#except Ayla

[the-east-art]

Trying to figure out a design for Ayla that I don’t hate. I’ll probably do something else with her hair since Marle has a ponytail.

[magicalgirlypop]

i'm usually not a fan of the fantasy racism trope but i think the way they did it in marionetta was better than most because the ah'kon aren't portrayed as evil. they didn't do anything previously that would get them branded as evil. its all the kalgratt government's propaganda that they're dangerous and none of them sre innocent, not even the children (sounds familiar?). and its obviously meant to parallel how certain groups were genocided in real life.

[tiixij]

Popping in just to say it's such a good thing for my little fictional universe that the gods don't actually have the scope of power gods usually have because they are NOT good decisions makers . Like I think Ayla might have caused the sixth mass extinction event if she was given any more power than she already had

Also little chart of some of the characters for this story under the cut

[shepherds-of-haven]

The Shepherds are having a bake sale! What kind of baked goods are they bringing, and how successful are they at selling?

Blade: he baked "protein bars" and they're just like bricks of smushed granola or nuts or whatever he could get away with grinding up and putting in there. No one would buy these except dedicated fans wanting to impress him lol

Trouble: he made bread!! Just loaves of plain bread. He didn't know how to do it before and learned just for this bake sale and they're actually pretty decent! They'd sell fairly well for a bake sale, no one's writing home about how he's a master baker, but they'll do for your week's groceries!

Tallys: she'd also probably do bread as well, but glazed Elvish braided loaves, some with sweet fillings like nuts and cinnamon and fruit pastes, and some with savory fillings like nutty cheese and herbs! These would be a best-seller!

Shery: she'd make sooo many things: plates of soft amaretto cookies, lemon squares, brownies, cupcakes, big cakes, macarons!!! Basically anything she could feasibly bake in a short amount of time, she'd do it lol! And they'd be the talk of the whole bake sale, she'd probably single-handedly carry the whole sale alone!!!

Riel: he'll... he'll buy some petits fours from some other bakery and sell them at a small profit margin 😭

Chase: he'll be Shery's frontman to help her sell her goods lmao, but I highly doubt he's going to bring anything 😂 (and if he does, I don't know if enough people trust him to buy)

Red: he'd probably put his mind to it and make something simple like bread or gingerbread cookies or something like that! Something unfussy, but they'd taste pretty good! They'd sell about the same as Trouble's stuff!

Ayla: she'd try to make scones and they'd be hard as rocks! Trouble and Chase would call them "Ayla's rockcakes" and probably use them to pelt each other with (with her permission, obviously) and she'd laugh and probably sell them as like the perfect non-winter snowball or something... basically not fit for consumption but more like a novelty or a toy!

Briony: she tried to make cookies, which she was told were easier to make then cakes! She'd try to make them all cute and aesthetic like Shery's, but they'd be a little misshapen and amateur and a bit craggy... She'd sell enough to make her happy, but a lot of it would be because people like and pity her LOL, they'd probably promptly donate what they bought to like a less fortunate neighbor or an undiscerning kid or something!

Lavinet: ...she'd try. poor girl has no frame of reference when it comes to working in the kitchen--surely a flan is the same difficulty level as a cake, no?--so she'd probably end up inadvertently picking something extremely complex because she always thought it looked simple, like a mirror glazed cake or eclairs or something like that, and end up with a horrible claggy gloopy mess! And then she'd cry (privately) and then have a stand selling her fashionable cast-offs or something instead!

Halek: he'd probably be the pie guy because it'd allow him to experiment with a ton of different fillings! Savory meat pies, pot pies, shepherds' pies (ha ha), but also fancy fruit pies, rose apple tarts, maybe even quiches, that sort of thing! He'd be the other best-seller alongside Shery!

Thanks for the fun question!

[delulupop]

“Hello darling..”

-

-

Little baby Ayla and Dadstarion 😭💗

I was totally sobbing while making this.

-

-

I love the headcanon that he hates all kids except his own. Very Astarion coded

[toodelusionalforreality]

Azriel x OC | Chapter 7

Sinner

Both his brothers are mated. Both his brothers are happily in love. But after five centuries of rejection, Azriel doesn’t hope for such luxury in his life. When he meets the bar owner who is too mysterious even for the spymaster to decipher, his intrigue turns into more. Lines between mystery and secret blur. The closer he gets to her, the more his instincts warn him to stay away.

Previous Chapter: History

Word count: ~3.1k Warning: Mild NSFW, 18+, m!pleasure [PLOT]

A/N: This is an experimental piece of work. I'm testing a writing style, so feedback is welcome. (This is for the two kind souls who responded to my ask. It's not much but I tried y'all)

It’s a joke. Staring down at the closed door, Azriel reassured himself. 

Spying on his mate was never his intention. But Raya had stolen Ayla away before he could ask what she meant. If that wasn’t torment enough, he was invited into the bar only in the company of others. So now, like a lurker, he waited for hours on the rooftop of the inn across from Pharus. Azriel was beginning to truly hate the bartender. 

Ayla was his mate. It shouldn’t be a crime to want a moment alone with her, nor should he need to hide in the shadows afraid of her chaperones. From his family to Orvin to Raya, everyone seemed eager to decide his fate with her. Everyone except his mate, who was content playing oblivious to the bond between them.

Patrons walked in and out of Pharus without restriction and anger coiled in his gut. Until he saw her heading towards him—no, her home. She walked the long way back from the smithy, stopping at the warm-lit bakery and offering a pastry to the boy skipping up and down the street who in return handed her something that looked suspiciously like a pebble. 

Azriel knew it was the moment he had been waiting for. Yet, his body refused to move. Even his shadows that called for her day and night fell quiet and clung to his shoulders. Helpless, he watched Ayla round the brick building and disappear through the backdoor. 

The house remained in the dark though a silhouette floated beyond the white veil framing the balcony. It grew darker and darker. . .and collapsed onto the bed. 

A soft chuckle escaped him.

Then, he came around—tanned skin and stark hair and all muscles. Had he entered through the front, he was merely a regular to the bar. But faelight flickered to life upstairs. One silhouette met with the other and they shuffled around together. When they almost merged into one, Azriel turned away. He slumped to the floor and watched the sun slowly descend behind the mountains, then, the sky turn a deep red to violet to black.

Five hours later, the male left in the dead of the night, as tidy and proper as when he had walked in. But it was his satisfied grin that irked Azriel.

.

Though he stayed away from Pharus and the inn and the alley, his shadows didn’t. Until they sought Ayla on their own, he hadn’t known they could split away from him. They had always been a part of him—an extension. Most nights, they returned shortly with a faint buzz and whispered Alone in his ears. On other nights, they stayed with her longer. When they reappeared, they skittered in a corner refusing to come near him, and they were quiet—eerily quiet.

‘Angry with me again?’ he would ask.

The shadows would freeze in the air, tendrils poised high and darkness rippling, enough to send a chill down his spine as if the void glared at him.

‘I warned you,’ he would tease, though deep down, their silence sliced through his heart.

Usually, this ended with them smothering him or abandoning him as he lay awake in bed, wondering if Ayla was truly with someone else.

That night, when his shadows left him again, Azriel pulled a bottle out of the dresser beside his bed. Pale linen squares peeked from under his folded leathers and he slammed the drawer shut. Enclosed within the sachets was a blend of herbs and spices that smelled close to the scent lingering around Ayla. 

Knowing he had traversed the lands and collected each one himself only made him feel pathetic and desperate. Even Rhys didn’t know the reasons for the delay in his last missions.

Azriel took a sip straight from the bottle and let his senses accustom to the horrid taste. 

Since his banning, Uri supplied him with their brew every two weeks, although he wouldn’t admit to guilting the poor male. None of their customers preferred it and the server was thrilled to please the only one who appreciated his craft. It still tasted wretched. But the familiar fragrance took Azriel back to that evening and the memories it held were sweeter.

A glass thumped on the lonely book on top of the dresser, a subtle reminder he wasn’t truly alone. Wariness crawled up his spine. He knew better than anyone what it felt to be watched. Unlike his brothers and Mor, he never preferred the house’s magic. And with its recent sentience, its presence overwhelmed him. It saw everything, it heard everything.

His skin still prickled but the book pulled his attention, its binding simple and unsuspecting. Azriel was very aware of its content. Yet, he picked it up and settled into the bed. As he flipped through the pages, a sigh escaped him.

What started as indulging Nesta to ease her into their circle turned into a monthly ritual. A romance written by a female couldn’t be worse than the drag Cassian cherished. 

But Azriel realised his mistake the day he joined Nesta in the library. While he read her favourite book, her fiery eyes flicked to him at every page turn. Even his shadows sheathing him to cool his skin wasn’t enough to tame his breaths, and Nesta snickered, ‘Having trouble reading?’

Oh, these women had better restraint than him. Thankfully, his friend delighted in these readings alone with her Valkriyes, and his discomfort was not a public spectacle.

However, when he admitted to enjoying the book, her eyes lit up, and her smiles came easy. Thus began their private tradition—Nesta picked a book for them, and once he finished, he listened to her talk about her favourite bits.

Lately, he had been missing more of these conversations, and he hated it. Azriel was failing as a mate; he would, at the least, secure his standing as a good friend.

Crisp air breezed through the windows carrying omens of changing seasons. And with it, crept in his ‘companions’ as Ayla called them. They wavered by the window as if waiting for a sign to leave again.

Despite the dying flames in the fireplace and the cold air, his skin began to warm. Azriel removed his shirt and tossed it across the room. His wings stretched and folded over once as he rolled his shoulders. Bringing his focus back to the book, he leaned against the headboard.

Darkness twitched in the corner of his eyes. Azriel merely took another sip, and they guttered out.

Were his shadows with her again? Would they go too far without him and expose themselves? Would she know, and if she did, would she blame him? Sometimes, he wished he lacked conscience like them. He would seek Ayla without guilt too, no matter what she did, who she did. 

A groan left his lips. Thinking of her was the last thing Azriel wanted to do. Her eyes burning with challenge as she uttered those sinful words. Seven. Ayla was choosing to be with seven males before she accepted him.

Would she though—accept him, or would she discard him after a night’s company?

No. Azriel was her mate, and soon, she would realise it. And this, this was only a game. She was taunting him for leaving after their kiss. She was punishing him for the ones he touched instead of her.

But, Ayla had known about Mor. Maybe, she was punishing him for Mor.

Azriel exhaled deeply and reached for the drink again. The burn numbed his senses and the ache in his chest. He flipped the page, careful of his wandering thoughts as he read the detailed rendering of an. . .intimate exchange. A strange sensation bloomed in the pit of his stomach. 

His eyes were on the page, but his mind trudged behind. With every word, the vision grew clearer and clearer—a male, a female, a whole lot of naked—and he hated the faces he saw. 

Casting the book aside, he took a sharp breath. His fingers traced aimless circles over his heart and they stuck to his skin. Blood pounded in his ears.

A carnal need pulsed between his legs begging him for the one he yearned for. Gods, it was a mess. His mate was fucking another male and his body craved her.

It started as a speck in his chest, the urge, something he could suppress. With each beat of his heart, it rippled and flared through every nerve in his body, demanding to be felt, to be satiated, to be released. A moan escaped his lips, soft and low.

His hand trailed lower and Azriel pressed his fingers into his stomach. Even the pain of his nails clawing into him morphed into pleasure, dark and twisted, coaxing him to give in.

‘Please,’ the word uttered between broken breaths. ‘Not tonight.’ Not when he knew she was with someone else. Not when he knew she wouldn’t be thinking of him.

The gold string of the bond felt like a barbed wire around his heart. Azriel yielded. What was he but a mere man.

As his fingers smoothed over his crotch, his breath caught in his throat. The slightest graze of the fabric against him when he inched his pants low had his hips jerking. He closed his hand over the tip and a shudder coursed through him.

He intended to stop there.

