9 Works by oaksy
Listing Works
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A Tevinter traditional marriage proposal is a mysterious affair. Meant to elevate the last days apart before a life spent together, it is a process both rigidly sanctified and tailored to every couple. Central to its design is a fancified game of hide-and-seek, an emphasis on the places where the other is not, to make reuniting all the sweeter.
Lucanis has planned meticulously. Too bad his lover is a detective.
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Mostima seems to have made it her mission to get everyone under the mistletoe this year. Not that Fiammetta gives a shit.
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Lucanis has a crush.
Despite his best efforts, it soon becomes everybody's problem.
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Like a stray on a fincatcher's hook. Qiubai is reeled in.
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Sauin. That sanctioned time for release. A day where anything and everything seems possible. A night outside of normal time.
On one cold Sauin night Fiammetta and Mostima find warmth in one another, and it turns into a decade-spanning yearly habit. Outside of the holiday their time together is never acknowledged, the status quo preserved despite the time spent in liminal space. But this peace is fragile, untenable, and ultimately doomed.
Ten years of encounters, coming to a head.
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“The thing is,” she says, her voice barely audible, right next to Fiammetta’s ear, “I can feel it coming. Soon. That’s also why I’m not frantic like you right now. I think it’s too late, Fiammetta. You have to let me go.”
“I won’t.” Her hands spasm where they grip Mostima’s arms around her waist.
“As long as you remember, you won’t,” Mostima murmurs, her quiet words the sharpest of knives. “But you won’t remember for long. You won’t even miss me.”
In the aftermath of a dangerous Arts conflict, Mostima begins to disappear. Flickering in and out of the world, her very existence becomes a question. And it's not only her physical presence.
No one remembers her. Except Fiammetta.
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pumpkin soup, and other methods of worship by oaksy
Fandoms: 明日方舟 | Arknights (Video Game)
27 Jul 2024
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Perhaps a normal person would feel concerned, distressed, even, at the sight of their charge — and, well, more than that — visibly ill, but Kjarr is mostly thinking of how those pink cheeks would look if she squished them together.
“Thank you for making the journey up Mount Karlan,” Enya is saying, “By Kjeragandr's generosity, you are welcome in— ah— achoo!”
Kjarr quietly takes a deep breath, and exhales slowly. She must. Not. Laugh.
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Columbia is a country where executives are celebrities.
The paparazzi and their tabloids hover around Saria like vultures, waiting to snatch the scraps of her private dealings.
And they have their work cut out for them, for Saria's personal life has never been so busy.( Post Lone Trail. )
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“I just knew…” Mostima looks a bit dazed herself, and she reaches out her hands, to hover around Fiammetta's head, almost touching her crest. “That you felt like mine.”
“Yours?” Fiammetta cries, jerking away from her. She feels her face flush in something like anger. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? Your what? Your thrall?”
When the Lock and Key call Mostima to an ancient Kazdelian ruin, Fiammetta follows. The encounter leaves the two permanently bonded to one another, their souls intertwined for better or worse.