited telling your story, and as usual, flail so much you stop floating atop the water and nearly drown yourself. her fingers barely flutter as a few threads grab and turn you right-side up. your hair flops over your forehead and eyes, making you resemble a sheepish puppy when you part the strands and smile at her.

"i should consider having you participate in the children's sunday swimming lessons," she teases while watching you with a quick beating heart as you whine about unnecessary bullying.

she's been finding herself more fascinated with you recently.

romance and love have been long intertwined throughout history, so it should be no surprise she has found the incarnation cradling her heart. with all the time that passes, your grip only grows tighter, but she would be no more than the common perjurer if she said she disliked it. the sheer will of your own fondness for the world around you has her enraptured in ways even cerces would find no answer for.

still, you live with such carelessness that she cannot find herself to fathom when it seems like nothing is ever going your way. how you manage to brush it off, much like the water dripping from your curved chest, is a skill she'd rather not hone.

she coughs to herself as her thoughts wander. the water seems warmer than usual — it must be effecting her intuition.

her eyes drift down once more. you're too distracted to notice, surely. the habit of getting engrossed in your own stories is something she'll make sure to thank mnestia for tonight.

༄ stelle:

✣ despite appearances and what others might say, the trailblazer is no fool. stelle is well aware of her privilege to be able to travel among the stars in an endless adventure. where she considers this privilege to turn into a blessing stems from the fact her girlfriend is trailblazing by her side. you're never thrown into the fray in a way similar to her (and she prefers it that way), but knowing you're by her side only makes her feel stronger in battle. no matter what, she'll win every fight in your name.

✣ she would never judge march 7th for her fascination with photography and is always happy to help her friend, but she personally felt as if living in the moment and keeping the experience to a beautiful memory made it feel more special. this was the case until you started dating, because now she's in the middle of filling her third camera solely with pictures of you. naps in her room, exploring new planets, date nights, petting random dogs you see — she wants to cherish every moment of joy that you give her.

✣ freedom is something held in high regard by akivili's followers, stelle included, but… can you act less free around other women? she isn't really used to feeling jealously this intense and navigating it is a challenge to say the least. controlling your free will would never sit right with her, yet that aching weight in her heart when you blush over kafka's boldness or are enraptured with herta's genius speaks some pretty treacherous thoughts into her subconscious. luckily, it slips her mind the second she's cuddled in your arms with a wagging raccoon tail.

⁀➷

the bright lights of planarcadia's main street feel's like it's burning stelle's eyes more and more by the second, but she's too preoccupied with dragging you in joining her unpredictable escapades. the night life was incomparable to anything else she'd experienced, and she wanted you to enjoy every last second with her.

your laughs echo against the brick buildings, turning her heart into a gooey mess. she almost feels sick with how much she adores you, wanting more of your praise and adornment. some would find the way she craved to satisfy you lamentable, but nothing brought her more happiness than seeing you happy.

"– and this is where march ate noodles so spicy she ended up puking after," she giggles while pointing out some fast casual gimmick restaurant before stopping the two of you at an ice cream stand.

when you express concern for march despite the event being over a week ago, stelle tugs you closer and nuzzles against your neck with big, wet eyes and whines, "you're not even gonna ask if i was okay?"

you poke her forehead and remind her, "i've seen you eat bugs, drywall, and literal trash. i think the noodles should've been scared of you instead."

she sighs in response, complaining loudly about being unloved and spousal abuse even as she's paying for your ice cream cone. the employee gives you a quick glance up and down with too much longing for stelle's comfort and she's quick to tug you closer to her side with puffed cheeks and a narrowed gaze.

the cold cream touching her lips takes her out of the one sided internal battle she was fighting, yelping as she looks down and sees you chuckling and pressing your cone to her mouth. her heart feels like it's going to burst out of her chest with how adorable you look offering her the first bite.

whoever is watching no longer matters as she overwhelms you with kisses — cheeks, forehead, lips, neck?

"we're in public!" you shriek at her while visibly trying to contain your amusement, only making her want to kiss you even more.

"don't care, too in love to do anything else," she cackles while the vendor tries to avert their gaze, regretful of even admiring the necklace you had been wearing.

༄ kafka:

✣ the sun that her universe orbits around, along with the stars that surround its atmosphere. if there was one purpose truly given to her, more important than elio's script, she has zero doubts that it would be to love you until the cosmos light dies out. she often ponders aloud to you how she got gifted with the sweetest little angel, while the memories of all the events she manipulated in her favor to land you in her arms bounce around her head.

✣ if someone told kafka she was creating a spoiled brat out of you, she would simply sigh lovingly and agree. her darling should never yearn for anything in her mind. besides, what's the point of acting frugal when you're well aware of the bounty on her head? you could tell her flat out you're planning to drain her wallet dry ; all you're getting in response is a kiss on the forehead and her telling you to make sure you send pictures of everything you try on.