His other hand remained on his chest, where the only connection to her in this world lay. His heart drummed under his fingers, steady and rhythmic, yet, he felt another racing beneath it—an illusion of his mind. Or perhaps the effects of the drink.

Azriel closed his eyes.

Her intense gaze peered back.

She stood at the foot of his bed. In the moonlight, he could see the smooth curves of her body under the shirt that caressed her bare legs as she walked over to his side. She sank beside him, nuzzling against him. A gentle smile curled her lips, as red and swollen as when they fell prey to his own. And her eyes hinted mischief.

There was no escape from the one who haunted him in life and dreams alike.

‘Were you thinking of me?’ She asked, her voice breaking into little laughs. 

Azriel hummed.

His grip tightened as the guilt did around his heart. Ayla was a gift from Mother herself. And he was sullying her existence, reducing her to one of his fantasies. He sucked in a breath.

‘Let me see you,’ she whispered as her eyes made a cautious descent down his body.

He let go with a hiss. ‘Do you see what you do to me?’

She blinked slowly and trailed her fingers down his bare arm, upto his wrist before making her way back up. ‘But isn’t this what you wanted?’ Her lips feathered against his cheek, ‘Touch yourself for me. Properly.’

Azriel obeyed. Pleasure shot through his veins ripping a gasp from his throat as he wrapped his hand around his cock. He rubbed himself slowly, teasing and torturing.

‘You know,’ her breaths echoed in his ear, ‘I dream of you too.’

He chuckled, ‘Liar.’

‘I do,’ she whined looking into his eyes. Moonlight flickered in hers and somehow it deepened her gaze. ‘Did you think I’d forget our kiss?’ She drew closer, stopping a breath away from his lips, ghosting her thumb over them. ‘I think of it every day,’ her voice lilted, ‘and night.’ 

When he leaned in, she turned away, instead nestling against his shoulder. ‘I wait for you, hoping you’d come for me.’

She did. She lingered in the bar often and worked until Raya and Uri took over. She was a masochist like him, longing to relive a moment so gone in the past.

‘And what would you do if I came for you?’ he croaked out. Her fingers moved to his torso carving a path onto his abdomen, so close to where he needed her. The cold breeze raked over his skin, but it was her nails that drew the shiver out of him.

Ayla looked up at him. ‘What do you think?’ She shot a glance at his hand moving steadily along his hardness and smiled. ‘Definitely better than what you’re doing.’

Azriel laughed at her arrogance. Although, he suspected a mere touch from her would be his unravelling. ‘I’m holding back,’ he said, reaching for her face, ‘I want to keep you for a while.’

Her fingers crossed the threshold past his hips and caressed the back of his marred hand while her eyes distracted him from her vicious deeds.

‘I’m not going anywhere,’ she murmured as her hand closed over his, guiding him. She shifted close, her body pressing against his arm, her leg draping over his. ‘I dreamt of feeling you like this. In my hand, on my lips.’

Azriel pressed his fingers to her mouth, feeling their softness and warmth as they trembled. No, not her lips—delicate as a flower, they were only worthy of kisses and praises, he decided.

Her breaths grew heavy, chasing his own and drowning the crackling of fire. ‘Please.’

It’s she who chose other males over him.

‘You want this?’ Ayla nodded at once. ‘Then why are you with him now?’

A sound escaped her, like a whimper. ‘You know why.’

Azriel hummed. ‘Tell me,’ he taunted still, ‘Is he enough?’

She buried her face in the crook of his neck. Her words skittered over his skin as she spoke weakly, ‘You know I only want you.’

Even in his dreams, she dodged his questions. Azriel gripped her chin and coaxed her to look at him again. ‘But you’d fuck anyone who walks through your door.’

Ayla laughed, her hand slackening over his. ‘You’re the one allowing it.’

She pulled away. Her shirt no longer tugged against him deliciously, her toe no longer traced his leg, and he no longer felt her heat.

Azriel held a hand out, the one that caressed her face. ‘Come here.’

Ayla shook her head. 

‘I thought you wanted me.’

Her face crumbled and she lurched towards him, her body flush against his again. Azriel sighed. 

‘You know they wouldn’t be the one with me now if you’d just take me.’ Her eyes bore into his, almost pleading. She ripped his hand away and grasped his cock—her smooth, soft skin such contrast to his scarred one.

His head fell back as he gasped a silent moan.

She pressed a kiss to his cheek, tearing his attention from the pleasure radiating through him. ‘One night, please,’ she fisted him, deliberate but firm—just enough to take him to the precipice, ‘Let me prove it to you.’

Her heart raced in tandem to his. Her cheeks flushed. Her hair swayed with their mingled breaths and stuck to his skin.

Ayla licked her lips and almost his too. Her eyes fluttered when she spoke, ‘Don’t you—don’t you want me?’

The way her voice cracked broke his heart. Azriel caressed her face and pulled her closer. ‘I do,’ he said, ‘more than anyone in my life. It hurts to be away from you.’

She drew in a quick breath. ‘Then why do you deny me?’ 

Ayla wasn’t twisted like him. She was pure for she touched his skin without perversion and kind for she didn’t judge him for what he’d done. She wouldn’t torment him if she knew the truth of who she was.

Then, why did he stay away?

Before he could find the answer himself, Ayla racked her nails along his length. Azriel sucked a breath through his teeth.

‘You’re a tease,’ she grinned as though she were innocent, ‘making a poor woman wait.’

When she punished him with her grip, he grunted, ‘I’m sure it’s hard for you,’ earning a laugh from her.

Ayla kissed his cheek once, twice, thrice, trailing lower each time. She licked the corner of his lips, ‘You taste good.’ She did it again and under his jaw. ‘You taste this good everywhere?’

‘Gods.’ Azriel laughed, and then groaned as her mouth made its descent down his chest. He pulled her face back to his. ‘I can’t let you do that.’

Guilt flooded him at the sight of her lust-stained face, a travesty of his sinister dreams, dragging him from the pleasure that threatened to consume him.

‘I need you,’ her voice wavered. Azriel shivered. ‘How shall I prove it to you?’

‘No,’ he rasped, brushing his thumb over her cheek. He had even perverted her thoughts. ‘You never have to prove anything to me. When this is over, I’ll make you mine.’

Her movements ceased and her eyes hooded. A sigh left her lips, then a series of whispered yeses. His cock throbbed and she took charge again, stroking him faster and determined. 

‘Let me have this,’ she said, ‘Let me feel you tonight.’

Her hands drove him to the edge but it was her words that destroyed him. Shocks of pleasure went through him, one after the other. 

With their breaths still echoing in his ears, Ayla brought her hand to his chin. Her wet fingers, drenched in his essence, grazed under his lip. ‘Come to me, Az. Isn’t it your turn now?’

Azriel opened his eyes. Pages rustled in the breeze. His shirt lay rumpled on the floor beside the fireplace, with only the embers to hint at the fire long dead. Moonlight bathed his empty room.

His messy hand rested below his chest, where the desire and rush ebbed away, slowly baring him as shame began to corrode him. Once his heart settled, he tried to cleanse the filth residing in him with a cold shower. He knew it wasn’t enough.

Shadows danced outside the window when Azriel returned. He placed the culprit back on the dresser and folded his discarded shirt over the armchair. He picked up the bottle and liquor sloshed at its bottom as he strolled over to the window. He needed to visit Uri soon.

Velaris was a beauty to behold at night. From the mountains, it was more so. Lights glittered in every corner of the city like stars on land—each one a promise of life and future. Right in the middle of it was her house, a smidge somewhere in the vibrant square alive with music and laughter. 

Water dripped down his back, yet heat lingered under his skin. 

A tendril curled over his ear. Alone, it sang while another added, Asleep. Azriel heaved a sigh. Ayla was safe. Satisfied, his shadows draped over his shoulders returning to their home.

He took a sip and a smirk pulled at his lips. ‘Kiss her for me.’

There was stillness for a moment, then, the invisible weight lifted.

What harm could one more sin bring to a sinner?

Next Chapter: Vice

[shokosbunny]

CRAVE - chapter two

nav 𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧₊˚

masterlist 𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧₊˚ • previous 𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧₊˚

chapter warnings: use of profanity, age gap

the encounter with you at the club has yuta so fucked up.

seriously. who drops the ‘i have a man’ line just before kissing someone? if anything, that just means you’re being loyal out of obligation, because if you were really about loyalty, you would’ve told him you were taken before he started giving you bedroom eyes.

he simply takes this as a sign that you’re available, but reluctant to let go. but obviously, since he’s a good person, he decides the morning after to take it to his friends with varying levels of questionable morality, so they can validate his decision.

that revelation doesn't leave yuta’s mind for ages. nineteen and twenty-six? now, that was fucked up, considering that if he put things into perspective, your geriatric sugar daddy adjacent was legally drinking at clubs while you were just entering the double digits.

yikes.

but alas, it’s none of his business. you established a boundary, and it's his job to respect it until you explicitly indicate otherwise.

if he ever gets the chance to interact with you again, that is. megumi told him about your boyfriend’s jealous tendencies, and he would much prefer it if he wasn’t put in the hospital for something permanent at twenty years of age.

that night had you equally fucked up, for various reasons.

one being that you almost cheated on your boyfriend of a year. another being that you don't feel as bad about it as you probably should.

the worst reason of all being that the moment rewound and replayed itself in your dreams that night. except in your dreams, you actually get to feel his lips on yours.

blinking away the thought, you rummage your tangled duvet for your phone, opening your group chat immediately. nobara and maki probably went out to get coffee and left you to sleep, which you don't mind because it's too early and your head hurts way too much for third wheeling to even be fathomable right now,

you sigh and lie back down. you hate disappointing maki. it stings so much more. but deep down, you know she's right.

there's no reason to stay with this man. you don't live together, you aren't married, you don't have kids. if a close friend told you they were in your exact situation, you'd tell them to run for the hills in a heartbeat. so why can't you?

whatever, you sigh internally. you'll keep him blocked while you contemplate.

next 𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧₊˚

tags: @toniseweje @tsukuhoe @itsafairytalekay @ayla-1605 @moncher-ire @rikaroses @starrysho @blu3-l0v3r @number0netrash

[lethica-nightborne]

*The next time Lethica is walking through the halls of the Lune she sees Ayla tangled in a ball of yarn she seems to be okay except for a small couple of scratches and bruises, but all that considered she is home, she is safe, and finally? She's with her mother once again* - @ayla-the-little-cat-spirit

*Lethica steps out of Marius and Jericho's room with a heavy sigh. She doesn't want to go far, but the tension in the room was stifling- and the way Jericho talked about himself made her want to to cry. It's then when she spots Ayla*

Oh, my little moon beam. Where have you been?

*She kneels to scoop her up, and begins untangling the yarn*

[pruneunfair]

Ranking OI maids.

23: Dobiella (The villainess maker)

The 20 people in the villainess maker fanbase have already agreed this girl is literally just Dobby as a anime girl from the way she speaks to the fact that their names sound similar. Most maids in OI tend to follow 2 personality traits: either they devoted to the point of nearly being husks or they are mean bullies who pick on their boss. Dobiella though... she takes that to a whole new level, girly isn't even a person she literally needs a purpose to live, even Ayla is creeper out by it, That hairstyle she has is wack too.

22: Lina (the tyrants perfumer)

Similar to Dobiella except it's not to such a concerning degree. She's a decent character but the bar is already quite low given how the characters are simple in TTOP.

21: Ellie (50 tea recipes of the Duchess)

Her design is cute I won't lie, braids and glasses are a classic ill always be a sucker for. But again, she's really not much other than a shy follower to Chloe ready to defend her. Won't change the fact she's still my favorite character in 50 tea recipes of the Duchess.

20: Ruby's maid (how to get my husband on my side)

I honestly cannot remember her name 😞 I can't remember which chapter she debuts in so I kinda just gave up on looking. anyway when it comes to personality she's still a tad dull but she's still got more than the last 3. The design is pretty meh but I can't fault her too much, she was pretty nice for all the times I remember her on screen.

