#She has committed foolish acts and is now contained

[ifra-strawberii]

Time Out Bubble

Poisana's gremlin acts are endangering the library books, much to Tam's dismay.

Posted using PostyBirb

[edenesth]

The Way to His Heart [17]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 3.6k

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

Warning: eMoTiOnAl DaMaGe

Part 16 | Fic Masterlist | Part 18

How dare he—

Jongho gritted his teeth, his fists tightening at the despicable tactics the fourth prince employed to disrupt your relationship with the general. Usually composed, the assistant struggled to contain his rising anger, feeling an overwhelming urge to resort to violence.

Meanwhile, all Eunsook cared about was your well-being. She empathised with your past, knowing all too well the horrors you endured in your old home. The idea of being married to someone potentially more ruthless than your previous abusers must have been terrifying. Despite understanding the reasons behind her master's actions, she acknowledged his moral ambiguity.

Her only wish was for you to accept that he would never hurt you.

Despite the whirlwind of emotions stirred by the revelation that Seonghwa might have been involved in more than just supervising your father's punishments, your expression remained unreadable. Yeosang held his breath, watching you intently, half-expecting a reaction of terror or betrayal. Whether it was shock, anger, or disbelief, he anticipated something negative.

Desperation clawed at the prince's heart as he clung to his last resort, willing it to work. Foolish as it might seem, the truth was he had no prior experience in wooing anyone, let alone a married woman committed to another. He fumbled in the dark, unsure of the right ways to win your heart, driven only by the conviction that he could be a better husband than General Park.

In his mind, he painted a picture of himself as the ideal partner for you, one who would treat you with the care and affection he believed you deserved. He saw himself as the only one who could truly understand the pain etched into your body, just as you might understand his. And so, he resolved to pursue you relentlessly, even if it meant resorting to drastic measures that could potentially cause you further trauma.

For the fourth prince, the ends justified the means. If it meant having you by his side, it would all be worth it. He vowed to spend the rest of his days showering you with nothing but love and kindness to make up for what he put you through today.

It's time you come to me now, darling.

However, he was in for a rude awakening if he believed you would run into his arms seeking comfort after learning the terrifying truth about the monster your husband turned out to be.

Instead, after a moment of collecting yourself, you lifted your head to meet his eyes, a newfound intensity burning within your gaze, "I'm sorry if this offends you, Your Highness, but what exactly do you hope to achieve by showing and telling me all of this? My husband acted as he did because those people deserved it. As for my father, if you could even call him that, he abused me all my life and killed my mother; he deserved whatever my husband gave him and more."

Though the revelations about the general's potential actions during those extra hours unsettled you, your anger shifted towards Yeosang for bringing them to light in such a manner. Clenching your fists to conceal your trembling hands, you remained resolute. Even if you didn't condone Seonghwa's actions, he was still your husband, and your love for him remained unchanged.

As you stood there, the annoyance toward the fourth prince simmered within you, each word he uttered adding fuel to the fire. From the very beginning, he had refused to acknowledge your new title as Lady Park, a small but significant act of disrespect. Then, he persisted in bringing up topics from your past, despite your obvious discomfort and desire to move on. Now, his deliberate attempts to tarnish the general's image felt almost like a personal attack.

The sarcasm laced in his words when speaking of your husband grated on your nerves. Seonghwa had sacrificed so much for the country, and the least he deserved was respect. It dawned on you now what San had meant about Yeosang's difficult nature. You finally understood why the prince's behaviour could be infuriating.

Jongho and Eunsook exchanged glances, their expressions shifting from concern to awe as they watched you stand your ground against the fourth prince's attempts to undermine your husband. At that moment, it became clear to them that perhaps their worries had been for nothing all along. They should have had more faith in your unwavering love and loyalty to their master.

Yeosang's confidence faltered as he observed your stern expression and heard the firmness in your voice. This was not the reaction he had anticipated from you. Perhaps he had underestimated the depth of your love and loyalty to General Park.

Could the Queen have been right all along?

Feeling a sense of urgency and realising he had no other viable option, His Highness took a deep breath and decided to come clean about his intentions once and for all. He couldn't risk angering you any further than he already had. It was time to be honest, even if it meant facing the consequences of his actions.

The smugness that had once characterised his demeanour now vanished, replaced by a palpable sense of shame as he lowered his head slightly, "I... gosh, I am sorry, my lady. I acknowledge that it was wrong of me to manipulate the situation like that. I'll be honest with you. There was no actual banquet planned. In truth, I haven't celebrated my birthday in years. It only serves as a painful reminder of my existence."

Your brows furrowed in apprehension as you listened, allowing him to continue with his explanation, "I take it you're wondering why I despise my own existence. You're likely unaware of my reputation, unlike others. You may have noticed the birthmark here," he gestured to the red mark on the side of his face, prompting a nod from you.

He offered a faint smile, "Throughout my life, I've been treated like a freak because of this mark. As a member of the royal family, I'm sure you're aware there's an expectation of flawless appearance. So, imagine the shock when they saw the fourth prince with such a conspicuous blemish, my parents included. Both within and beyond the palace walls, people have whispered about my birth, deeming it a curse, questioning if I should have even been born at all."

"Since reaching adulthood, I've rejected numerous marriage proposals. Every woman presented to me has regarded me with disdain in their eyes. But then I met you, my lady, that day in the cherry blossom garden. You were the first person to wear your own mark proudly, without a trace of revulsion. It was as if you saw beyond my appearance. I suppose you could say it was love at first sight for me. I'm in love with you, Miss Jang, and that's why I've brought you here today—to propose to you."

Everything suddenly fell into place.

The puzzle pieces of his behaviour over the past days and weeks finally clicked together, forming a clear picture. Empathy flooded your heart as you realised the depth of his struggles. You knew all too well what it felt like to be singled out, treated like an outsider even by those closest to you, and shown no respect despite your status.

However, you felt a pang of shock upon learning about his feelings for you and his pursuit. It was unexpected, to say the least. You hadn't imagined that he harboured such emotions, especially considering the complexities of your respective situations.

Observing your softened demeanour while listening to the prince's confession, Jongho and Eunsook felt a resurgence of worry. They understood Yeosang's struggles and empathised with his difficult life. Despite that, they couldn't ignore the fact that you were a married woman. Regardless of what His Highness may have gone through, pursuing someone who was already committed was inherently wrong.

The two of them exchanged a concerned glance, silently acknowledging the complexity of the situation. While they sympathised with the prince, they couldn't condone his actions, especially his attempt to come between you and your husband using such underhanded tactics.

Your chaperones would soon find reassurance in your response after a moment of contemplative silence. With a deep inhale, you attempted to offer Yeosang a smile, despite the earlier anger you felt towards him, "Look, Your Highness, I understand the hardships you've endured, and probably continue to endure. I genuinely empathise with you. I'm also truly grateful to have met you. I've never had any friends before, so meeting someone who shares similar interests means a lot to me."

His Highness grinned sadly, "Ah yes, I'm sensing a 'but' there."

With a light chuckle, you nodded, "But it's precisely because I see you as a friend and care about you that I want you to understand that whatever you think you might feel for me isn't love."

He stared at you with wide eyes, but you halted him before he could protest, "Perhaps you've mistaken the feelings of gratitude and joy from finally meeting someone who treats you sincerely for love," You gently explained, "My prince, love doesn't simply happen at first sight like that. It requires much more than that; two people must go through so much together before they truly understand their feelings. I've been through it myself, and I can assure you that what you're feeling is definitely not love."

"Lastly, please address me as Lady Park. I haven't gone by Miss Jang for a while now. While we can remain friends, I must insist that you respect my marriage and abandon any plans you may have. My heart belongs solely to the general, and that won't change."

You sighed at the pleading look in the prince's eyes, understanding that convincing him wouldn't be easy. But you had said your piece, and the rest was up to him to realise. Feeling the onset of a headache from everything, you bowed one final time, saying, "If there's to be no banquet as you've mentioned, we'll be taking our leave then. Thank you for having us today, Your Highness. I wish you happiness."