✣ while kafka does like a woman who can fight (and she especially likes if you fight her for fun), she does also take pride in protecting you. the life she lives is one far removing from any fairytale knight or charming prince, but there's something that makes your heart flutter even more when she drapes a priceless necklace around your neck, kissing up the tender skin of your nape, or how dull her eyes seem when blood blooms from the bullet hole she put in the skull of a man who was audacious enough to lay a hand on what's hers.

⁀➷

a woman of kafka's caliber normally wouldn't be found in a tawdry nightclub such as this, watching the young patrons flit around with no sense of commitment or self preservation. it would be a simple matter to slip something in any of their drinks to try and pry information out of them.

of course, that wasn't her reason for being here tonight. instead, she was indulging the playful nature of someone much more precious to her.

"you come here often, beautiful?"

speaking of, the slurred words of her darling reach her ears as she glances to the side and sees you barely holding yourself up against the bar counter, staring at her with flushed cheeks, glazed eyes and the most indiscreet grin she's ever seen in her life. she's thrilled you're just dating and not working for her. you'd be her worst asset (and favorite) by far.

"i can't say that i do," she answers with ease, sipping her drink and beckoning you closer with a curl of her fingers, "though my little dove likes to find her way here."

you stumble like a fatigued fawn, toppling into her lap while she wraps her arms around your waist and adjusts you to be comfortable. how charming you could be when you weren't even trying.

she tucks some of your hair behind your ear, watching intently at the changing expressions on your face. she could tell your addled brain was struggling to put her words together, no matter how simple they had come off.

your eyes go wide for a moment before you grab her and wail, "do you like girls?!" with such desperation the bartender raises an eyebrow in concern. kafka waves them off while trying to hide her own smile at your foolishness.

(really, she's foolish for allowing herself to be so enthralled with you.)

she leans closer to your ear, brushing her fingers under your chin to lift your head up and tell you, "i like one very special girl in particular."

the way you wriggle on her lap in response only fuels her desire even more, and when your woeful eyes make contact with hers, she's just about at her wit's end.

you can't even get your next question out before her lips are on yours, making you jump in surprise but latch onto her sleeve with barely any fight. you relax under her touch, trusting, docile, and she has half a mind to clear out the building just to have you in every way she can.

your grip goes slack, and she pulls away for a brief moment to tease how meek you are before blinking in confusion at the way your head hangs. parting your hair, a defeated smile graces her face as she realizes you've somehow managed to fall asleep in your drunken state.

aeons, you're lucky you're cute.

༄ ruan mei:

✣ you are, without question, the most prized pet in the entirety of ruan mei's lab. whether or not she's devoted to you is never something you're unsure of, because the truth of the matter is you're in her eyesight for most of the day, night, and too often in your dreams for it to be natural. you'd asked her once if she found a way to infiltrate them, and all she had done was brush you off and ask if you thought she'd became an aeon early. neither of you brought up the fact it wasn't a no.

✣ plum blossoms are now her second favorite scent, with the first being you coated in their fragrance. ruan mei can be quite touchy to begin with (though in a fairly clinical sense, since she's usually testing on you), and that doubles in moments of fervent desire. when an experiment goes just awry enough to throw off her plans, she'll take a moment to decompress in a navy leather chair, tugging you by your custom collar into her lap. while she would normally be against breaks, even she is a slave to the feeling of your pliant body against her own as she inhales the sweet aroma.

✣ there is one obvious yet unspoken rule that she had implied many times before you entered a relationship with her: your bodily autonomy becomes very, very minuscule. the downside to getting her attention is that most of it is on the scientific side, viewing you as an extremely adorable and submissive test subject. you've woken up to iv drips that change the reality you perceive, had drinks mixed with powders that leave your skin tingling for days, and she never seems apologetic for it. she always takes care of you after all, what is there to complain about? and if she happens to like the way you look, teary eyed and begging for her to help you, then that's a secret she'll keep to herself.

⁀➷ "open."

you comply with no resistance, bringing a pleased curve of the lips to ruan mei's face. a glowing aqua substance, slightly viscous in texture, is dropped onto your tongue. the hum of various machinery and ongoing scans echoes on the sterile walls of ruan mei's lab while you sit in her lap, back to her chest. she watches as a grimace quickly spreads across your features at the simultaneous bitter and sour taste and it causes a quiet chuckle to fall from her lips.