19: Emily (actually I was the real one)

on one she really annoys me for some reason, probably cause she comes across as a real suck up but on the other hand, I can understand her desires for fancy clothes and materials.

18: Mina (Actually I was the real one)

Cosettes maid she had for like.. 5 chapters. I know a lot of people hate her for talking smack about Keira and not being grateful enough but the girl was also a homeless woman with her little brother. Cosette used Mina as a tool for her goals and let her get deported when everything went wrong during the rite arc. Remember the main reason Mina did what she did was because Cosette was using her brother's comfort and safety as leverage.

17: Annie (The villainess turns the hourglass)

Again, can't blame a maid for wanting a little more in life, with that being said it feels a tad weird whenever she acts like a pet whenever Aria offers her gold. Don't really like the fact that she also covered up Annie's freckles, let the Freckles be seen! 😤

16: Urania (From maid to queen)

Her rank might go up or down in the future since I've just started reading maid to queen but I liked the idea of a protagonist who could actually be selfish instead of perfectly kind or badass. Urania gets way too much hate so far in my opinion because she's actually more realistic and the only thing I'm concerned about is that she might become too stupid in her goal to return as a concubine since it's how she died in the first timeline.

15: Rose (Actually I was the real one)

The most iconic it Keiras maids. I preferred her first appearances more but for a maid with another personality dedicated to Keira but she's not as annoying as Emily and shows up more often than Mina. I do like her but there are better ones.

14: Emma (the villainess turns the hourglass)

out of all the evil maids Emma was one of the first who at least did it in a way that wasn't just tampering with food. She was a noble who lost her wealth and suffered a miscarriage so it did explain why a maid would be classist and raise Mielle with a superiority complex. Not bad for a side villain.

13: Anna (Not your typical reincarnation story)

I didn't really care about out her at first, she had a lot of Kuu dere traits and for a while she felt like a robot, thankfully she develops little by little as time went on and I love her for it.

12: Jessie (the villainess turns the hourglass)

Homegirl was just trying to do her job and I love her for it. After what Aria put her through in the first timeline she deserves that extra compensation.

11: The head maid (How to get my husband on my side)

Does this woman even have a name? 💀 I may have said braids+glasses were one of my favorite designs for maids but it's only 2nd to the experienced and almost muscular like designs. Beyond that her personality legit makes sense. She is universally hated for not accepting Ruby and while i do think attacking her for no reason is stupid it makes sense that's she not gonna immediately trust a stranger when she has people like Ellen to take care of. Speaking of that the relationship Ellen had with the head maid for as little of it that is seen is still very wholesome. We love our older ladies.

10: Emily..again (Death is the only ending for the villainess)

Probably the most iconic of OI maids and of course I like Emily but I do wish she had a little more to do with the plot, not bad but there are better ones.

9: Granna (Handmade tales of the handmaid)

Another maid protagonist but her concept is actually unique, a old woman who passed away of natural causes unexpectedly transmigrated as a 15 year old maid and with her experience cleans the mansion she works for with ease. The story is so far amazing and Granna mentally being an old woman instead of a ordinary office worker gets her extra points.

8: Lilian (who made me a princess)

Give this woman a raise Claude! That woman did so much for Athy I still consider her the one true parent to the kid.

7: Delice (Remarried empress)

Delice may only be remembered for being mutilated by Rashta but she still holds a special place in my heart. I felt so bad for her when her brother just told her nothing was wrong when Rashta was growing unstable and next thing you know during her next shift she gets framed and tortured 😢. Rashta I love you but not cool girl! In another universe Delice got to be spared and run away to start a little flower garden or a toy store with her dream husband.

6: Sancha (Sister I will be the queen in this life)

This little cutie deserves more than what she got. Don't get me wrong the story treats her pretty well when it comes to her new life and Ariande as a friend but at the same time.. I kinda think she exists to be the token homeless girl for Ariande to bring in to look better, she doesn't do much outside of cheer her lady on and I don't really care for her love interest that much. However I have noticed that Sancha is usually at her best when she's away from Ariande meaning she does more then be a cheerleader. Her moments of refusing to forgive Malleta were her best moments for her character. Speaking of which..

5: Malleta (Sister I will be the queen in this life)

one of my most favorite problematic queens though that's not saying much considering most of my favorite characters are toxic women. First of all: the character design, Sancha looks cute and all but she has the same super cute petite and youthful look most OI maids have. I know it's just because SITQITL puts non conventionally attractive characters as villains with exception of Ceasre and Isabella but I still love that Malleta stands out with a plus sized body, freckles, and narrow eyes instead of doe eyes. Her personality while admittedly trashy is still so entertaining given how delulu she can be. Personally I wish there were scenes where she and Isabella would just be gossip girls and talk shit about all Isabellas enemies. God why did she have to die so soon 😔

4: Chuchu (isn't being a maid better than being a princess?)

Pay no attention to the fact that she shares a name with a LOZ monster. Like I said my favorite kinds of maids are the muscular types who could carry a an entire table which is why Chuchu is one the greats. She's a total gentle giant and I'm so glad the series didn't kick her out completely when the FL moved on.

3: Helena (kill the villainess)

Im gonna throw hands with Helena haters cause what did she even do!? She made mistakes and was willing to apologize and make up for them and that still wasn't enough. Istg internalized misogyny did her dirty I tell you. As the 2nd FL I'm glad the author treated her with respect and actually brought up that Helena has feelings too just like Eris. What I loved the most about her was how she realistically handled the usual evil maid when some random maid put sand in Eris's dessert. When Eris slapped her Helena stood up for what was right and told Eris there was no reason to abuse someone else when they could easily just be fired. 👏 thank you Helena, thank you for finally doing what was sensible by firing the maid instead.

2nd: Sienna (isn't being a maid better than being a princess)

It was really hard to decide between Helena and Sienna so even though Sienna is up higher they are actually tied. Just gonna say it, out of all the FL's she beats all of them in terms of character design because that braid combined with green is perfect. The manhwa she's from is pretty short but it's still really wholesome albeit with a few cliches and random sad flashbacks.

1st: Bridgette. (This isekai maid is forming a union)

Reddit can complain about isekai maid villainizing nobles too much but I won't care because Bridgette, like Helena, IS a maid and naturally would be against workplace abuse. It's funny how quick they'll be about complaining that the nobles are one note because they don't have justifiable reasons to slap a maid while they don't bat an eye at the numerous counts of villainized maids in OI beforehand. Back to the point though Bridgette is one of the most complex protagonists I've ever seen. She can be mean, she can be kind, she can rash and she can still be resilient. That's what makes her so relatable she's not a single personality teathered to a ball and chain. Not only that but it's her and the entire story that made me feel comforted knowing I wasn't the only one turned off by the iffy tropes in OI being supported.

These tropes are all shown through flashbacks of Bridgettes past lives and I have to point out how much they still feel so unique even if they are the same soul, each of them making me cry one way or another. (Fawn and Muriel, my babies! 😭)

[graciegoeskrazy]

mine

matty healy + teen!daughter!reader

cw: mommy issues, lil yelling, crying, cursing, family secrets

an: i’m back. my b. the beginning is mid but the rest is not bad it gets better basically lol. ty to the anon who requested this. hope u enjoy :)))))

“Can I ask you something?” You asked George in the car.

“Anything.” He said.

You turned down the music and faced George over the armrest. “Who is my mother?”

“Anything but that,” he said, turning the music back up.

“George!” You said, stopping his hand. “C’mon. Just a name?”

“I should not be the one telling you who she is.”

“So you do know who she is…”

He looked at you for a second, knowing you caught him. He sighed and replied. “Yes.”

“Tell me.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“Ask your father.”

You sighed. “I’ve done that my whole life! He’s never given me anything. Not even a name.”

“Then what makes you think I would.”

He thought then turned to him. “Because you love me and I’m your favorite?”

“No.” He said too quickly.

He reached a red light and you reached over the armrests closer to him, trying to get him to answer and to annoy him.

“George, I’m turning 16 next week. I'm going to have a big party with all my friends over and have the time of my life, and I’m going to plan it all without my mom there.”

“Not the sob story.” He said, hands over his eyes.

“Yes, the sob story! Next year I’m gonna go to prom, and she's not gonna be there to help pick out my dress. Same for when I get married. She’s not gonna be there. I’m going to go through all of these milestones and she's not gonna be there and I will never know why. I don’t even know if she’s alive! I’ve spent the past nearly 16 years of my life wondering what she's like. Is she alive? Is she dead? Did she die during childbirth? Did she kill herself? Does she live back home? Have I met her? Is it someone that I know? I don’t fucking know because my overprotective father won't tell me shit!”

He looked at you for a minute then back at the road. You could tell you were about to break him.

“If she's alive and she doesn’t want to be a part of all those things, then at least I know that she's a bitch who didn't want to be there, instead of lying awake at night wondering.”

He sighed, and you grew hopeful.

“I don’t know much about her-”

“But you know some things…”

He looked at you, “Yeah.”

“Well?”

He pulled over. “You, my dear sweet girl, were unexpected.”

“I figured.”

“Your father had been dating someone during the end of school. We had met her a couple of times, he brought her around. It was whatever. One night, he showed up at my house, it was late. He was a sobbing mess. He told me she was pregnant and he was the father. No one knew except me and the boys. He eventually told your grandparents but they didn’t even know he had a girlfriend so that was a funny conversation.”

You held onto every word.

“She wanted to get rid of the pregnancy but she was already nearly halfway through the whole term before she found out so it was already too late. She said she wanted nothing to do with the baby so it was up to your dad to make a decision.”

“Was he gonna get rid of me?”

“He was torn. He wanted to keep going and do what he could but he also didn’t know if he could give you what you truly deserved then.”

He sighed.

“Your mother left right after she gave birth.”

Tears started forming in your eyes as you looked at George.

“Oh, bubs-”

“I’m fine- keep going.”

He sighed again. “Meanwhile, your dad took one look at his girl and fell in love. He vowed to give you everything he had and more.”

You gave him a suggesting look. He looked outside the window and the roof of the car. Anywhere but at you.

“Her name is Ayla. That’s all I know about her I swear. She never mentioned a job or a family or anything.”

You did it…

He turned to you with a serious look. “Promise me - you won’t go and look her up or cause any trouble.”

You held out your pinky.

“I promise.”

…

It’s crazy what a teenager can do with a name, the internet, and some time. It only took 15 minutes before you found her. Ayla Anderson. Age 33. Born in Manchester, lives in New York City. You were fully aware that George told you to do the exact opposite of what you were currently doing. You were also fully aware that your dad was playing Madison Square Garden in a couple of weeks and you would be in NYC along with him for 2 weeks. It was too perfect. You kept the info in tabs on your computer, occasionally looking over at it whenever you were bored. When the day came a mixture of adrenaline and anxiety took over you, not sure how to feel. Your breathing became incredibly shaky. The freezing New York City air combined with your uncontrollable anxiety became a recipe for unease once you got off the subway in Brooklyn. The 10-minute walk to the unfamiliar address was filled with emotions and questions. What if I got the person and place wrong? What if she recognizes my face instantly? What if she has kids? What if she pulls a gun on me before I speak? What if she just slams the door in my face? In a way, it made the walk seem to go by faster, but you couldn't tell if it was a good or bad thing.

The entire apartment building was filthy. Nasty floors that were covered with dirt that hadn’t been cleaned in years, walls that were filled head to toe with writings, graffiti, dirt, and even some spots of blood. The lights that were supposed to fill the hallway either had burnt-out bulbs or had broken pieces on the floor. When you arrived at the door and prepared to knock you heard the sound of cries that only could’ve been coming from a young child. You took a deep breath, closed your eyes, and knocked on the door, hoping that whatever came next would give you some answers.