I'm almost there, my love.

Nearly two days had passed when Seonghwa finally arrived back in the city and approached his own estate. The journey had been one of the most challenging he had ever undertaken. He cursed his injury for slowing him down, as he had to make several stops to rest and change his bandages, mimicking the actions of the medical team soldiers who had tended to him. Despite his urgency to leave camp, he had taken care to pack enough supplies to last the trip back.

Regardless of the constant yearning to be with you again, he felt a twinge of guilt for leaving his army behind abruptly due to such personal matters. If his soldiers knew about his absence, some might consider him irresponsible for his actions.

Shaking his head, he recalled how he used to criticise some of his men distracted by thoughts of their loved ones during battles, viewing them as foolish for letting such distractions affect them. If someone had told him he would act similarly in the future, he wouldn't have believed them for a moment.

The things you do to me, my wife.

The mere thought of seeing and being near you again made his heart flutter. He admitted to himself that he had become one of those fools he once criticised, but he wouldn't change a thing. Experiencing love had shifted his perspective entirely, compelling him to do whatever it took to keep you by his side forever. Having saved you from a life of suffering, he couldn't bear the thought of leaving you alone again. He was determined to be the one to bring you joy, protect you, and stay with you for the rest of your days.

Or... was he really?

His conviction would soon waver as the ominous sensation in the pit of his stomach intensified with each step closer to his home. Alongside it, the pain in his abdomen escalated steadily. What should have been a mere graze now felt like something far more serious. In truth, the discomfort in his insides was becoming unbearable.

Seonghwa gritted his teeth as he clutched the area of his wound one last time, his breath catching in his throat as a sudden wave of pain coursed through him. With a determined exhale, he squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to endure the agony that surged within him.

At the entrance of his estate, the staff responsible for guarding widened their eyes in recognition of their master's arrival. He quickly straightened his posture, putting on a facade of strength to conceal any signs of his injury, "Master, you're back!" One of the staff members exclaimed, their surprise evident as they rushed forward to assist him down from his horse.

Within moments, Jongho emerged from the estate, his expression a mix of concern and relief as he hurried to the general's side, "Sir, I assume you've received my letter?"

Your husband nodded, "I did. His Highness also sent me one, mentioning his intention to propose to your mistress."

The assistant's eyes rounded in surprise, realising the extent of the fourth prince's confidence to openly declare his intentions to pursue you to the general, "Well, he certainly made the attempt."

Seonghwa's steps faltered at this revelation, and he turned to face Jongho, who seemed equally uneasy, "So, it's already happened?"

Nodding, the younger man blinked anxiously, "S-sir, it's not good. The mistress knows," The general felt his blood run cold at that, but he pressed on, "Please, be more specific."

Jongho swallowed hard, bowing his head apologetically, "She learned about the Jang family's punishments and what you've done to the former minister. The prince took us to the palace torture chambers as part of his scheme. While she stood her ground there, she demanded that I tell her everything that happened as soon as we got back."

Suddenly, Seonghwa understood the source of his ominous feeling. He should have known better than to believe he could keep the truth hidden from you forever. Surely, your compassionate heart would struggle to accept what he did. Taking a shaky breath, he asked, "Where is she now?"

"She's in the House of Lotus, sir. She hasn't left since we returned from the palace two days ago. But don't worry, Eunsook has been making sure she eats her meals." Jongho reassured him.

With a nod of gratitude towards the assistant, your husband made his way towards your quarters, passing by the head maid who was taken aback by his sudden appearance. She knew he should have still been at the warzone. However, a quick glance from Jongho conveyed that the master had returned because of their letter. Understanding dawned on her, and she could only hope for the best.

The general's breath hitched as he laid eyes on you again after so long. There you sat in the pavilion, your attention fixed on the lotus pond before you. You appeared just as radiant as the last time he had seen you. However, this time, instead of your usual lady etiquette books laid open, his heart lurched at the reports detailing your father's latest status beside you. These confidential documents, presented to Seonghwa monthly, tracked the former minister's movements. Biting back the wince that threatened to escape him, he ignored the increasing pain in his abdomen and called out your name.

As your head snapped up at the familiar voice, you gasped at the sight of your husband at the entrance of your quarters. Slowly rising from your seat, you cautiously approached him, unsure if this was a hallucination. For so long, you had imagined him here, in this very spot, so many times that you couldn't count. You hoped it was not your mind playing tricks on you again.

This isn't another dream, is it?

You didn't understand why he was back; there was no news about the war being over yet. It's not that you didn't want him here, you just didn't expect him to be here all of a sudden. Standing before him, you felt your eyes water and your heart pound from seeing him again. It took you a moment to process his presence before you whispered, "S-Seonghwa... what are you doing here?" When he did not respond, you noticed his gaze staring past you at the reports Jongho was forced to hand over to you.

Despite the intense urge to pull you into his arms and never let go, all he manages is to harden his expression, "So, I see you've found out." He said, his voice strained.

This wasn't how either of you had imagined your reunion after the tearful goodbye. With a deep sigh, you nodded grimly, your mind flashing with reminders of your family's physical punishments and the gruesome things he'd done to your father, momentarily shattering the loving image in your eyes, "Yes, I did. And if I hadn't, were you planning never to tell me? What happened to not keeping secrets between us, hm?"

Truth be told, you found yourself no longer harbouring anger towards him for this matter. Over the past two days, you'd taken time to reflect, understanding his perspective and somewhat rationalising his actions. While you weren't exactly upset, you simply desired to hear the whole truth from him directly and perhaps receive a plea for forgiveness. In any case, you were prepared to run into his embrace.

Your words to the prince in the palace were sincere. Your heart belonged only to Seonghwa, and that wouldn't change. You firmly believed in the strength of your love, likening it to the resilience of your lotus flowers, enduring despite the obstacles. This situation, you believed, was just one more challenge to overcome together.

But instead of giving you the response you expected, your heart sank at the cold smirk he wore before speaking, "That's right, I never would have told you the truth if it were up to me. You women are so troublesome; it was stupid of me to think I could actually handle one for the rest of my life. Besides, what difference would it have made? This is who I am, and you knew about my reputation from the moment you were promised to me. So, are you really that surprised?"

Crossing his arms over his chest, he turned away from you, adding, "You've seen the reports. Now that you know what I'm capable of, I won't bother hiding anything from you any longer."

His words pierced your heart like daggers, leaving you reeling in disbelief. Shaking your head in denial, you whimpered his name, hoping for some semblance of the man you loved to emerge from behind that cold facade. This wasn't what you wanted from him. You wanted him to fight for you, to reassure you of his love, just as you had done for him. Confusion gnawed at your insides.

Why wasn't he fighting for you?

What was going on?

"Seonghwa, I-I don't understand—"

Before you could finish, he cut you off abruptly, his words laced with finality, "Yes, it was me. I did all those horrible things to your family. That's the kind of monster I am. But now, you're free. Your family is gone, and no one can dictate your choices anymore. You're your own person. You can do whatever you want and love whoever you want. If it's the fourth prince you wish to be with, you have my blessing. Maybe he's the one who can give you the companionship you desire."

With that, he turned and stormed out of your quarters, leaving you alone and bewildered, with no assurance of his return.

Once out of your sight, he released a shaky breath and clutched his wound, feeling the fabric already soaked with blood seeping through his bandage. Despite his blurring vision, he stumbled through the estate, desperate to depart before anyone noticed his condition. Seonghwa wasn't oblivious; he knew he must have been poisoned when the pain of his injury became too unbearable.

With a sinking feeling, he realised he didn't have much time left, and perhaps Prince Yeosang was right. Maybe what you truly needed was a husband who would consistently stay by your side and not cause you the worry he did.

I'm sorry, my love. This is for the best.

« Preview of Part 18 »

"Physician Jung, there's a letter for you."