"remind me not to extend any poker invitations to you. your ability to hold a straight expression is rather abysmal, my love," she teases while questioning you about the more fine details regarding your reaction. an uncontrollable burst of sneezes, hiccups, and dizzy spells follows, and she gives you an antidote while documenting that the reaction on you is far different than the one on her creations. your wet eyes do little to deter her as a vial with sparkling pink liquid is held up next, with her soft promises of, "you'll enjoy this one."

you hesitate for a moment before obeying once more, much to her satisfaction. her eyes soften as she brushes her lips against your ears, murmuring, "good girl," and making sure you swallow every drop. the vial is discarded, less important than feeling your soft skin on her, for once, bare hands. her gaze is more attentive this time, eager for the moment your skin grows flushed and your eyes glaze over. you're panting like a dog, writhing in her lap, whining about being too hot before your ability to speak is lost to the hunger thrashing inside of you.

she'll make sure to document later: results as expected.

the door opens with a thunderous screech against the floor, startling you out of your own thoughts as phainon bounds in the room. he had left earlier to get you some "thinking drinks" as he calls them from the cafe a few buildings down, but in your self-inflicted anxiety you had mostly forgotten he was even coming back.

"sorry it took so long! they were out of the mango pineapple refresher at the campus one, so i went downtown to make sure i could get it for you," he says with a jovial tone while placing the drinks on the table, temporarily missing the funereal mood polluting the room. your silence is what attunes him to your tribulations and he makes his way to your side, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"talk to me, my love," he says, more reticent this time. the air is fragile, and phainon is willing to grant you the liberty to break it should you so desire.

the words get lost somewhere, because everything seems like nothing and you don't know where to start. things are half done because they rely on other projects you haven't finished yet, calls you haven't made, your professors asking more and more because they know just how capable you are and goodness, you don't want to disappoint anybody, do you?

phainon's eyes turn to your white board, intaking your incoherent scribbles and desperate pleas for a solution to present itself to you. there's so much here you hadn't even voiced being worried about, and he feels guilty for not ever thinking to check in. why didn't you ask him for any type of support?

"okay," he asserts while turning you to face him, decidedly not letting it go,"we're gonna solve this, alright? there's no reason you should be trying to do all of this on your own. i'm right here to help you."

"but you won't be next year," you concede, resting your head against his chest. "i'll be alone in this, and you'll be off somewhere being a real adult who's successful while your partner is still stuck worrying about how many science labs they have due next week and the budget for homecoming."

his eyes soften at the confession, and he kisses your nose while giving a humorless laugh. "how could you ever think you're alone in this? that just because i won't be here that i no longer care about your problems?" he asks while a pained expression briefly crosses his face. "i already have an excellent vice president lined up for you, i have binders of information i made, i hold every intention of being with you each step of the way, even if i can't be next to you at that moment."

his admission brings tears to your eyes and you pull him down for a kiss without thinking, slightly laughing at the way he instantaneously melts into it. when you part, he looks at you with hope in his eyes, questioning you, "are we good?"

"we're good," you smile, giving him another peck. "who's your shining star that's gonna put me to shame?

he looks comically betrayed at the notion of someone somehow outdoing you, causing some much needed genuine laughter. you knew he'd never try to shame you for the work you'd done for him the past few years, and truthfully, whoever was your replacement would be more of a downgrade than anything.

"nothing to worry about," he beams, squishing your cheeks between his palms. you blow raspberries at him in response, but he pays you no mind. "cerydra is extremely well learned and very reliable. she's be an incredible help."

the smile drops from your face at her name. while yes, she might be the most put together person you know and could probably run the whole council by herself, she's also the scariest nineteen year old you've ever met.

he takes notice of your worries and instead of being able to subdue them, even he knows trying to mitigate the extremes cerydra will go to for perfection is a task for naught. his expression morphs into something sympathetic, and you both have subjected yourself to the fate of the tyrant.

"… maybe i should come back next year."

༄ evernight:

the soft fairy lights of your dorm room flicker briefly as rain continues to hit the windows. your eyes briefly peek outside before landing back down on your girlfriend as she lays patiently beneath you while you sit on her waist. so pliant and eager to be used, you can't help but kiss the tip of her nose while she gazes lovingly at you.

while you originally had lured her in by "begging" for a beautiful girl to help with your doomed chemistry endeavors, your study session went off the rails no more than five minutes in due to the inability you both held to keep your hands off one another.