“Coming.” A man’s voice answered. The door swung open and revealed a man who appeared to be in his forties wearing khakis, some band tee shirt, with a flask in hand.

You stood in shock. You had no idea who this man was. After a moment of not answering and just staring at his face, he spoke. “Can I help you?” He asked harshly.

“Um- yeah. Hi. I’m looking for Ayla Anderson.”

He nodded and walked back inside, slightly closing the door while doing so. “BABE! DOOR!”

As he disappeared from your eyesight, a woman came into view. You knew instantly. It was her.

You and your dad always looked like twins so to speak. You were the epitome of a mini Matty, but there were always some things that never made sense in terms of you inheriting them from your dad. For instance, your face shape and bone structure were completely different, your nose had a slightly different shape, and your skin tone was completely different than Matty’s. Those 3 things imparticular were staring right back at you when she opened the door.

She looked at you and spoke, obviously not recognizing who you were.

“Hi. Can I help you?”

You swallowed. “Um. Yes- are you Ayla Anderson?”

She tilted her head. “Depends.”

You smiled. Hopeful. Then spoke. “My name is y/n Healy.”

Her eyes widened when she realized your last name. You noticed the change on her face then hesitantly continued.

“Are you-“

“Please go away.” She said cutting you off.

“Are you my mom?” You said it quite loudly but you didn’t think anything of it until she shushed you and spoke in a hushed tone.

“My husband doesn’t know-“ She said, closing the door a little more as she stepped outside, hoping the man in the other room wouldn’t hear anything.

“Are you?” You asked again. Your eyes were glued to her.

“Listen, kid, you need to leave.” She went to reach for the door but you helped it open with a firm grasp.

“Are you my mother?” Your eyes and voice were full of tension.

She sighed, “Biologically…yes.” You softened just a bit. It was her. No more daydreams or fantasies of what she is or could be. It was her.

“But, in every other way shape, or form, I am nothing to you.” Her tone grew serious as she caught you off guard.

Before you could even think of how to respond, a cry coming from inside the apartment cut you off. She sighed and turned back to you. “That’s my kid, listen I-“

“You have a kid?” You asked, cutting her off.

She gave a very sad smile. She felt a wave of sadness when she realized she was handing you life-changing news. “I have 2. Yeah.” She gave a weak smile. “2 Boys.”

You slowly nodded while trying to peek inside the door. “So they’re-“

“And they don’t know you exist.” She said, cutting you off. She got serious again. “And as far as I’m concerned, they never will.”

She crossed her arms and whispered. “I’ve done so good at reshaping my past, the last thing I need is some kid coming and fucking it up.”

You stood in disbelief. How could she be this cruel?

“Why are you even here anyway? Money? You think I got money?”

“I’m not here for money.” Your voice was hoarse with tears.

“Then why are you here?”

You shrugged while continuing to cry. “To see you.” You whipped the tears and straightened up. “I wanted to see you.”

She sighed. “Yeah, well, that makes one of us.”

You were heartbroken.

She looked back into the apartment and then back to you, sighing. “Listen, kid, uh…what was your name?”

She doesn’t even know my name.

“Y/n.” You said, sadly.

“Y/n! Right. Listen, y/n. I’m sorry you came all this way for nothing. I’m sorry I can’t be the mother of your dreams or whatever the fuck you had planned in the little head of yours. Whatever you want, I can’t be that for you. Frankly, I don’t want to be.” She shook her head and sighed. “I’m being honest when I say I wish you the best of luck in life. But I truly don’t want any part in that.”

You swallowed and nodded, not having the courage to look up at her.

“Get home safely.” She said, slamming the door.

…

In the thousands of ways you pictured your mom since you were little, it sure wasn’t like this. The ride back to your and your dad’s Airbnb was faster than the ride over there. Time seems to always go faster when you are in your head. Some gave you looks as you sat quietly on the subway back, either of concern or confusion. It was New York City after all so seeing a young woman like you in your state is nothing new for some of these people. You got to your place sooner than expected and quickly wiped your tears before stepping inside. You were hopping to walk in quietly so no one would notice you but that goal was shot down when Mayhem loudly greeted you at the door. Like always, your father and George were sat at the kitchen table doing work. They said hi, not noticing your fragile state at first,

“Hey, bubs!” George said.

You mumbled a weak “Hey.” after getting up from petting the pup.

Your father took notice of your tone, as well as the dried tear stains of your cheeks. “You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, fine. I’m gonna go take a nap.” You said, as nonchalantly as possible. It didn't fool your dad and uncle though.

“What’s up with her?” George asked.

“I don’t know?” he furrowed his brows before adding, “I’ll go talk to her.”

…

As soon as you got upstairs you put your backpack down and jumped on your bed, letting out a plethora of tears you didn't know were there. You couldn't get her words out of your head, they just kept repeating in your mind. So much so that you never hear the footsteps your dad made while walking up the stairs and to your room. His knocking on the door took you out of your trance.

“Darling?” he asked.

“One sec.” You grabbed a tissue and wiped your tears quickly before going to the door and unlocking it.

He smiled at you, not saying a word.

You let out a small confused smirk. “What’s up?”

He sighed and leaned against the door frame. “How was your adventure?”

“Fine.” You replied. You held the door slightly closed, not wanting to let him in, Also giving short answers in the hope of this conversation ending quickly. You couldn't hold your emotions sin for that long.

“Fine?” He asked.

You swallowed “Yeah. Fine.”

He hummed before asking, “Where’d you go?”

“Brooklyn.” You said.

“Hm. What’s there?”

“Boring stuff. I just walked around, you know?”

He knew you were full of shit, but this felt different. He could push you the same way he was used to. This felt different. You felt…fragile. “Hm. You okay?”

“Yeah. Peachy,” you said, with a small, obviously fake, smile.

He straightened up and asked again. “You sure?”

You swallowed and slammed the door.

Matty’s suspensions were correct. “Darling, open the door.”

You were already sobbing. You locked the door and slid down it, sitting on the other side. “I can’t.”

His voice got sweet, laced with concern. “Why, love? What happened?”

At this point, George started heading up the stairs. They just heard your weeping and grew even more worried. “Please tell me, love.”

No answer.

“Darling, whatever it is, we'll figure it out. I won’t be mad I promise.”

Still, no answer.

“Are you safe? Are you hurt?”

Matty was now fearing every terrible scenario. “Y/n, please just-“

“I found her.”

He took a breath and thought before speaking, already connecting some dots.

He sighed, “Found who?” He asked, pretty confident he already knew the answer.

“Ayla.” You said, through tears,

“Y/n Healy-“

“I’m sorry! George told me her name-”

“George Daniel!”

George started to turn away but Matty grabbed him by the collar.

You spoke before he had a chance to get mad at your uncle. “She’s 33. Moved to the U.S. right after she gave birth. She lives on 1924 Larklin Street Apartment 4C in Brooklyn, New York where she lives with her two sons and husband.”

He sighed. “Oh my god-“

“George only told me her name. Don't get mad at him. I’m the one who did the research.”

He glared at George as he dropped his grip. “Did you visit her?” He asked.

“Yeah.” You hesitantly said.

“And what happened?”

The tears you thought were starting to disappear came back again at the thought of her words. “She told me to leave. Told me she doesn’t want any part in my life.”

“Fuck.” He knocked his head on the door, sighing.”

Your tears were now at a full 10 and you were slightly struggling to catch your breath. “Why was I not good enough, Dad?”

“Baby-”

“Why does she hate me?”

He sighed.

“What did I do?”

“You did nothing wrong, y/n-”

“Then why don't I have a mom?”

Matty thought then continued. “Because you don’t need her. The universe or whoever is up there knew that I and your entire family were more than capable of raising the best girl known to mankind. They knew that you were exactly what I needed, so they sent you my way with the help of some bitch named Ayla.”

“You don’t believe that do you?”

“The point is, you were sent my way for a reason, and that reason never involved Ayla.”

“You were meant for me. No one else.”

“You thought about those words for a bit and eventually your cries turned into sniffles.

“Can you open the door now?” He asked hesitantly.

You moved next to the door reached up and turned the handle, opening and unlocking it.

His heart winced when he saw you in your crying state. “Oh, my baby.”

He reached his arms out and you fell into his embrace immediately. Your head falls onto his chest. “It’s gonna be okay. I promise you.”

He pressed a kiss on your forehead.

You sat up after catching your breath. “Thank you for being mom and dad.”

He smiled and took you into another tight hug.

George appeared from around the corner and your dad playfully frowned at him.

“Never trusting your ass with family secrets again.”

You and George smiled. “Sorry mate.”

[carline-k]

The One and Only Vampire I Would (not) Faint On

Chrome x F! Commandant.

Synopsis: How are you going to explain to Chrome– who seems to really like his vampire coating– while you are excited for him, that you fear vampires? Can you make an exception for this one vampire to not allow yourself to lose your mind (and consciousness)? Oh, how you wish it would be that easy.

a.n.: Being someone that was wounded by a certain vampire anime “romance” (you know what you are), I must say vampires alert my fight-or-flight LOL. Mainly because of that Nosferatu became my least favorite coating of his, but I still love its design, really (the splash arts on his memories certainly… *nom*. Just thinking about it flutters my heart, again). Legit, it’s now on rerun and I am contemplating whether I should just buy it for his handsome portrait dkadlskadald ;;; Also, this could be just a piece of my oc/chrome stuff but i just want to make it as skk in general.

Art below was commissioned from this artist! @/maltmochie (go check them out!)

Lastly, Happy Halloween and hopefully you have fun reading this!

“Say… do you guys really have no other option for the coating options other than vampire?”

The rustling noise of the paper suddenly stops, replaced by the sound of a cup being lifted, a chugging noise, then a small ‘tack!’ sound produced by the collusion of the cup’s bottom and a certain researcher’s table. A tired gaze stares into the person that just threw the question. ‘A-kind-of silly question’, according to him.

“I beg your pardon?” Asimov says while his hands continue the previous halted move, arranging the stacks of paper that are almost never absent decorate his table. A drawing of a vampire-themed coating, or its proper name “Nosferatu”,  is settled between them, but soon gets picked up by you, who is currently sitting right beside him. Your eyes scan the drawing for the ninth time, flying your attention from the drawing board after checking it briefly back to a certain blonde construct who is busy on the other side of the lab, with Ayla checking every inch of his new coating to see if there’s a dent or any places that are still lacking or needing further adjustment. Once again, your eyes land on the drawing board, re-reading the name and the description of the coating.

Nosferatu.  Theme: Paradise Lost. Status: Completed, Accepted by the User: Chrome. Description: Drink a glass of redness in the dark night in admiration of all beings. No longer accepted by the light, he will still protect you quietly in the dark.

As much as those description lines send your stomach on somersault due to how romantic it sounds, it is still a weaker feeling compared to what you feel right now. You then look back at Asimov, almost forgetting to answer his previous question if not for the small cough he just let out to grab your attention back to him.

“Hmm, well… Halloween has waaay more varieties of monsters, no? Uhh, for example…” You wave your index finger, thinking hard, trying to come up with a “better” idea, per se. “Demon lord, witches, mages, puppets, grim-reapers, and so on.”

“And a vampire can still be categorized as a creature that is fitting for a spooky event, no?”, he argues back. You internally curse, despite expecting this kind of answer from him. ‘His point is absolutely valid, of course, but…’

“Well, it is. But isn’t it too… cliche and predictable?” a pause, “Corny?”, another pause, “Yeah. It’s totally repetitive and boring!”, you finally exclaimed as you nervously tap the drawing board. For the next whole 15 seconds, both of you suddenly enter what seemingly to be a staring contest, one is waiting for the other party’s response, while the latter is staring in disbelief at how dumb you sound right now. He then breaks the silent first. 

"You seem to be bothered by that. Don't tell me…” He leans closer, bringing his face right in front of you as he mutters those words in whispering and low tone, keeping his sharp gaze to you. You instinctively gulp, having a slight suspicion that he already has everything figured out.