Yunho furrowed his brows, pausing his work on his latest concoction aimed at alleviating all of your scars. Despite the challenges he faced in this endeavour, he remained steadfast in his commitment to helping you restore your skin to its original state.

Setting aside the herbs he was working with, he approached the entrance of his quarters to accept the letter from Jongho, "For me?"

The younger man nodded in confirmation, "Yes, oddly enough, it arrived via a military messenger. Initially, I assumed it was intended for the general, but it's specifically addressed to you. General Officer Song requests your urgent attention."

Blinking, the doctor processed the information, "Wait, do you mean General Park has returned to the estate?"

Jongho smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck, "Oh, yeah. He arrived unannounced just a while ago, thanks to our letter. I suppose the situation at the warzone must have calmed down if he's able to return so quickly. He's with the mistress now. Let's hope things will improve with him here."

Relieved, Yunho nodded and quickly unfolded the letter. His stomach dropped, and his eyes widened at the hastily scribbled words, "H-he's with the mistress, you say?"

"Yes, what about it?" The assistant furrowed his brows in confusion as he watched Yunho shove the letter back into his hands before bolting out. Reading the letter himself, he soon found himself rushing in the same direction, dread filling his being.

No, this can't be.

I was so excited that I got to writing this as soon as I completed all the assignments for the first half of my semester! Only three parts until the end of this story, how we feeling out there?🤧

Holy crap, thank you so much for 1.4k followers! As always, thank you so much for reading and please let me know your thoughts! <3

Tag list (1/2): @huachengsbestie01 @evidive @weedforthoughtz @ssrnghwa @yunnieo @sunnyhokyu @lynnsqueendom @frobin4ever @chwesuh-imnida @thunderous-wolf @itstheghostofmypast @professormingisglasses @deltamoon666 @avantalem @famishalll @yungilia @soobiverse @joongified @scuzmunkie @http-gyu @mentoslol @atinyreads @angel-hyuckie @anxiousskylar @onedumbho3 @narashii @ddaeing @sanstreasure0305 @sohnfile @scarfac3 @dreamingofyeo @puppyminnnie @tinyteezer @vantediary @satsuri3su @mismatchfluffysocks @aliona124754 @bts-army380 @lilactangerine @atinyniki @pay13 @1117promises @xoxkii @st4rcig4r @hikarii02 @nescaffei @xdolls-crownx @ashrocker123 @skzline @minkiflwr @starssongs98 @baeksofty @skz1-4-3 @kawaiikels @madnpan @maoyueze @en-happiness @cheolliehugs @persnyako @startinystay @chngbnwf @fatspecimen @christinerose380 @stfu-rina @kyukyustar @taytayy178 @appleschre @brielle-in-the-galaxy @laurenwidjaja @yangwonielvrs @n1k1mura @idkwgoh @loveateez @linosllvr @wolfgurl2600-blog

All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[ddollipop]

BITE INTO ME HARDER, SINK YOUR TEETH INTO MY FLESH. . . ! — ( KAEYA ALBERICH. )

#. synopsis! — while rummaging about in kaeya’s office, a first-time petty criminal paid off by the fatui finds herself caught a little too red-handed. a shattered wine bottle leads to the knight’s most coveted secret unweaving, and you quickly realize that the “wine” in that bottle is no alcoholic beverage. it’s blood. kaeya alberich is a vampire, and it’s been quite a while since he last fed from human prey. . . an agreement is reached .

#. contains! — f!reader , explicitly nsfw content , vampire!kaeya , petty-criminal!reader , begging , oral sex , blowjobs , vaginal sex , office sex , wall sex , bloodsucking , biting , light sub/dom dynamics , cumming on ass , cum eating , cum swallowing , dirty talk , apology sex .

#. word count! — 4.5k .

#. a/n! — this was obviously supposed to go up on halloween, but yk, took the L on that one. hope everyone enjoys anyway, even if it's roughly three days late lol.

Sometimes, you’ve gotta do what you’ve gotta do; for yourself, and at some points, for others. A period of financial hardship recently fell upon your family, and though it’s mostly been resolved by now, the lingering fear that it could happen again has surmounted in you taking a rather. . . Foolish deal. Like most citizens of Mondstadt, you’ve been wary of the Fatui’s presence in the nation. They seem to be up to nefarious things that people like you aren’t privy to, and the prying eyes that sit deep behind their masks always unnerve you as you pass them by. Today, however, you were actually approached by one of them, —one who promised you a small fortune for a devious act.

Initially, you were quick to turn her away. Mora wasn’t worth working with the likes of the Fatui, you thought. . . But sometimes, moral sacrifices have to be made. You thought back to your scrambling family, uncertain of where their next meal would be coming from, thought back to the sleepless nights you spent doing odd jobs around the city that nobody else would touch just to be able to afford a few basic necessities. And then, against your better judgment, you accepted her conditions as long as she promised to keep you anonymous from her allies and request nothing of you ever again going forward.

A part of you wonders, even now that you’re trapped in the thick of it, if she’ll truly hold up her end of the bargain. You can only hope she’ll have enough decency to be true to her word.

With uncertain hands, you rummage about Kaeya’s personal office. All it took was a few minutes of begging and a few mustered up tears for you to be let in, —told that Kaeya was currently returning from a mission and would be back soon enough. You kept up the act; played the guards like a fiddle, and had to admit that there was a certain thrill in doing so that you hadn’t expected to enjoy so much. Sniffling, you thanked them profusely for their kindness, (for their stupidity,) and sat alone in the room until you were sure they’d gone on their ways.

That’s when the search began. Maybe there’s a method to Kaeya’s madness, but you certainly don’t get it. Then again, you’re not exactly sure what you’re supposed to be looking for either. It’s possible that the woman had simply approached you to test your limits, see if you’d be willing to commit an act of betrayal against your nation. . . When you think about it like that, it makes you want to run away from it all, offer apologies in advance for something you haven't even officially done yet.

But it’s too late to turn back now, and if the worst comes to pass again, you’ll need the Mora you’ve been promised. At the end of the day, your obligations are first to your family; not to Mondstadt as a whole. So, you continue forth with your rummaging, flicking through useless papers that would likely be of no interest to your commissioner. There were no specific instructions, but the last thing you’d want is to go through all this trouble only to be told that your efforts were in vain. As such, you’re left rifling through documents and letters, stationary items, and other miscellaneous things. Nothing that you would personally consider to be of note, —but maybe the Fatui will have some use for one of Kaeya’s personal letters to someone unnamed about the sweet taste of wine in the fall.

Frustration takes hold, your heart hammering like a drum in your chest as you try to listen for footsteps in the hall. The last thing you need from this is to be caught snooping around in the Cavalry Captain’s office.

With that in mind, —it seems you've jinxed yourself. In your attempt to be swift, you open a drawer much too quickly, and its contents spill out onto the floor. A glass bottle shatters, and with it, your nerves fry themselves into a dish unsuitable for even the wild animals of the forests. The distinct, metallic scent of blood fills your nose, and you reach up, thinking that the fear has left you with a nosebleed. However, you quickly realize. . . That’s not the case.

Rather, the pool of red liquid at your feet emanates the strong odor. You’re no wine connoisseur by any means, —but you’ve never smelled one that reeks of blood. That can’t possibly be normal. . . Right?

You bend down, dabbing the tips of your middle and index fingers into the substance. It clings much too well, feels thinly viscous when you rub it against your thumb, and it stinks of iron. 

“Lovely, isn’t it?”

You flinch so hard that every cell in your body seems to retract at the sound of Kaeya’s voice suddenly piping up from the corner. He stands nonchalantly, arms crossed over his chest, and that characteristic smirk clinging to the edges of his lips. In long, confident strides, he approaches you from the opposite side of the office, reaching out for you. His lithe fingers wrap around your wrist, —both soft, yet firm in grip.

