May 25, 2022
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
When Jon lands in the hall, it’s overstimulation at its very best; rushing waves and immateria flooding her lungs and the bright blue sting of instability still pulsating on her shoulder, dead or not. She is tired, more tired than she’s maybe ever been in her very long life. Collapsing down onto her knees, and then all the way, she thinks she could just fall asleep right here.
(Will she even be granted the dignity of that anymore? Or is she now robbed of yet another of life’s simplest pleasures– of her misshapen dreams?)
-
wrote about jon and luis for @sanscena as part of @crabsficexchange and now i love them (1k words)