“... you are scared of it?"

Like a deer caught in the headlight, you just freeze there, eyes widened, before trying to deny the man’s conclusion as fast as possible to refute his (very true) claim.

"No! No way! What makes you think of that? I – I mean… well, I AM kind of scared, isn't that the whole purpose of a spooky creature? To spook people? Does it not  count as a success as it invests fear in me– I mean people?!"

"...sure."

"..."

"..."

"So you are scared."

"...yeah."

"But it's Chrome who will be wearing that coating." That sentence alone is enough to spread red color on your cheeks. He knows about your feelings of the blonde construct (a bit too much as you keep babbling about Chrome on him). So much for being one of the close friends of yours since the day you worked with him, or just because he is a great vessel for pouring your heart’s content due to his tight-sealed lips when it comes to personal matters. 

"Does that make any difference?" You exhale, slightly pinching the bridge of your nose. Those vampire series “romance” that you watched during your teenage days slowly emerge back in your mind, sending shudders and unpleasant memories. It's unbearable to even watch 30 seconds of the clip of it nowadays. Whoever made that abusive-romance vampire series where they keep sucking the poor girl’s blood and declare that as love, is a totally lunatic– or a masochistic author, to be more precise. Or rather, it's just the fact that it’s just not your cup of tea, but it does become your personal hell nowadays. Everytime you try to overcome it, you feel like you want to sink to the nearest pond to cleanse your soul. You tried many times, only to end up with nightmares later. Does this man really think your crush could make you suddenly forget the fear? Deep down, you really hope so. 

"No, it unfortunately does not make any difference to me. It just reminds me of some stories I read because my friend suggested that it ended up giving me nightmares for like... weeks..." You summarize your reasoning to Asimov, who now has leaned back to his chair with crossed legs.

Asimov just hums, seems unbothered by your distraught. After all, the coating has already reached its complete stage, there's no way an opinion from one person could change the initial plan anyway. The user himself had no objection, since he and his teammates seemed to have arranged plans for their own team’s theme for this year’s halloween.

You glance once again at the drawing board that displays the 3D model of "Nosferatu" coating, rotating it around to give it more look. "Though, it does look great, artistically. I just feel.. too disturbed by it. Look at those red eyes… and pointy… uh, wings? And nice cravats, too… still…”, feeling more and more uncomfortable, you lightly shake your head, then slightly move closer so what you are about to say only reaches Asimov’s ears.

“But, Anyway, please don't tell this to Chrome! He already worked hard with WGAA to come up with this coating, he doesn’t have to worry about my feelings, since I know he is pretty self-aware about this kind of stuff, even with his normal frame. I will state this: this is my dumb secret that I will take into my grav–"

"Commandant?"

A familiar voice from behind almost made your heart jump outside your body as you yelped in surprise and nearly spilled Asimov's coffee had it not been held down by a firm mug-cast (thank heavens, you don't want to spend more money on fixing his computers stuff). You turn back, trying to gather your scattered mind after your freak out to regain your composure before embarrassing yourself further in front of Chrome. Well, you tried.

"CH–CHro–Chrome?! Wah– uh, Hello! Uh, do you need something?" 

Ah, shit. The voice you just let out really betrays your effort to appear undisturbed right now.

Standing before you is Chrome, which unfortunately for your poor soul, is currently still using the Nosferatu coating you were discussing with Asimov. Red eyes stare into you in surprise due to your previous freak out, a hint of worry is visible on his face. But to your certain fear, that expression is not registered in your head, busy keeping yourself together, to not make the person you adore find out about your silly discomfort. Your hand unconsciously reaching for something on the table, trying to find something to hold your dear life for, something that might become a distraction that offers small comfort to your shaking hand.

“Sorry, did I disturb something?”

“A-Ah! No, not at all! Don’t worry, Asimov just told me a scary story that made me so engrossed that I … didn’t realize you were behind me.” 

“I see.”

Seems like he is buying it. Fearing the situation plummet down into awkward silence, you decide to shoot a question. You let out a small cough to compose your voice before continuing, “Do you need something from me, Chrome?”

“Ah, right. Yes, I do need to ask something from you, Commandant. Ayla says this coating is 100% done, but I was wondering if you have any thoughts on it?”, he answers, his right hand plays with the cravat part of this coating, appearing to be a bit flustered after shooting that question at you. His currently red eyes glance at you, Asimov, Ayla, then back at you. 

“Uh, my thoughts? Um… I don’t think I understand what you mean…”

“Is this coating lacking something? Your advice always offers new insight, and I think it is just right to ask you about it right now before the finalization.”

Looks like the habit of discussing various things with him backfired at you for this case. “Uh… well…” You think hard, gripping something hard on your left-hand, which is the drawing board you just grabbed on. It helps you to tear your gaze from Chrome to look at the drawing, finally for the tenth time. The gears in your head are spinning fast, hoping something can come out as an idea to throw at Chrome so it can send him away from you. But nothing came up. So you resort to the easiest way, just answer something that screams 'OK'.

“I don’t think there’s anything lacking from this design, Chrome. I think it’s perfect!! Right, Ayla?” you exclaim as you pull the girl behind him into the conversation. As an artist, Ayla is the most knowledgeable one to convince someone about art, so you hope Ayla can indirectly cooperate with your compliment.

The girl’s eyes light up, very happy to hear your statement. “I know right, Commandant~! See, Chrome, there is nothing to worry, even the commandant thinks it’s already perfect~! Did my words not convince you enough that you need to confirm it to the Commandant? That’s a client’s dissatisfaction in my dictionary!” Ayla teases, but you know she means well. Chrome just nervously laughs as he shakes his head. “Please don’t take it that way, Ms. Ayla. I just have the habit of discussing a lot of stuff with Commandant, so this is normal. I am sorry if it offends you,” he replies. That earns a laugh from Ayla, telling him she is joking and doesn’t mind it.

“Then that’s great! We can now finalize the coating to the WGAA then! Let’s go there, Chrome!” pulling his shoulder eagerly, she tries to push Chrome to the door, urging him to follow her back to the WGAA department, looks like Ayla herself wants to release herself from another commission. The pushed man complies, but before walking through the door, he looks back at you. “Commandant, do you want to come with us?” 

You shake your head. “No need, I still have something to discuss with Asimov right here.” Well, it’s half truth. ‘Sorry Chrome, I would love to, but right now I feel like I am about to pass out due to fear.’ 

As the lab’s door closes, a loud sigh fills the room. Finally, once again there are only the two of you in the lab. You let yourself collapse at the chair, the feeling of breathlessness throughout the previous conversation seems to take the toll out of you. This is really bad. How are you going  to face him on the festival day when right now you are already struggling to keep yourself steady? You have heard this coating is related to the Strike Hawk’s plan for a stage play revolving around the theme called “Paradise Lost”, and Kamui mentioned briefly a few days ago that, “it will make you feel like you are really there to witness the horror of these creatures!” with a confident voice. That’s the last thing you want to feel. Only one idea that appears in your head to avoid such a situation and cause the most minimal damage to your pride and Chrome’s feelings.

“... I think I’ll find a way to make myself sick on that day.”

Scoffing, Asimov looks back at you, “You are crazy.”

“It’s better than hurting his feelings by avoiding to stare or even look at him. And it’ll be twice the nightmare if I see his disappointed face finding out that I am struggling to like his new coating. No way I’ll stain his memory with that. No way! No way!!!”

“Okay, I get it. Suit yourself.” He sounds like he just wants to escape your endless worry right now, and you can’t blame him.

Resolute with your decision, you feel a bit better, and suddenly aware that it seems you already bother Asimov enough. Getting ready to leave to go back to your dorm, you stand a while on the door, pressing the buttons, before looking back once more.

“You don’t happen to have a poison to make up a sick condition only for a day?”

“Get the hell out of my office.”

Well… isn’t it just great?

Turns out, you can’t get sick at all, or rather, you can’t find the window of opportunity to do so. Not without getting an angry-slash-disappointment gaze from Liv instantly making you feeling extremely guilty about it as you put back the ice cream you sneaked earlier back to the freezer (her wrath when it comes to your health is something you wish to avoid, just like your current predicament with Chrome’s coating). Because of that, you can’t consume too much ice cream or iced drinks to at least land you into a “getting sore-throat” situation. 

Another attempt was you begged Lucia to cook for you once, to present you with a delicacy that you know very well can send you to the ER of Star of Life, but her frame needs a lot of monitoring lately, which makes no time for her to do such things. Lee even helped you a lot with paperworks, making no rooms for you to stay up late. Hiding a huge stash of documents from him in your room was a futile attempt, in which you were getting scolded instead as he mistaken that action as your bad habit of being a procrastinator at day to work alone as a night-owl.

So here you are now, sitting in the theater room that you once used for the Romeo and Juliet stage play a few years ago. The place is crowded with some of the other squads, anticipating the upcoming play that is presented by Strike Hawk themselves. You sit among the audiences, your team, Cerberus, Dark Aries, and other task forces, even the Engineering and Purifying Force are invited, and to be honest, it’s such a rare sight to see all of them in this kind of mood, the always present grim and tired look evaporated from everyone’s face, putting aside the the endless war with Punishing Virus on Earth that never stops to keep everyone on guard.

“I heard Kamui planned this play, Commandant.” Lucia that sits on your left speaks as she reads the pamphlet she’s currently holding that contains the overview about the stage play.

“‘Planned’ is a generous word for him, Lucia. I am certain he was spewing ideas like bullets and Chrome is the one that has to gather it one by one to arrange it into a more decent plot.” Lee replies, which earns a chuckle from the three other members of Gray Raven. Remembering their constantly-bickering dynamics, it is not a surprise for Lee to have that kind of idea.

You take a look at the pamphlet that you have been holding since entering the theater, reading its synopsis for one more time.

‘Paradise Lost’, where it accepts creatures that are banished from light, engulfed in the eternal darkness not to suffer, but to celebrate a rebirth in an endless banquet.

Below the description is the list of the cast's name, which consists of all members of Strike Hawk. Except for Chrome, you are still in the dark about the roles of his other teammates. Continuing downward, there’s like a bunch of star-shaped designs that usually can be found on advertisements (this design choice is very Kamui, you think). 

‘Interactive! Immersive Play! Comedy! Scary! Romance!’

Looks like you missed that part of the pamphlet before until just now. “Interactive and Immersive?” Liv comments as she pays attention to the same part of the pamphlet with you, “Does that mean they will ask audiences to play along with them?” 

“Like those magic shows when they invite the audience to join them on stage, probably?” You reply, as she then nods and lets out a small hum. “I guess that’s the possibility, Commandant. Looks like it’ll be fun!”

Fun, huh? For some reason, you have a bad feeling about it. The possibility of something pops in your head but quickly dismissed as the lights of the room turn off, alerting you and all of the audiences that the play is about to start. 

‘I’ll just cast aside and try to enjoy the show, I guess…’ 

Silence fills the room for a moment, before dimmed light starts to brighten up, followed by an ominous toll of bells and melodies of music– consisting of organ and violin from what your ears can pick up– fills the air. Briefly, you feel like you have stepped into a world engulfed by darkness, standing in front of a mansion– a building that could be a magnum opus of an architect but left abandoned and claimed by underworld creatures that stumbled across it, turning it into their abode.

The scene continues to play out, painting the atmosphere and places to create what you call worldbuilding, getting to each scene with a tidy pacing, and it’s now starting to introduce the mansion “residents”. Wanshi, the first one to get the spotlight, is currently laying on a coffin, and seems to take the role of the classic undead creature from Chinese tales with the yellow charms attached on his forehead. For a heavy sleeper like him, this role sort of fits him perfectly (or he suggested it for an easier role that doesn’t involve him moving a lot). 