When he brings your fingers to his mouth, you're stunned by the display he makes of licking the pads of them clean. The red liquid stains his tongue before he swallows it down, sucking on your digits for just a moment in what you can only assume is a gesture of good measure. You're too shocked to even think about pulling away.

"Ah," Kaeya clicks his newly cleaned tongue, "it seems we've run into a bit of a problem here, no?"

You swallow roughly, uncertain of what to say or do. You've been caught red-handed, very literally so, and you're at a loss as to where to go from here. A part of you wonders if turning on the waterworks will play out in your favor with Kaeya the way it did with the guards. Somehow, you doubt it. . .

"I'm sorry," spills past your lips before you have the chance to think it through. "I'm really sorry, just please—"

"You're sorry you got caught," Kaeya interrupts, but he doesn't sound particularly upset by it.

He speaks as if making little more than a casual observation.

"I'm sure you've got a tale to tell," he continues, "probably something sad, —a little sob story about your finances sinking into nothingness and a member of the Fatui approaching you with an offer you just couldn't refuse."

You swallow again, and his grip on your wrist tightens ever so slightly. Kaeya can tell by the look in your eyes that he's hit the nail on the head.

"Don't look so surprised," he scoffs, "—you're hardly special. I've met you ten, twenty times before. It always ends the same."

He's said so little, but has eluded to so much, and Kaeya loves the way your hand quivers in his hold.

The knight leans closer to whisper to you, warm tufts of breath fanning against the burning shell of your ear: "I will say though. . . You're the prettiest thief I've ever caught in my office."

He takes note of the way you inhale sharply at his compliment, interpreting it as a thank you.

"Now it's just a matter of how to punish you," Kaeya states. "I could always hand you over to someone else and have them deal with you, but where's the fun in that?"

Fun? Celestia knows that's the last thing on your mind right now as Kaeya's fingers tighten around your wrist again, further cementing his silent point of having no intentions of letting you go any time soon.

"That stuff on the floor," you say in a voice barely above a whimper, "—is it blood?"

He laughs. It's straight from the chest, so genuine and raw that it sends shivers up the length of your spine. To you, this is anything but funny. To him, it seems that he's more amused by you than anything else.

"You couldn't figure that out from the scent?" He questions. "Of course it is. But don't look so frightened. It's not from a human; it's the blood of a boar."

It’s as if he thought that anecdote would make having a bottle of the stuff in his office any easier to swallow, no matter where it originated. 

"And you just. . . Drink it?" You question.

"That's what Vampires do," he nods. "We drink blood. It's in our nature, one might say."

Vampires?

You've long heard rumors about them across Teyvat, but had always chalked them up to superstition and the imagination of parents trying to keep their children in line. Every once in a while, you'd catch wind of a forest animal found somewhere off outside the city with its body drained of blood, —but again, you'd chalk that up to little more than gossip and idle chatter.

"It's been quite a while since I've dranken straight from a human, though."

He could practically smell the surge of anxiety that rippled through your body like the evening tide to the jutting rocks just off Starsnatch Cliff. 

"I-I can fix that," you stammer. "If you agree to let me go, I'll let you drink my blood, and I promise you'll never see me anywhere near your office ever again."

Kaeya laughs again, and it's no less sinister than the first.

"You think you're in any position to be driving bargains?" He snickers.

Even so, it seems to you that he's weighing the options.

"Still," he muses, "I'll admit that I admire your ability to adapt so quickly. So just for that, —lean back against the wall and tilt your head to the side. I'll consider letting you go after I've had a good taste."

You oblige, against your better judgment, knowing that if your family were to find out about any of this, you'd never have the nerve to go home again. It would be bad enough if they knew you'd been speaking with a member of the Fatui, —but to have been driven to steal from a pillar of Mondstadt's community? Completely and utterly unheard of. Just like the real, genuine existence of Vampires is completely unheard of, —but here you are, about to have your blood sucked by one. Today’s been weird, —not that you really have the time to dwell on that right now.

"Don't make any sudden movements," Kaeya warns, brushing some loose strands of hair out of the way to have complete access to your neck. "The pain subsides faster if you keep your muscles relaxed."

Funnily enough, you hadn't considered the pain aspect of it up until now, but there was definitely no turning back. You glance at him, gulping nervously at the brief glint you catch of his fangs that have come out to feed.

"Do it," you whisper breathily, voice quivering as Kaeya's pupil seems to blow, his single iris beginning to swim with a bright, scarlet red color, replacing the striking blue that once resided there.

You barely have half the mind to register the quick breath that graces your skin before he’s sunken his fangs into your flesh. The initial puncture is the worst of it, —something akin to agonizing. It leaves you whimpering, barely able to keep yourself together to remain still. Your back is pressed against the wall, barely able to stabilize you as your knees begin to quake under the pressure and the pain.

Kaeya is quick about the ordeal, no hesitation to be found in his bite. It's been a long while since he's fed directly from a human, and you can feel the eagerness of his mouth when he laps at the puncture wounds on your neck. The rake of his tongue across your newfound injuries soothes you down swiftly enough.

Your blood tastes much better than any forest creature. It's sweet and dulcet, —so velvety as it flows into his mouth and plays on his tongue. Pain soon turns to a sick sense of pleasure, one so intense that it has your eyes rolling around in your skull. Arousal swims in your veins, blood pumping faster and your body in ruins. The wet, warm heat of Kaeya's mouth drowns out all reason and rationale, spreading across your skin like wildfire. 

Pleasure and pain meld together, becoming indistinguishable from one another. A blissful sense of devastation lingers in the wake of it all. The Vampire feeds, getting his fill of you as he listens to the soft moans that fall from your lips every so often. He doesn't need to pull away to see the arousal written across your face, to see the hollow expression of dream-like ecstasy you’re wearing, —although the option is certainly available. Kaeya can smell the surge of hormones running rampant inside you, along with the rampant thump of your quickening pulse. 

Arousal is normal during times of feeding. It’s encouraged by the bite of a Vampire, allowing them to feed faster as blood pumps more rapidly through the heart. 

With your back pressed firmly against a wall in the Cavalry Captain's office, you close your eyes and listen to the silent story of rushing fluid as your blood spills into Kaeya's desperate mouth. He could have easily drained you dry of every last drop, but managed to stop himself before the possibility was even on the horizon. When he pulls away, the corners of his mouth stained red, you watch with half-lidded eyes as he licks it up, making sure that none of your glorious crimson fluid would go to waste.

Lazily, Kaeya looks at you and inquires; “You okay?”

With glazed eyes and a pit burning deep within your stomach, your legs quiver as your back slips down the wall until you're sitting on the floor. They’re practically useless for the time being, thrumming with. . . Something. Whatever this feeling is, you’re wildly unfamiliar with it, and you don’t have the strength to question it. 

"Fine," you answer dreamily, thighs squeezing together irritably.

So fine, in fact, that your clit is throbbing against the soft material of your panties.

Kaeya has seen this before. It’s why he prefers to sustain himself on animal blood, and why he avoids feeding from humans, even when the taste is far superior to the staleness that often lingers in blood that comes from a bottle. Lust after a feeding session is both common and normal; almost to be expected. Some are worse off than others, with people like you being particularly sensitive to the rush of hormones a Vampire’s bite releases.

Moreover, Kaeya rarely indulges in sex. Attractive as he may be, with many suitors ready and willing to rip the clothes off his body and give him the ride of a lifetime, the knight has always preferred to take care of his needs himself. Occasionally, he’ll seek the assistance of a young woman from the city, but even those little rendezvous are few and far between (and never do they entail drinking anyone’s blood.)

Ah, but you. . . There was something special, —something different about you in a way Kaeya couldn’t quite put his finger on. He’d known that the moment you bared your neck to him, offering your blood in exchange for his silence mere moments after learning that Vampires aren’t just mythical creatures of legend. The once clever young woman he’d caught in his office, snooping around through his things, is now sitting on the floor with a pair of puncture wounds on her pretty throat, her eyes staring off at nothing in particular. Far off and dreamy, your legs squeeze together, seeking friction from the little twists your hips make.