"guess you can't head back across campus to your dorm," you say with faux sympathy, dusting off your brush from doing evernight's eyeshadow. her hands deliberately glissade up and down the sides of your waist, their freezing temperature making you shiver in a way you find yourself enjoying.

she simply chuckles at you, staring up with love in her eyes, "truthfully, i can't say i was planning to," she admits, though you wouldn't have let her go without some guilt-tripping and she wouldn't have tried to fight at all. "i like my place here far too much to discard the opportunity."

digging for your colored liners, her words nearly make you stop. she'd always been content with being your shadow, following along, taking orders with too much eagerness. she'd never let you stray from her sight, yet refused to be the more attention grabbing of you two. you'd dragged her into corners and backrooms endless amounts of times to have your way with her, the sight of her flushed pink face despite her willingness being a sight you'd never grow tired of.

it made your heart pound more than you'd like to admit.

leisurely, you grind your hips against hers, relishing the way her words lodge in her throat and are quickly bypassed by a pathetic bleat. a snicker escapes you at how for such a genius, she turns into a simple mess every time you're around.

"you're mean," she sighs as you hold two different shades of eyeliner up to her face, squinting to try and imagine how they'd look. you shrug at her words with indifference written on your face. she's fun to tease, after all. besides, if you were any nicer she'd find it boring.

"the purple," you conclude and toss the other shade aside. leaning down, you swiftly give her a peck while opening the cap. she has other plans though, tightening her grasp on your waist before you can apply anything to her glittered eyelids. she tugs you back down for another kiss, losing herself instantaneously in the unmitigated desire that you inflict onto her. her tongue slides into your mouth with little struggle, causing her to faintly moan and squeeze you even harder.

you whine at how aggressive she's becoming, reminding her, "don't smudge anything, i worked hard." your words are muffled against her lips, but they wouldn't have been effective even had you tattooed them to her eyes. she turns you onto your back, breaking the kiss with a hint of displeasure at her own actions.

with a touch you must assume is reserved for angels, her palm ghosts your stomach while sliding your shirt up to your sternum. cold lips caress down your skin while your finger entangled themselves in pink strands, gripping tighter the further down she moves.

her nails lights scratch your hips as she begins to slide your sleep shorts down. her other hand fumbles around the bed for the purple liner that must've slipped from your grasp earlier — unsurprising, considering the current state of your mind. the cap rolls from the bed when she tears it off. an icy liquid glides across your lower abdomen, and you recognizing the familiar strokes of evernight's elegant script. the letters form in your brain when they trace onto your skin.

"so that everyone, all those friends of yours, anyone with an impure gaze," she murmurs as the final cross of a t completes her goal, "know just who's leash you hold."

e-v-e-r-n-i-g-h-t.

her nose nuzzles the inside of your thigh as you heavily breath out her name, closing your eyes for a moment before finishes pulling down your shorts to get your attention again.

"my darling, all mine," she chants breathlessly before resting her face between your legs.

he makes small noise of disapproval in his throat and you can see his fingers twitch restlessly. he does this every time you have to remind him that it's his choice not to sleep with other people, but not your choice to do the same.

you never once led him on, so why he seems to keep feeding himself these delusions of something more going on between you both is completely beyond you. while you promised you'd always be as safe as possible and get tested often, you thought he understood clearly that you had zero plans for a committed relationship.

"he wouldn't treat you well," xavier says after a few moments of silence, very clearly choosing not to acknowledge your previous statement.

you can't even pretend that this is funny anymore. the last six people you've tried to have over all ended up in similar situations. last weeks date ended up locked out on your fire escape while you were in the bathroom, making you think he has suddenly dipped. the girl before him somehow got food poisoning right as your clothes were coming off. again and again, it had seemed like divine intervention to both you and xavier – who had said that maybe it was a "sign you started dating someone," before clarifying he meant someone you knew, and maybe lived really close to you, and you saw often, and you were already sleeping with.

a true mystery on who he could be talking about.

this time though, it seemed like he grew sick of calculated planning. xavier instead had quite literally shown up in the middle of your living room with his sword brushing again your date's neck, letting the blood beginning to trickle down his jugular serve as a rough indicator as to what would happen if he even thought about you in an impure way.

the rest was a blur until this moment, where the daggers you're glaring at him are making him visibly uncomfortable. you both know the one thing the won't say is that he's sorry, because he really isn't ; which is why you find your next words drifting without thinking about the full implication behind them.

"then it's probably best that we don't see each other any more if you're that worried about my dating life."

you've never seen xavier panic a day in his life, and you supposed you still haven't, because panic is not an apt word for the indescribable anguish that takes over his person. the air pressure in the room seems to grow lower in the milliseconds it takes for him to be pressed against your chest. his hands wrap around your wrists so lose that it can barely be called a restraint, yet the force of his emotions keeps you pinned in spite of what any reason might tell you.

"you don't mean that," he says slightly too fast for what you've come to expect from him. the tone is off, unsure. he's trying to convince himself that you'd never break his heart in such a ruthless manner, not the one person who'd offer it willingly to you carved whole from his chest, but you both know all signs are pointing and laughing right in his face.

he needs you so much more than you could ever need him.