The next spotlight lights up at the center of the stage, drawing all of the audience's attention to Camu that is sitting on a prop that looks like a throne made of swords and skulls, wearing an outfit in which you can describe as the role of someone with high ranking, possibly a ruler of a realm. He sits with crossed legs, showing his authoritativeness. Kamui props himself right next to him, grinning like his usual self, wearing an outfit that is sculpted to look like a skeleton, with a mask sitting on his head– you are still unsure what to call his role.

And finally of course, the person you currently want to see the most and least at the same time, standing at the highest point of the stage, a massive ring-shaped stained glass window emits a bright light, making his figure very imposing. You can’t miss the sharp red eyes of him, for a moment it feels like those very eyes land on you, giving you goosebumps all over your skin. Your breath hitched for a moment.

“Commandant, are you feeling okay?” A whisper from Lucia distracts you, as she squeezes your lower arm with her hand lightly, a soothing gesture from her. Crap, did you display signs of stress just now by being fidgety or something else? Not wanting to distract any audience with your voice to reply to Lucia's question, you just nod to assure her you are fine, well, for now. Lucia seems to buy your answer as she nods back and returns her focus back to the stage, as you do the same.

The whole play continues, and the plot is actually pretty simple. It displays scenes on how each resident of the mansion interacts with each other, from the sleepy-as-ever the undead Wanshi, that no matter how many times Kamui nags him, still able to find the opportunity and places to rest. One scene also gives Camu the time to shine, he exclaims the words of darkness and victory as he stands proud at the rooftop of the mansion, screams of praise from the underworld creatures celebrating his triumph. Chrome is pretty isolated. When it’s his time to receive the spotlight, he stands near a window, holding a glass that’s filled with dark-red liquid. Blood or a wine, you can leave that to your imagination. The glass then being brought to his lips, slowly sips on it as he takes his sweet time to taste the beverage. 

There’s a slight smirk on his now red-stained lips.

The same color can be spotted on your face if the lights in the room are not dimmed enough to conceal it. Calm down, Calm down.

As time goes, you begin to grasp the story as well. After the many scenes of them claiming their possession and ruling many creatures, all of them want to hold a banquet in order to celebrate their victory on the night where total lunar eclipse happens, the so-called “Blood moon” night, where their whole plan to flood the land with darkness and reaches their final stage of ruling the entire land. A curse spell will be casted, pulling every living being that’s left to join them on the banquet, bewitching them to enter a new world, leaving the earthly concerns that have been shackling them. 

The stage changes, now being set up to show a grand banquet hall, red roses adorning every corner of the stage, with chandeliers hanging and reflecting the “moon” light, which when combined with the light of purple flames from the lanterns on the wall, setting the banquet in gloomy red-and-purple atmosphere, yet still grandiose. How can something so scary appear so aesthetically appealing? At the center, Kamui finally exclaims as he extends his hands to the direction of the audience.

“Shall we start to welcome our esteemed guest as our dance partner?”

…Dance Partner? 

You look around the stage, scanning your eyes expecting to see some side characters emerge from the curtains or between audiences, where they might pretend to be one before their time to perform arrives. 

Nothing. 

Does this mean…? No wonder you feel like something is missing as it finally clicks. You totally forgot the so-called "immersion play" the pamphlet mentioned. So the “immersive” means they want the audience to participate in a dance for their banquet scene? Your eyes wander around, seeing how Wanshi, Kamui, and Camu already picked their partners from different spots, some cheers and squeals can be heard from the crowds that surround them. 

And how is Chrome walking in your direction, his steps as perfect as his usual self, but his face is showing a confident smirk, which for a moment makes you think it’s very unfitting to him? If someone puts a mic close to your chest, it will surely pick up the loud thumping it’s making right now.

Like the Romeo and Juliet play both of you enacted back then, he reaches his hand to your right hand, bringing it close to his fanged-lips (for a moment you really thought you’ll lose your hand right then and there), kissing it so lightly. The difference is, this time the hand kiss leaves a chilling sensation at the back of your hand. Is it the Nosferatu frame’s design that’s grasping the characteristics of a vampire, whose body lacks warmth, or is it your skin that is currently getting cold from the nervousness and fear?

You feel another tug on your right hand that he has been holding, pulling you as it is prompting you to stand on your feet, and your currently numb body does exactly that, robotically following his lead. He guides you to walk carefully on the stairs to the center of the stage, approaching one of the spotlights with a chandelier decorating the ceiling.

The scenery around you, for a moment, reminds you of how you have been practicing and participating in many dances with Chrome all this time. At the start, it was just because it was required in order to attend some ceremonies, banquets, or whatever higher-ups social parties in which both of you were invited. It started solely for that reason, but deep down, at least for you, this is merely an excuse to be closer and spend any free time you have to fill your days with him. All those missions and practices tighten bonds between you, just like this position where he carefully wraps his other hand to your waist to lock you in place, waiting for his next move.

Chrome clearly plans this with how he adjusts everything– the pose, the beat of the music, the movement– to make sure you feel familiar despite the sudden situation he’s putting you through right now. The counts of the dance-steps you both have grown familiar with, the sways he leads your hand and body, the warmth that grows as you come chest-to-chest with him. For some minutes, you let your mind wander off to just think of this as one of those banquet dances.

Illuminated by the spotlight, both of you just sways around, light steps decorating the floor, the world blur into colors like butterflies surrounding two lovers in a sacred ritual.  

It goes for a while until the music fades out, slowing down everything you just experience and finally it comes to a halt. Now you both just stand there, still under the spotlight, though now you are completely unsure what to do. A sudden sensation of cold lands on your neck, making you flinch a bit. You cast your gaze to your side, seeing how Chrome’s hand is now touching the side part of your neck, then look up to find Chrome slightly bringing his head down, catching his eye that’s still glinting briefly, before closing the gap between you and leaning himself close to your ear. At first, you hear a rushed whisper of ‘Sorry, give me a moment’, before registering what’s happening.

The strands of his hair tickle your face as he buries himself into your shoulder. His warm breath fans your neck, but the same cold sensation from his fingers remains unmoved. A small smooch noise could be heard clearly due to his mic, and it finally hits you. He kisses your “neck” through his own hand, where his lips come in contact with his own fingers that’s shielding your neck, and from the audience's perspective, it looks like he actually kisses your neck. Like a vampire trying to get the taste of its prey. That action instantly makes you feel like you are thrown into an icy pool and a sensation of cold water a.k.a cold sweat starts to seep into your palm.

The theater erupts into a sea of squeals from the audiences. Some girls are having a good time watching this tale unfolding right now.

It remains for some time before he pulls back, now filling your view with only his face that appears imposing with the lights of the stage framing his features. The cold fingers that touched your neck are now moving to touch your chin, twisting your head  to face the owner. 

“A fine lady stranded– or rather, walked willingly with me into my abode, danced with me without questioning anything until now? Amusing.” He recites, displaying a face of amusement followed by a low chuckle.

His hand traces your chin, exploring your jawline before landing back to the neck, brushing it tenderly, “Skin so delicate, and it makes me want to claim you as mine once I mark you. Though, from the time we spent until now, you don’t mind that, do you?” He says, now smirking as he is entertained with the idea of it. “Tell me with your sweet voice, fine lady, do you want to spend an eternity with me in this endless-banquet? I promise an eternity full of euphoria, more than the seventh heaven could offer you.”

…

…Wow.

Since when can Chrome make such a face and say such playful words?!

His lines render you silent for a full five seconds, then your lips let out  high-pitched sputters with incomprehensible words. The whole event brings bewilderment looks and excited cheers from most of the audience, Gray Raven included (you swear from the corner of your eyes your team would react as if you are about to get kidnapped). People inside the theater won’t expect the usually composed commandant to be stupefied, remaining frozen on spot over a cheesy-flirting. It’s unsure whether you are freezing from the fear or from the lovestruck– no kidding, it’s both.

As you are about to reply (to be honest, you just can’t think of anything else other than using “huh?” to at least make the scene continue to flow), Chrome cuts you up, aware of your bewilderment, with something he had planned as impromptu in case the “dance partner” is not responding. He gets closer even more, breath fanning your left cheek.

“Should I give you a foretaste of it, to let you know how intoxicating it is?”

He opens his mouth, showing a full view of fangs with a sadistic look. Red eyes shine brighter as it stares at you like a feast. A sight that will swoon most people who are familiar with this concept of story, but unfortunately, you are not among them. It sways your stomach, dropping it to the ground like being dragged down by a roller coaster instead.

Your feet turn cold as the world suddenly twists around you, dark spots fill every corner of your eyes. The last strength of your feet that’s been supporting you vanishes as you proceed to smooch the cold stage floor with your body.

The last thing you heard was a bunch of screams of your name and the feeling of a pair of cold hands cradling your figure before completely drowning in darkness.

The warm feeling of a blanket and fluffy pillow envelopes you, giving you a sense of comfort. You struggle to open your eyes, your head feels so light whilst you try to collect your consciousness. The white ceiling and familiar decorated walls surrounding you are the signs that indicate you are currently back in your room. Did you feel so exhausted that you straightly fell asleep after the stage play? But you didn’t remember how it ends or you or when you and the others leave the theater–

Oh.

You fainted. On stage.

Consciousness fully returns to you, as you come to a realization that you really did mess up there. The sense of panic quickly fills your heart and urges your body to leave the bed and rush back to the theater. So you just do so, sitting up and mentally preparing yourself to apologize to everyone, especially him. Only for a hand to hold you firmly on your wrist preventing you from moving any further. You look to your left to the individual that apparently has been in the room, sitting quietly beside your bed this whole time.

“Chrome?”

Sitting there is the blonde-construct, back at his usual frame. His hair is strangely down, not the usual slicked-up hair you are so used to seeing these days. The realization dawns on you shortly though, as he once self-consciously asked if leaving his hair like that will make him appears weary (he was afraid you misunderstood it as he is too reluctant to see you that night, which you waved off and lightly joked how you would like to see it more often if it’s possible).

This time you can conclude that he is really in a very down mood.

For a moment, both of you just stare at each other, too lost in the thought of how to begin the conversation. In the end, Chrome is the one that takes initiative.

“You fainted, Commandant.” He jumps straight to the point.

“That I did…” is all you can say. 

“I have been informed about your situation from Asimov.” Oh, the beans have been spilled. Guess you don’t have to explain it anymore? Still, you feel guilty– extremely guilty– about this. Avoiding his eyes, you cast your attention to the blanket, fiddling with your right hand as the left one being held by the man beside you. Noticing your silence and your unwillingness to look at him, he grows anxious as well. 

“Commandant, please look at me…”

“...”

“Is this coating… really that bad? Do you really dislike it that much?” 

“NO!” Your voice finds a sudden strength to deny his absurd claim. Your hand tries to grip his wrist, keeping him to stay before drifting himself into negative thoughts any further.

Godness, that’s a very harsh assumption. Did Asimov just tell him you are disliking his frame, leaving no further explanation? Oh. 

He likely wants you to explain it to Chrome by yourself, giving you the opportunity to talk about it, which in some ways you are glad to have, though right now it’s too straight to the point to your liking after the whole chaos you just made. You are unsure whether to ‘accidentally’ spill his favorite coffee at the nearest sink for the badly provided information or give him a bag of expensive coffee as a thank-you gift for forcefully pulling you and Chrome in this conversation. 

“No, please trust me Chrome, it’s gorgeous, magnificent, perfect!! It’s just…It’s just on me…”

Pulling your legs to your chest, you try to hide yourself, at least your face, obscuring your eyes as you feel you are about to embarrass yourself any further in front of him. His hands clasp your left hand, a small gesture that turns into a silent reassuring for you to keep going.

“I can’t help but to feel my body shaking to the core and feeling myself shutting off due to my fear of… you know…” Finally, a confession escapes your lips. Who would have thought the first confession you tell him would be this? But you really just want to tell him the truth, your reason, and your feelings, as it is what you must do for him. “But I am fighting it. I don’t want my selfish fear to affect you.” 