Call it instinct or gentlemanly obligation, Kaeya felt it was only appropriate to clean up a mess he had more than a fair hand in creating, —so he gets down on a single knee beside you, brushing a few stray strands of hair away from your eyes.

“You’ve got two options,” he says. “You can take care of. . . All this,” looking up and down your languid body, “—by yourself, or you can ask politely for help and apologize for rummaging around my office without permission. Which’ll it be, darling?”

Your insides ripple at the thought of it alone. It’s absolutely incredible what a Vampire’s bite can do to a lowly human being; one oh so susceptible to the want and need of it all in the fallout.

“I’m sorry,” you all but whimper, mustering up your best pair of puppy-dog eyes in hopes that it would hit any sweet spots the Cavalry Captain could have buried within.

Admittedly, he’s more intrigued by the glaze of lust that hangs over your stare.

“What was that?” He mocks, feigning ignorance as he rises to his feet and takes a few strides back. “I didn’t quite catch what you said there.”

You swallow, ignoring the bitter pricks of pain that have begun to jolt about along your neck.

“I’m sorry—”

“Wrong,” he interjects, clicking his tongue disapprovingly once again. “It’s basic manners to know that one should grovel on their knees when begging for forgiveness.”

The breath that follows his subtle command is shaky as it passes your lips. You give a quick nod before pulling your body forward, suddenly feeling much heavier than before without the weight of the wall to support you. Hands smoothing their way across the hardwood floor and knees trailing behind, you approach him like a scolded pet ready to beg for attention from your master after making a mistake.

“I shouldn’t have come into your office without permission,” you admit, attempting to tune out the incessant thrum of your arousal. “And I shouldn’t have touched your things without permission either.”

“Mhm,” he hums, reaching down to grab your chin.

Kaeya forces you to look up at him from your place just before the space between his long, slender legs.

“And?”

“And I’m very sorry that I did.”

You’re less sorry now than you were five minutes ago. Right now, the only thing you can manage to think about is the heat from the tips of his fingers scorching at your skin, —sending shockwaves through your body that you desperately need to feel alight inside you.

He smirks, a small scoff bursting forth as he studies your pretty face.

“You’re sorry?” He inquires sarcastically.

“Yes,” you reply in a small, needy voice, “I’m sorry. So sorry.”

“That so?” His hands fall away from your face to tug at his pants, allowing his half-hard cock to spring free. “Then go ahead and show me just how sorry you are.”

You glance between his sizable length and his one visible eye. Kaeya takes himself into a loose grip, before snapping another command as you move back to sit on your knees.

“Open that pretty mouth up and let me see your lying little tongue.”

He slaps the warm head against your exposed tongue once, twice, thrice, —then smoothes himself over the wetness, cock sliding with your saliva. It’s not long before he bores of this, however, instead ordering you to put in some extra effort.

“Put your lips around it,” he instructs, sighing softly in relief when you do as he says.

With your mouth suctioned loosely around him, you offer a few sloppy licks to the tip. His hand comes down to rest with the flat of his palm against the crown of your head, encouraging you to continue on; to take him in deeper and let him feel all the dips and grooves of your throat. As he relaxes into you, you go off script and follow the beat of your own drum, so to speak. Kaeya barely stifles a moan as you lick a solid stripe from the bottom of his shaft to the leaking tip of his cock.

“Look at me,” he says simply; to which you comply, staring up at him with the best doe-eyed stare you can muster up with a cock stuffed in your jowls.

Even as the effects of his bite wear off and your neck begins to ache, the lust remains hot and heavy, pooled deep within your gut. The burning embers are stoked further the moment you take him into your mouth again, wrapping your lips around his member before sinking down slowly. A tempo rises from the ashes, a sigh escapes past Kaeya’s lips, and you begin the melody: shallow and easy. As the pressure builds within you both, your sluggish, almost lazy movements become much more fervent, and Kaeya’s hand returns to the crown of your head once more. His long fingers press against your hair, the other cupping the side of your face, encouraging you onward.

You establish a steady rhythm, —one that wracks your lover to the core. Kaeya feels his insides quiver as you bob up and down on him, your mouth nearly ghosting the base of his long cock accompanied by tiny gags that leave your throat contracting around him. He gets louder, groaning and whispering filthy words, mumbling sweet nothings about how pretty you are when he’s buried in your maw. Still, the knight seems to be holding onto a small sliver of self-control; one that you’re determined to strip him bare of before this little escapade comes to a close.

The rest is nothing but messy enthusiasm. You feel him twitch against your tongue, only to solidly press your nose against his naval, swallowing around him to tip him over the edge. It works like a charm.

As you pull away, Kaeya leaves you with a mouthful of hot cum. It’s thick, mild in flavor, and all too easy to drink down.

You make a show of swallowing it, and then of wiping your bottom lip clean. He could likely cum again just watching you in the aftermath.

“Good,” he says simply.

Kaeya then removes his shirt and is halfway through stepping out of his pants before he stops to pause, glancing down at you as if to ask “what do you think you’re waiting for?” Suffice to say, you get the hint.

As you stand naked before him, Kaeya’s lips meet yours for the first time. He moves the both of you back until your ass is pressed to the wall again, offering you stability as he attacks your lips in bruising kisses and laps at the insides of your mouth with little care. He’s like a starved lion; fervent in every move he makes and all too desperate, but somehow composed enough to control the situation with ease.

“Turn around,” he growls against your lips, wasting little time in smoothing his lithe fingers over the plane of your shoulders.

His arm encircles your throat, pulling you close to him as he reaches out with the other hand, demanding that you spit into it. He uses your saliva to slick himself up, then presses your shoulders toward the wall, barely offering you any time to find your bearings before his fingers prod at your entrance.

“You’re dripping,” he laughs.

If you had enough humility in the moment to be embarrassed, maybe you would have been; —but this isn’t exactly the type of situation for that. Rather, you arch your back a little further, hoping it might offer him better access (and thus encourage him to fuck you faster.)

It works easily enough.

Kaeya pushes his saliva ridden cock inside your sopping cunt, presses further into your insides all the way to the hilt. He bottoms out, leaving you gasping as your pussy clenches around the thick of him. Maybe it’s all part of a Vampire’s impact; but you’re seeing stars even before he makes any attempt to move, viewing galaxies behind your fluttering eyelids as he digs his fingernails into your hip. Your head’s up in the clouds again. . .

“Fuck,” he groans, —and you love the breathless twinge that ghosts along your spine when his head falls closer to his chest.

It’s all too good the way your cunt moves around him, welcoming him deep inside. He thought your blood was good, —great—, but this is like stuffing his cock into the gates of Celestia itself. You’re obnoxiously proud of the way Kaeya loses himself inside you, as if abandoning his status as Cavalry Captain just to get a taste of what it’s like to be truly human.

He pulls out slowly, as if to tease you even in his blissed out state, before slamming back in with reckless abandon. It’s so intense that it makes your insides quake, —unbearably intense and much too pleasurable, perhaps in a masochistic sense of the word.

The tempo rises once again. It begins as something quick and frantic, but evolves into something much more desperate, sharper and harsher. The distinct sounds of flesh slapping against flesh fills the room, likely seeping from his office and into the halls; but you’re too lost in the moment to care, especially when Kaeya picks up the pace. When he angles his thrusts just right, hitting all the sweet spots inside you, the both of you are reduced to little more than loud moans and desperate pants.

The air inside his office is no longer tempered. It might as well have been suffocating, but even breathing itself seemed to pale in comparison as a necessity when pitted against the pounding of Kaeya’s cock. 

A sob works its way up your throat, spilling past your lips excitedly. Your core is thrumming, pussy convulsing around him, —loving the way he fills you up as if his very life depends on it. His every move makes your body weaker by the second, pumping you full of adrenaline and ecstasy. It’s all so overwhelming in a way you simply cannot get enough of. You even love the way Kaeya leaves you struggling for breath, gasping for air in between the hammerings he offers right to your g-spot. 

At the edge, Kaeya reaches between your legs to play with your neglected clit, and without warning sinks his fangs into your neck once more. This time, he drinks nothing more than what spills up to the surface, breathing heavily against the skin of your throat. You’re left trembling underneath him, eyes rolling back into your skull as ecstasy explodes from within. He leaves you mewling, cumming on and clenching around him. 

It’s not long before Kaeya follows in suit, pulling out just in the nick of time to spill his seed along your ass. Your knees give way immediately, forcing you to the ground. It was, frankly, a miracle you’d been able to stand the entire time without collapsing before. His bite and the rippling impact of your orgasm have knocked all the wind from your sails, and you haven’t a clue how Kaeya is still standing tall after all of that.

“Yeah,” he breathes out, smoothing his hair back with a single hand, “—I’d say that apology suffices.”

You don’t even need to look his way to know that he’s got an annoying smirk plastered across his face.

[thewingedbaron]

Ketheric Thorm- Understanding

HAD to write this after reading @mightymizora's amazing Ketheric piece. He's such an interesting character with his fall from grace. I think his journey mirror's the Dark Urge's nicely. Anyway, here's a little Ketheric angst.

As the child strode confident into the underground chamber, Ketheric finally understood. Their face, once so twisted with glee at the sight of war blood slipping over their fingers, now held only determination. When Ketheric had first seen it in the throne room, he had mistaken them as an ally. Even without their memory, stolen away by Orin’s foolishness, they had returned to aid the venture that they had begun. When he had met the child for a second time at the top of the tower, he had struggled to comprehend what had gone wrong. The harbinger of the Absolute, the knife behind the curtain, returned with an angel at their side. 

Not but a month ago, Ketheric had sat at a long, lavish table, drinking wine while the child before him had hung off Gortash’s arm. He could still hear their hollow laughter as they played at love, celebrating a heist well executed. A heist that could not have succeeded without the clever Bhaalspawn at their side. Ketheric now understood what happened when that knife was in the other hand. 

He had lived long enough, far too long in fact, to know that the child was special. A chosen of their father was rare enough since the Times of Trouble, but one that was so cunning, so ruthless, that was special, indeed. Without them, the idea of the Absolute was simply that. An idea. A dream. Without them now, it still might be such. Ketheric had known that kind of power once. Three times he had been the chosen of a god. Three times he had pledged himself to a master, each darker and more twistedly cunning than the last. He had always known in his heart that he was destined for great, terrible things. When he had first laid eyes on the child, he has assumed they were the same. But tonight, he was sure that he was mistaken. 

The Bhaalspawn that faced him now had once been destined for great things. But destiny was not a product of one’s birth. It could be twisted, changed, and broken. Despite the blood of a murderous god roaring their veins, the child had persisted, changed, broken. Orin had broken them, assuming that she could take their place. Ketheric, it seemed, was not the only one that was mistaken this night. 

Rather than crawl back to fulfill their destiny, the child had chosen anew. Ketheric could still see the bloody hunger in their eyes as they fought, but it was different now. Contained. Like a rapid dog restrained by a sturdy chain. They had been broken, as Ketheric once had, and like him they had emerged stronger for it. 

Ketheric laughed, blood bubbling between his lips as the child’s blade pierced his heart. Their plan had failed, damn them. He hoped Gortash and Orin died with the same surprised look on their faces when they met the lynchpin of their demise. But the child had one last surprise in store. As Kethirc looked into their face, his vision slowly darkening, he saw… pity. Pity for an old man, a general who had committed countless horrid acts. Pity for an enemy. Oh child, how you have changed.  As his body fell into Myrkul’s embrace, Ketheric smiled.

We are on the same path, you and I. He thought. The same path, yet we have chosen opposite directions. Myrkul's embrace rushed to meet him, and Ketheric Thorm was no more.

[merakiui]

Hi! I saw the yan Childe wanting to marry his childhood friend and I wanna ask you something. What would he do if she decided to break the promise bc she knows that she wouldn't be happy with him and wanted to die instead? I don't know, I'm thinking in extreme rn and I'm very much obsessed with this concept 😂

Hi, Tri!!! :D Since you’re thinking in extreme, I also decided to go for something twisted.

(cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, manipulation, mentions of implied baby-trap/nsfw/non-con, female reader, mention of death/suicide/dangerous ideation)

Childe assumes you’re looking for an easy scapegoat—a way to make him feel so much pity that he’ll agree to forget about the promise altogether and just accept the fact that you want to die. That doesn’t happen, as much as you would’ve hoped, and it instead makes Childe curious. He wants to know why you’re thinking that way. Surely you don’t actually want that. You were always so eager to daydream about your wedding with him. What changed? Why aren’t you as enthusiastic as you used to be? Is it because he’s a Harbinger? Is it because he’s done foul things? Is it because he’s not your type?

Whatever the answers may be to those questions, the fact still remains that you made a promise. It would be foolish to break it now, especially since it’s been cemented into his mind for so long. He practically has it etched into his heart. It’s the sort of promise that’s unbreakable once it’s left its imprint. Now that the two of you are older, marriage feels like a plausible way to tie your souls together. Childe can already picture how lovely the ceremony will be—how happy his family will be to watch the two of you recite your vows and accept one another.

And yet any dreams of marriage or starting a family with you are shattered when he catches wind of your suicidal wishes. You must really hate him if you want to die that badly. That feels a little harsh to him. Childe isn’t a complete monster; he’s willing to do lots of things for you and all you have to do is accept him as your husband. It’s not like you’ll have any other chances in the romance department, as he’s made sure you’ll only look at him. It was petty, childish, and very selfish, but he couldn’t help it. Childe’s addicted to you.

He’s prevented your suicide so many times now and each time it gets too close. One of these days he’ll fail and then he’ll really lose you. That’s something he can’t bear, so it’s fairly easy for him to devise a plan to keep you by his side forever. It’s not something you’ll like and he’s aware that it could just make you hate him even more. But he puts your own wants and needs to the side and prioritizes his plans. In the back of his mind, beyond the calculating Harbinger who’s ready to spar with anything that has a pulse, there’s the idea of starting a family with you.

It might not be ideal at first, considering visits from him are scarce when he’s always traveling for missions. But you’ll be alive and well while he’s gone, under close supervision to ensure you won’t get the opportunity to commit suicide. And even if you think about the ways you can do it, you’ll be restricted by the fact that you wouldn’t just be ending your own life. You’d be ending the life of the child inside you. And you’ve always been a sweet, gentle person. Surely you don’t want to deny life to a child who hasn’t even experienced it yet; that’s just cruel and Childe will eagerly remind you of this fact whenever you start to act irrationally.

It’s unfair; you hate it, but it’s nearly impossible to escape. Any loopholes you might’ve exploited before have been tied up, expertly brushed to the side in an effort to contain you. Even though you covet death, your wishes will never be granted—not while Childe’s alive, at least. And unluckily for you he’s not going to die anytime soon. He has so much to look forward to! After all, the two of you are a couple now; you’re going to raise a child together. How can he not be happy? Of course he doesn’t want to die now!

For him it’s a dream come true, but for you it’s the beginning of a long, never-ending nightmare.

[along-came-atsushi]

BSD Mayoi’s Tarot Cards

I really liked BSD Mayoi’s approach to the tarot card theme and the beautiful artwork they put in there. Therefore, I decided to take a closer look at their meanings and to see if it fits with the chosen character.

All used cards belong to the Major Arcana tarot cards. The Major Arcana represent life lessons, karmic influences and big archetypical themes that influence a person’s life and the journey of their soul. They are the symbol of human consciousness and the key to life lessons. The Major Arcana include 21 numbered cards, starting with The Fool as the number 0. A Major Arcana in a tarot reading means that the person must reflect on the life lessons or that they are currently experiencing this time.