‘You have given me a lot all these years, I should not ask too much.’

Your feet are surely shaking so much, an icy feeling spreads despite the warm blanket still wraps around them. You don’t want him to feel guilty and feel the necessity to act based on your opinion. It’s stupid, really. You are aware of his personality, one of them being the amazing leader that always comes with the most optimal answer, and it’s something you have always respected and learned a lot from him as there are times where you feel you are not good enough to be one for Gray Raven.

You thought it was just a one-sided feeling of admiration to him, but apparently, you became aware of his opinion towards you as well. The ear-studs that he once felt insecure about and asked if it looked out of place, are now being kept on his final Glory frame adjustment. That’s the point where you start to feel a bit self-conscious when it comes to discussing stuff with him. Including this whole problem.

Feeling suffocated enough after hiding your face, you slightly turn your face to your left, eyes peeking at his face but quickly turn to the bed sheet or floor, whatever you can land your gaze on right now. “When you performed that role so well on the stage, just like the pamphlet said, it is so entrancing that… for a moment I felt like I was actually about to be taken away by an actual vampire…”

Only your voice fills your room right now as Chrome listens to your explanation, his hands that’s still holding yours, softly tracing the back of your hand with his thumbs, successfully soothing your racing heart. One could say it’s also a way for Chrome to calm himself as well, given hearing your entire rambling just now increased his worries about you, yet at the same time, relieving as it’s not because his Nosferatu coating looks hideous that you hate it.

But truthfully, Chrome could craft any scenarios from A to N when he reviewed the scripts for the past few weeks, from anticipating random impromptu from Kamui to guiding dialogues when the other party confused on what to say, but none of them prepared in case you out of nowhere passed out on stage.

A small cough grabs your attention, pulling your unfocused eyes now at Chrome. “I am glad to hear your explanation, Commandant. I assure you don’t have to feel guilty about it as well. But please…” His grip on your hand tightens a bit, before continuing.

“Don’t hide such things from me in the future. I understand you think it as a burden, but I assure you it’s not. We have been solving harder obstacles, this is not something impossible.”

He is right. War rages over, yet both of you still pave the same path, reaching for the glorious day that one day must come.

Sheepishly, you chuckle and finally let out the breath you’ve been holding. “Thank you Chrome, and I know you said I don’t have to feel guilty, but I still want to say I’m sorry.”

“Ah… Apology accepted. You can relax now, Commandant.”

Finally, it feels like a huge weight left your heart, now the sense of relief washes over you. You straighten your feet, now turning yourself to face him as you sit on the edge of your bed. Now the tension is over, you just want to dwell on idle chit-chat with him. So, you bring up today’s performance, before the whole fainting stuff, of course. 

“Like I said earlier, your performance, Wanshi, Kamui, and Camu were so impressive. With big missions and little free time you guys had, there were barely any mistakes during the play. It was as if Strike Hawk was an actual theater kids group. And costumes too, especially yours, Chrome.”

“Really? Doesn’t my ‘nice costume’ points be reduced from your perspective?” He teases. 

“I mean, kind of. But, objectively, it surely is well-crafted. Every gaze seems like they are all over the heels for you!” You beam, the smile on your face as you cheerful state is back mirrored on Chrome’s face for a moment before it turns into a slight sad smile. Did you say something wrong? Before your mind once again flies everywhere, his voice, slightly whispering, reaches your ears.

“But it’s meaningless if it’s not from you.”

His rebuttal catches you out of your guard, like getting splashed with cold water. 

“I want you to see me in that light as well. I will feel content even if it is just from you.”

“Ah… I… I see.” You stammer as blush starts to decorate your face. Deep down, you feel like you know what he implies with those words, and because of that, you come with a new objective, it’s a way to make it up after all.  “Then, let’s work it out together, Chrome. Help me go through this?” It’s your turn now to wrap your palm on his, though you need not to plead, as you are certain the person in front of you will give a certain answer.

“That we will.”

Reassuring smiles decorates both of your faces.

“But, also… Chrome?”

Now it’s his turn to wonder what you are about to say.

“About those lines you said to me, I haven’t responded, have I?”

“Hmm?”

Suddenly, you wrap your hand on his neck, hugging him as you sink your head on his shoulder.

“Wherever you take me, that's where I'll follow you. If it's an eternal banquet where you and I will have a happy ending, I will succumb to darkness just to be with you.”

The hands that wrap around your waist is all you need to know that he understands. Shortly, a small peck from his lips lands on your neck, a small gesture mimicking a vampire marking its prey– or rather, his lover.

“Then so be it.”

“I was wondering, are there any reasons for you to pick me out of all the audience?”

After exiting your room, then settling at the kitchen bar to enjoy a cup of iced-water, Chrome explains the concept of his role.

“Kamui said you sometimes fangirl over villains in the video game doing ‘evil stuff’, so… I thought by doing something that related to that, one of them I read from a Golden Age novel about how evil vampires catch their prey, you would react the same. He said you will surely love it.” 

That just makes you rack your mind a bit, trying to remember the time which this information took place. Now it makes a lot of sense.

“I guess he mistook me fangirling over an evil-prefect that wants to rule the world in one of those visual novels we played and generalized it as I like everything that screams ‘villain’. Can’t blame him, though.” Shaking your head, you think you have to tone down your fangirling in the future, especially in front of Kamui, so he won’t take things too far in the future. 

You still have one more question though. The heaviest question.

“Did I destroy the entire play after I fainted?”

Chrome knows beforehand you will ask about this, quickly answer you to cast away your worry. “It was in fact almost becoming disastrous, but I ended up just doing anything that came to my mind.”

“And that is?”

“... Remember the time where I carried you escaping Hetero-Hive Mother?”

“Yeah? By– Ohhh…” 

You can picture it somehow, very clearly. You just hope next time you are conscious to fully tuck that memory inside your head.

[hapalopus]

I don't know if I'm gonna be able to get through The Mammoth Hunters, cause all I remember from it is how annoying the love triangle between Ayla/Jondalar/Ranec was. Even as an audiobook at 1.25x speed, The Valley of Horses is a slog to get through, and, if memory serves, it's only downhill from here.

Except for The Plains of Passage. I have very fond memories of that one, despite everyone describing it as a boring travelog. I remember the perilous camp on the glacier, the tree-climbing wolves, and the matriarchal society that kept its men in cages. I vividly remember the feeling of walking through tall grass for hours on end.

But I remember nothing of The Shelters of Stone, and the only think I remember from The Land of Painted Caves is that it was so boring I put it down a quarter of the way through.

Edit: I just looked up The Land of Painted Caves on wikipedia and I completely forgot that Ayla and Jondalar's child is called Jonayla. You can't make this shit up😭

[bikinibottomdayz]

JANUARY 10, 2025 RELEASE

All my videos can be found here, full release under the read more! I am also offering the two & Juliet videos as a bundle for 30 USD!

ORDER FORM HERE

This release includes: & Juliet (7/13 & 7/31), HPCC (tour), The Who's Tommy (Danny Quadrino), Wicked (Laurel Harris)

& JULIET July 13, 2024 (M) | Broadway | 4K MP4 (9.85GB) | bikinibottomday’s master Cast: Maya Boyd (Juliet), Betsy Wolfe (Anne Hathaway), Austin Scott (William Shakespeare), Makai Hernandez (u/s Romeo), Philippe Arroyo (Francois), Justin David Sullivan (May), Jeannette Bayardelle (t/r Nurse "Angelique"), David Bedella (t/r Lance), Brittany Nicholas (s/w Lady Capulet/Viola), Andrew Chappelle (Lord Capulet/Sly), Tiernan Tunnicliffe (Eleanor/Benvolio), Virgil Gadson (Augustine), Matt Raffy (Gregory), Daniel Assetta (Henry), Jasmine Rafael (Imogen), Khailah Johnson (Judith), Joomin Hwang (Kempe), Megan Kane (Lucy), Bobby "Pocket" Horner (Rumour), Michael Iván Carrier (s/w Thomas) Notes: Excellent 4K capture of Makai as Romeo! First ten minutes are a bit rough, with a few short blackouts and wide shots, but it gets better as it goes on. Some wandering / readjustment and unfocusing throughout. Includes curtain call, audio is fed from external source. https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjBzrLT | ASKING $20 USD NOT FOR SHARING EXCEPT THROUGH ME UNTIL JULY 2, 2025

& JULIET July 31, 2024 (E) | Broadway | 4K MP4 (10.04GB) | bikinibottomday’s master Cast: Maya Boyd (Juliet), Betsy Wolfe (Anne Hathaway), Austin Scott (William Shakespeare), Daniel J. Maldonado (u/s Romeo), Makai Hernandez (u/s Francois), Justin David Sullivan (May), Jeannette Bayardelle (t/r Nurse "Angelique"), Paulo Szot (Lance), Najah Hetsberger (Lady Capulet/Nell), Andrew Chappelle (Lord Capulet/Sly), Tiernan Tunnicliffe (Eleanor/Benvolio), Virgil Gadson (Augustine), Matt Raffy (Gregory), Daniel Assetta (Henry), Jasmine Rafael (Imogen), Khailah Johnson (Judith), Joomin Hwang (Kempe), Bobby "Pocket" Horner (Rumour), Michael Iván Carrier (s/w Thomas), Ava Noble (s/w Titania) Notes: Great 4K capture of Makai as Frankie! Footage starts 8 minutes in at the beginning of “Hit Me Baby,” audio only until then. Very minor head obstruction throughout. Some wandering and unfocusing throughout. Includes curtain call, audio is fed from external source. https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjBC6zM | ASKING $18 USD NOT FOR SHARING EXCEPT THROUGH ME UNTIL JULY 2, 2025

HARRY POTTER AND THE CURSED CHILD September 10, 2024 | First US Tour (Chicago, IL) | 4K MP4 (12.67GB) | bikinibottomday’s master Cast: Emmet Smith (Albus Potter), Aidan Close (Scorpius Malfoy), John Skelley (Harry Potter), Trish Lindstrom (Ginny Potter), Ebony Blake (Hermione Granger), Matt Mueller (Ron Weasley), Benjamin Thys (Draco Malfoy), Julia Nightingale (Delphi Diggory), Naiya Vanessa McCalla (Rose Granger-Weasley), Kaleb Alexander (Sorting Hat), Mackenzie Lesser-Roy (Moaning Myrtle, Lily Potter Sr.), Larry Yando (Albus Dumbledore, Amos Diggory, Severus Snape), Katherine Leask (Professor McGonagall, Professor Umbridge), Timmy Thompson (Craig Bowker, Jr.), Caleb Hafen (Cedric Diggory, James Potters), Julianna Austin (Polly Chapman), David Fine (Yann Fredericks), Zach Norton (Karl Jenkins, Viktor Krum), Maren Searle (Trolley Witch), Alexis Gordon (Madam Hooch), Torsten Johnson (Professor Mazoni), Nathan Hosner (Voldemort), Travis Patton (Teacher), Rene Thornton Jr. (Station Master), Chris Jarman (Voice of Phone Box/Voice of Bookcase), Paul Thornley (Voice of Ludo Bagman), Markus Blair, Casey Butler, Erin Chupinsky, Reese Sebastian Diaz, Simon Gagnon, Lauryn Hayes, Markelle Leigh, Evan Maltby, Ayla Stackhouse, Jennifer Thessen, Kristin Yancy Notes: Excellent 4K capture of the tour’s first preview! Some wandering / readjustment and unfocusing throughout. Some washout on the wider shots. Includes curtain call, audio fed from external source. https://mega.nz/folder/NtpHyKQC#yEDS9jvDa4nP0K-T0xby_Q | ASKING $20 USD NOT FOR SHARING EXCEPT THROUGH ME UNTIL JULY 2, 2025

THE WHO’S TOMMY July 10, 2024 (E) | Broadway | 4K MP4 (8.2GB) | bikinibottomday’s master Cast: Daniel Quadrino (u/s Tommy), Alison Luff (Mrs. Walker), Adam Jacobs (Captain Walker), John Ambrosino (Uncle Ernie), Bobby Conte (Cousin Kevin), Haley Gustafson (Sally Simpson), Aliah James (Nurse), Jenna Nicole Schoen (Nurse/Mrs. Simpson), Christina Sajous (The Acid Queen), Nathan Lucrezio (Lover/Mr. Simpson), Sheldon Henry (Hawker/Judge/Specialist), David Paul Kidder (s/w Allied Solder), Mike Cannon (Minister), Olive Ross-Kline (Tommy, Age 4), Reese Levine (Tommy, Age 10), Tyler Eisenreich (Commanding Officer), Alexandra Matteo (Head Nurse), Lily Kren (Psychiatrist), Andrew Tufano (Allied Soldier), Mark Mitrano (First Pinball Lad), Jeremiah Alsop (Second Pinball Lad), Dee Tomasetta (s/w Chief Resident), Reagan Pender (Bartender, s/w Harmonica Player), Ronnie S Bowman Jr. (Ensemble) Notes: Excellent 4K capture of Danny’s debut as Tommy! Minor head obstruction on the bottom which blocks off a bit of action. Some moments of wandering and unfocusing. Some washout on the wider shots. Momentary blackout during the last song due to a standing ovation. Includes curtain call, audio fed from external source. https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjBzd79 | ASKING $20 USD NOT FOR SHARING EXCEPT THROUGH ME UNTIL JULY 2, 2025

WICKED July 25, 2024 | Broadway | 4K MP4 (11.33GB) | bikinibottomday’s master Cast: Laurel Harris (s/b Elphaba), Alexandra Socha (Glinda), Jordan Litz (Fiyero), Donna McKechnie (Madame Morrible), Brad Oscar (The Wizard), Natalie Ortega (Nessarose), Jake Pedersen (Boq), William Youmans (Doctor Dillamond), Stephen Hernandez (s/w Chistery) Notes: Excellent 4K capture of Laurel as the temporary standby Elphaba! Increased wandering / readjustment and unfocusing throughout. Overall more messily filmed / wideshot than usual. Some washout on wider shots. Includes curtain call, audio is fed from external source. https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjBBqBi | ASKING $20 USD NOT FOR SHARING EXCEPT THROUGH ME UNTIL JULY 2, 2025

[blushingdread]

Hi MLB fandom, I am a passerby that tried to watch the show for my GF and failed, but I have read a bunch of fanfics and I think Butterfly Emilia would be cool as fuck

Some headcanons:

The butterfly does long-range magic by connecting to others and giving them magic, they're weapon isn't a weapon. It's a tool for communicating with their champions. Emilia has this big ass old timey microphone bc she's a former performer (actress if i rember correctly?) And she's all for the dramatics (Gabriel would have a head set) Despite it not being a weapon, she still wacks people with it

She has seven different pieces of butterfly jewelry on her transform (2 earrings, 2 rings, brooch, hair piece, and one holding her skirt in the back) fighting her directly is very annoying because they have no idea which fucking one is her miraculous

You may notice she's not wearing a mask, just makeup. Her face has been run through every database known to man. The cloaking magic makes it impossible to actually figure out. She doesn't really see herself as a villain, and she doesn't read comic books. Her outfit is more of a performance outfit (Marinette likes western comic books and is super hero themed, Adiren sees himself as a magical girl)

Her main motivation is that she's a MASSIVE control freak with entitlement issues. She was born rich rich and stumbled upon God jewelry. She is drunk on power 24/7 and doesn't think consequences exist. She wants to revive Gabriel bc she loves him. She's terrorizing Paris bc she thinks her happy ending is the most important and doesn't care about anyone else

Gabriel "died" from using both the peacock and butterfly to make Adiren (who Emilia designed herself, with blueprints) despite the fact that Noorou and Duusuo told them that using two miraculouses at once was a bad idea. He's her SIMP

Natalie is her childhood friend who is used to her "eccentric" behavior, and isn't in on the evil

Monarch constantly hyjacks tv/radio waves to harass the heroes. "This would be all be over if you just gave me your miraculous", "Why do you have to drag out this conflict? I just want to fix the wrong thing this magic caused.", "did that old man tell you anything before he gave you those?" <- at first. She tries to have good pr by making all her akumas only capture and sometimes helping people, but eventually she shows her true colors and she's no longer able to make the media call Ladybug and Chat selfish for not giving her their miraculouses. After her flip switches, she still does this, but it's more obvious. "This is all your fault, you know."Maybe I'll just keep doing this at 3am :D." kinda shit

Let's Adiren go to school bc both of the Kawami were like, "He doesn't actually love you. You just made him love you. You're actually a shitty mom." And it hurt her pride so much that she let her control of him slip to prove that he prefers her, and then he wanted to public school and it made her so maddd that she constantly targets the school to scare him and chase him back into her arms "of his own free will"

Emilia thinks Marinette is absolutely perfect and fits in her family so nicely. Except for some minor defects, she can correct ♡ much to Mari's slow dawning horror

Very vindictive and petty. Like, have a butterfly follow Ayla around for a week for reporting on her petty. She is doing psychological warfare on the children

Let's Chloé be childhood friends with Adrien literally bc she makes him uncomfortable, seee how good your mom is compared to others + Really likes Audrey and having perks from the mayor which means they have to be childhood friends

[shepherds-of-haven]

Hey! I have been a longtime fan of SHOH and I have recently begun writing my own fantasy story. How do you make your vast and rich cast of characters interact with each other in such a natural and consistent manner? I am really inspired by the way you fleshed out relationship dynamics for so many characters and would love to get some insight into that process.

Ah, thanks for the question, and thank you so much for your long support of ShoH, I really appreciate it! 💖

And hmm, this is a great question! I'm a bit chagrined to say that, at this point, I don't really think about it in the moment or apply a particular conscious methodology when it comes to writing the characters' interactions with each other: most of their dialogue and dynamics spring up naturally and seem to be dictated by the characters themselves, as well as my own long experience and familiarity with them. So in a way, it's sort of a "practice + patience = natural results" process! I start with their individual core personalities and then see how such characteristics might naturally react to each other: someone who's a bit more prickly and fiercely independent and assertive like Ayla might have friction with an authority figure as disciplined and military-minded as Blade, or would have more conflict with other members of her team due to her own natural wariness and past, but it also makes sense that she'd be softer around kind, non-threatening people like Shery or someone as naturally disarming and full of easy camaraderie like Trouble. Sometimes they do surprise me, though! But basically I carve out their most distinct personality traits, or what would be most apparent about them to strangers at a glance--(Chase: loose, playful, enigmatic, chaotic, mischievous, informal. Riel: rigid, highly intelligent, ruthless, orderly, neurotic, sophisticated)--and then I throw them together into different scenarios and observe how they might react to each other. Natural compatibilities or dynamics will start to form from there!

In my earliest days as a writer, one thing that I found really useful was switching up the format when writing and fleshing out the characters. Sometimes it's too much work to try and think of a Plot Reason why they're on a mission together or what other things are happening, like a whole short story about a mystery they're solving or whatever, and organically try to dig into their dynamic that way. If I really wanted to focus on exploring their relationship to each other, I would literally write either short screenplay vignettes as they came to me, devoid of any actual plot (like the two characters in a garden, eating lunch together), or interview/Q&A transcripts, LOL. This was a really good way of developing fast, off-the-cuff dialogue between the characters in a way that can deepen your understanding of their relationship. Like imagine they're just trapped in a room and some journalist or invisible speaker is plying them with questions. Sort of like how I imagine the Shepherds' Corner, where a panel of the characters are being polled for different questions!

(This is stirring up ancient memories for me, actually. In the LiveJournal days of like 2005, there would be tons of those OC number replacement questionnaires floating around, where there'd be 3-5 slots at the top; you'd assign each of your characters a number, and then the questionnaire would proceed to ask them questions, like so:

Blade

Briony

Trouble

Character #3, how much do you weigh?

Trouble: "Oh, uh... I actually have no idea. Nobody ever weighs me except the Healers during my annual exams, and I'm usually in a rush to get out of there as soon as I can, so I never asked..."

Blade: [disbelieving snort] "It's sure to be a lot. You eat for three."

Trouble: "Hey, fuck you?"

Briony: "You do eat a lot, Trouble..."

Maybe it seems a bit silly, but you can see how doing enough of these could allow certain character dynamics to emerge and become clearer: Blade and Trouble have a relationship where they take the piss out of each other, Briony is a more moderating influence but is still honest in a group setting (whereas she might be more diplomatic one-on-one LOL), and etc...)

Making character webs like this might also prove helpful!

Finally, one last thing to note is the form and medium that you're writing in. A rule that was often pushed in creative writing classes is that readers of short stories tend to be extremely economical with their time; the medium is already so pared down that readers will immediately notice fluff or filler, which is great for character and relationship-building but not so great for things like short stories, where every word and sentence has to count (or readers will wonder what's the point of including them). (<- Obviously, fanfiction adheres to different principles.) Conventional novels have much more leeway, but there are certainly still some constrictions; scenes often serve to either further the main plot, provide plot exposition or worldbuilding to a reader, progress a character's individual development, or provide momentum to some aspect of their relationship to others. So you don't often see stuff like Halek's witch's bane incident crop up in novels, unless it's something that comes back around in some way later. (Obviously this also varies with the novel and the genre.)

Part of the reason why I chose interactive fiction is because its conventions inherently allow more freedom with this kind of thing; you can eavesdrop on your companions drinking together, or play a card game with them, or have input as they argue about Caine's education or the state of current politics or what have you, because games are immersive and players are already primed to expect that kind of immersion, and so it's very easy to showcase the characters' interactions with each other. You don't have to worry about justifying the purpose of an interaction or a scene in relation to the overall story, especially because readers can often skip and ignore these interactions altogether. This isn't me trying to steer anyone towards a specific medium, btw: I'm just saying I have an inherently easier time showcasing these character dynamics and relationships because I'm making a game with them, whereas it might be harder to have an organic reason for Briony, Ayla, and Tallys to get drunk and start beating the shit out of some farmers in a tavern and then have a sleepover where they talk about their feelings in a typical novel? Hopefully that makes sense! The short of it is, it's absolutely possible to have the same kind of character beats and relationship-building in a novel, but if mine seem particularly rich and immersive, it's also because the genre I'm working in lends itself to that and provides a lot of opportunities!

Anyway, hopefully something in there was helpful! Thanks again for the question, and good luck with your own writing, that's so exciting! 🌟

[cosmictapestry]

hiiiii i’m ayla and i’m dreamofthemaidenless’s mom!!! i’m having a great time with the blog and i know you guys are too, so i’ve just got a couple little things to ask of you guys so we can all keep having fun!!!

please keep in mind that there is a real person behind the blog!!! obviously i have a very raunchy sense of humor but i do get uncomfortable with some of the more overtly sexual/admiring/romantic asks i get. just ask yourself if what you’re about to send might scare a very very very paranoid creature of some sort.

dreamofthemaidenless is an aspect of dream who is erratic, unpredictable, incomprehensible, and seemingly incompetent. nothing he does or says is intended to be sexy. he’s weird and gross

i do not like hob gadling, find him interesting, or ship dreamling. any asks about him will be answered dismissively

we’re following show chronology, so try not to ask about events that happen later in the comics. there are obvious exceptions, like the corinthian still being here. lore and events that happened earlier but haven’t been revealed in the show are absolutely fair game

if you submit or tag dreamofthemaidenless in fanart, he will only post/reblog it if it’s directly related to him or to a post he’s made. fanart is tagged #depiction. you can absolutely send me fanart over here on my main and i’d be happy to post it

i write morphienne erotica. if you even care

i might add to this at any time. if you have any questions shoot me (not dream) an ask thank youuuuuu