The tarot cards’ meanings and interpretations depend on and changes whether it’s upright or reversed. That means every card has positive (upright) and negative (reversed) meanings and their interpretations are heavily based on context. For example, The Fool in a reversed (negative) interpretation doesn’t simply mean that the person who gets the tarot reading is stupid, but that they might be in a point in their life where they have to decide something important and are reluctant to do so. Justice in an upright (positive) interpretation doesn’t simply mean that the person is righteous, and so on.

Besides their general meaning, the tarot cards also have a meaning for specific aspects of human life: health, spirituality, love and relationships, career and money. For this meta I’m focusing only on their general meaning.

  I’m going to show and quote the character’s reaction to their assigned tarot cards first, then describe the card’s design, explain their general meaning and lastly compare it to the character’s personality, relationships and ability. The original cards’ description is based on Rider-Waite’s “Pictorial Key to the Tarot” card guide and can vary with other cards’ designs. Please note that Mayoi has either left out or changed some elements in favor of their artistic freedom.

All information in this meta has been gathered from my research of several internet sites. I really had fun with the way I wrote this meta, so if we’ll ever get more characters as tarot cards, I’d very much like to continue this series.

[Beware: Spoilers for the Hunting Dogs/Decay of Angels Arc!]

Atsushi – The Fool

Memo:

Nakajima Atsushi as The Fool tarot card. While initially surprised by the name of his card, after learning of its interpretations, he seems to be deeply moved as he looks back on his past.

  Quotes: - “The name of this card, ‘The Fool’, surprised me at first, but I see it has positive meanings too! I'm kind of relieved...” - “It also stands for ‘freedom’. Hm... Compared to my old self, I can learn a lot of things, everyone from the Agency is by my side... and I can decide my own path...”.

  Description:

The Fool usually gazes at the sky and the universe. Atsushi’s gaze is turned towards the viewer, probably a design decision. But he has his head lifted up towards the sky, still implying the original direction of The Fool’s gaze.

He carries his bag with a branch that rests on his shoulder and the bag contains all the things that he needs. Since it’s not big, it could mean that he either doesn’t need much or that he doesn’t own much to begin with. The white rose on his bag symbolizes purity and innocence. The white dog to his feet symbolizes loyalty and protection.

Normally, The Fool is seen to be at the edge of a cliff, unaware that he could fall into the unknown. Behind him is a mountain, symbolizing the challenges that are about to come. But he doesn’t care about these things right now, he’s focused on starting his journey and to learn the lessons that he came to learn.

  Meanings and Interpretations:

- UPRIGHT: (new) beginnings, freedom/free-spirited, adventure, travel, originality, innocence, foolishness, carelessness, idealism, youth, spontaneity, lack of commitment.

- REVERSED: recklessness/risk-taking, carelessness, negligence, stupidity, distraction, apathy, irrationality, lack of fun/hope/faith, holding back.

Atsushi’s reaction at the meaning of his card is not surprising, since the word “fool” is not associated with positive meanings. The Fool in tarot is interpreted as the protagonist of a story and the Major Arcana is the path he must take, which is also called “The Fool’s Journey”. Along his way he meets new teachers and new life lessons and unveils the great mysteries of life. He eventually completes his journey reaching The World card.

Despite its name, The Fool is generally a positive card and the change it brings are seen as a welcome one. It indicates new beginnings, which means that someone is on the start of an exciting and unexpected adventure. On this adventure, The Fool may take a leap of faith, but will grow through this as a result. The adventure may not only be mental, but also physical, where The Fool has to travel to a place they’ve never been before.

Reversed, The Fool still means new beginnings, but it can signify that the person is reluctant to start their adventure or to jump into their new experience. It can indicate that the person is living in the moment, but that they behave recklessly towards others in their excitement.

~ ~ ~

This fits Atsushi, since he is the protagonist of BSD’s main story and his journey starts without him knowing about all the things that are about to come (positive and negative).

Atsushi’s past experiences in the orphanage as well as his isolated upbringing make him somewhat unaware and naïve about the world he lives in and its rules. He is unsure in his own capabilities and hesitates to take a new path unfolding before him (e.g., him joining the ADA). The new beginnings, as well as the dog symbolizing loyalty and protection could be a give and take symbolization for Atsushi. Meeting several characters in his life (especially the ADA members) offers him a new beginning, but he also stands in as a new beginning for these characters.

He is loyal and protective towards people who are important to him, but they also believe in him and are loyal and protective towards him, too. During his journey he takes a leap of faith in trusting in characters that were on the antagonizing side at first (Lucy, Akutagawa, Fitzgerald) and as a result, he grows through these interactions.

If possible, he likes to avoid doing tasks alone due to his lack of self-confidence and experience, which is shown when he questions himself, feels distressed or tries to avoid tough situations. Whenever the situation forces him to rely on himself (e.g., infiltrating Moby Dick) he comes out of it having learned a new lesson. His journey doesn’t only take place in his mind, but he has also physically traveled to a place where he has never been before (e.g., Standard Island).

Negative memories and experiences are something that hold him back throughout the story and make him hesitant in his decisions (e.g., the headmaster’s voice in his mind). He acts recklessly and careless in stressful situations, which causes him to tap into other characters’ traps (e.g., when he was under Q’s curse). During these situations he is not able to move on on his own and needs the help of others (e.g., Dazai scolding him). But he slowly realizes that he is now free from those past circumstances. He embraces the good things in his life and with this gradually moves on from his past.

  Yosano – The Empress

Memo:

Yosano Akiko as The Empress tarot card. While she is not particularly interested in the divination aspect of tarot, she seems to have noticed the similarities between herself and The Empress.

  Quotes: - “Tarot, yes... I am not at all interested in the overly uncertain aspects of divination, but The Empress has a rather beautiful design. I like it.” - “Apparently, The Empress is associated with vitality. Fufu, ‘vitality’. I like the sound of that.” - “I can only treat humans. And even then, I cannot treat all humans. I cannot control the vitality of the land like The Empress. Even so, I must do what I can.”

  Description:

The Empress sits on a throne as representation of her dominion over growing things. She wields a scepter with her left hand, which represents her power over life. A shield is placed at her feet, the eagle on it is the heraldic emblem of the Holy Roman Empire. She wears a crown with stars, showing her connection to the mystical realm and the cycles of the natural world (usually there are twelve stars, symbolizing the twelve months of the year and the twelve planets).

Golden wheat grows in the foreground, framing her figure and indicating the abundance of harvest. The background is adorned with mountains, instead of a forest as in the original design. The depiction of nature in The Empress’ card signifies her connection with Mother Earth and life itself. She rejuvenates herself by the energy of nature.

The figure of The Empress is often depicted as a pregnant woman, her robe is patterned with pomegranates, the symbol of fertility. She is also mostly adorned with the symbol of Venus (that is sometimes shown on the shield instead of the eagle), which is the epitome of love, creativity, fertility, beauty and grace.

  Meanings and Interpretations:

- UPRIGHT: Pregnancy, fertility, motherhood, sensuality, nurturing, creativity, beauty, femininity, nature, harmony, art, abundance.

- REVERSED: Insecurity, infertility, lack of confidence, lack of growth, overbearing tendencies, disharmony, negligence, creative block, dependence on others.

The Empress represents femininity and motherhood. Parents-to-be (mothers as well as fathers) who receive this card are encouraged to build on their communication with their children and to show them their nurturing side. However, even if the person is not a parent The Empress’ message stays the same.

It tells you to embrace your softer side and to listen to your emotions and intuition. People, especially those in need of empathy and compassion, will be drawn to you and you will be able to provide them with your nurturing. Not only does The Empress represent the creation of life, but also of romance, art or business. She symbolizes the emergence of an idea and the need to be receptive to change.

When The Empress appears reversed it tells you to embrace your feminine qualities. This also applies to men, as it is believed in tarot that all humans have masculine and feminine energies that need to be brought into balance. It signifies that a person may have been suppressing or neglecting their feminine side that needs to be embraced.

A person may be too focused on the material and mental aspects of their life and has disregarded the emotional and spiritual aspects. They may be putting the needs of others before their own or they may feel emotionally overwhelmed, so that they neglect the people important to them. It is advised to shift your focus in these situations and to ground yourself to get back to your inner balance.

~ ~ ~

Yosano is not associated with pregnancy or motherhood per se (since she is not a mother), but her role as a doctor and her ability can be interpreted symbolically in that way. She “creates” life or “gives birth” by bringing people back to life. She “nurtures” life by healing severe wounds.

This fits with her story arc, because she started her medical career already in her childhood. What began as a forced work during the war, turned out be a good blessing at first. The soldiers were in awe with her and her restoring ability, they were thankful and drawn to her nurturing side.

However, this turned out to be seen as the exact opposite, when the soldiers gradually experienced more trauma due to them being brought back to life over and over again. The same people now behaved hostile towards Yosano, involuntarily earning her the title “the angel of death”.

This trauma and abuse led to Yosano suffering herself, because she was forced to put the need of others before her own. This then led to her despising her own life and ability. She became visibly miserable and just a shell of who she once was, believing that she only brought demise to other people.

It was only when Fukuzawa and Ranpo found her that she started to gain hope and strength, because she was told that they were not interested in her ability, but in her kindness for others.This was the start for Yosano to realize that it’s not her supernatural ability alone, but also her mind and intentions that can help people, and marks the start of her career as the ADA’s doctor (even without her ability she is still a doctor and even without that she still values life and wants to save it).

Through her experiences she now knows the limits of her own abilities (both her supernatural ability and her abilities as a doctor), which can be seen in her reaction to her card. She still hasn’t given up on her work and duty, despite her negative memories. She won’t be losing track of herself, because she now has people at her side who truly care for her.

  Kenji – The Chariot

Memo:

Miyazawa Kenji as The Chariot tarot card. He seems very interested in the illustrations of the brave horses and their chariot. The two horses depicted on the card remind him of his days back in Ihatov.

  Quotes: - “The Chariot looks so valiant! And it has two horses! I bet they're good horses.” - “Apparently, one of the meanings of The Chariot is ‘the ability to take action’. Hmm~, I can't really tell, but what do you think? Do I have that?” - “I think it would be so fun if I could do my detective work with horses like the boy on this card! If I worked with horses, I feel like I'd be able to do a lot more!”

  Description:

Kenji is depicted as armored warrior. His laurel crown (although heavily altered in design) symbolize victory, success and spiritual evolution. The figure of The Chariot usually stands tall inside his chariot. In Kenji’s case that has been upgraded and exaggerated to him standing with one foot on the foreside and pointing with one finger ahead. A heavy indication of taking action and moving forward.

In front of the chariot are two horses, which represent positive and negative opposing forces and duality. The two horses pull in different and opposing directions, yet The Chariot uses his willpower and sheer resolve to move them in the direction that he wants. He doesn’t need to hold reins to move, instead he controls it through the strength of his will and mind.

In the original card’s design, the armor of The Chariot is decorated with crescent moons, which represent what is coming into being, a tunic with a square, representing the strength of will and other alchemical symbols that are a representation of spiritual transformation.

The canopy above his head is adorned with six pointed stars that indicate his connection to the celestial world and the divine will. Instead of horses, two sphinxes are in the foreground. A city with a large river can be seen behind The Chariot, symbolizing the need to be in flow with the rhythm of life while charging ahead towards your goals.

  Meanings and Interpretations:

- UPRIGHT: victory, overcoming obstacles, success, ambition, determination/willpower, control, self-discipline, hard work and focus, action.

- REVERSED: forcefulness, lack of direction, lack of self-control, powerlessness, aggression, coercion, being blocked by obstacles, opposition.

The Chariot upright represents overcoming obstacles through determination, focus and willpower. The person may feel motivated, ambitious and in control, therefore they are encouraged to go for what they want. There may be challenges and obstacles in The Chariot’s path, but if you stay focused and believe in your own abilities, you will be able to overcome these. The Chariot can also represent travel, as it is a means of transportation.

People who receive this card may feel like they are fighting a battle and because of that act defensively or aggressively to hide that they are emotionally vulnerable at the moment. In this case, you are encouraged to find balance between the heart and the mind. The Chariot also indicates success in sports and competitions.

The Chariot reversed means that a person may feel powerless and lack direction and confidence. They may feel put upon by others or the circumstances in their life. This can lead to anger and frustration as well as uncontrolled aggression. The Chariot advises you that you need to take control of your own destiny and to not let outside forces determine your path.

It indicates that you need to set boundaries and stick to them and to be clear about the time and resources you are willing to dedicate to others. If people in your life become too needy and demanding the person is advised to take back their own power.

~ ~ ~

Kenji starts his story by moving from the land to the city. His decision to leave his family and village, live in the city and to work for the ADA can be interpreted as him moving forward in a physical and spiritual sense. He is willing to challenge his new surroundings and grows through this as a result.

He has shown to be very confident in himself and his abilities, being the most optimistic of the group and to always look on the positive side of things. Tough situations do not worry him much, because he believes the outcome will work out just fine.This determination also transfers to other characters when they are with him and should they find themselves in a distressed situation (e.g., when he had his mission with Atsushi who was constantly worried about how Kenji does his work).

Being able to control something with his pure willpower could also be interpreted as an allusion to his supernatural ability that allows him to lift up cars or tear down stone walls on a whim. However, Kenji’s ability relies on the fact that he needs to be hungry in order to use it and the ADA members also advise to not disturb him when he is sleeping, because he will get irritated and aggressive in that state. 

Kenji has been shown to not only be able to get over physical obstacles, thanks to his ability (e.g., bringing Fukuzawa out of the hospital). He is also able to encourage his peers to get over mental obstacles (e.g., his speech to the ADA when they flee from the HD).

  Kunikida – Justice

Memo:

Kunikida Doppo as the Justice tarot card. Having always stood for justice and ideals, Kunikida has a favorable impression of this card.

  Quotes: - “Justice... What a well-named card. The sword and scale illustrations aren't bad either.” - “I have no desire to sit on a throne, but I value fairness, which is one of the meanings this card holds. I want to uphold this as I carry out my Agency duties.”

  Description:

Kunikida as the figure of Justice sits on a throne, holding a sword in his right hand and scales in his left hand. The sword points upwards, symbolizing a firm and final decision. Its double-edged blade is a reminder that our actions always carry consequences. The scales show that intuition must always balance logic and are a symbol of impartiality.

He wears a crown with a small square on it, a representation of well-ordered thoughts. His white shoes looking from underneath his robe also symbolize that our actions have spiritual consequences.

The figure of Justice sometimes is depicted in front of a loosely hung purple veil, which signifies compassion. Two pillars frame the figure, symbolizing balance, law and structure.

  Meanings and Interpretations:

- UPRIGHT: justice, karmic justice, consequences, legal disputes, law, truth, honesty, integrity, cause and effect, life lessons, fairness.

- REVERSED: injustice, karmic retribution, dishonesty, corruption, lack of accountability, dishonesty, unfairness, karmic avoidance.

In an upright context, the Justice tarot card is a representation of karmic justice, legal matters, cause and effect. Justice symbolizes truth and integrity and can imply that a person may feel the urge to speak out the truth. This person values honesty and integrity in others, too.

Justice also relates to balance and signifies that an event may occur that is beyond a person’s control or their own making. In these moments Justice encourages the person to keep themself level-headed as the events unfold. It also signifies that a person is about to make a choice and that they are currently weighing all their options. In legal matters, this card shows that the outcome will be a fair and balanced result.

Reversed, Justice means injustice and the avoidance of karmic justice. It symbolizes that a person has been treated unjustly or that they are in a situation where they are being affected unfairly by the choices and actions of others. The person may feel victimized or blamed for something that isn’t their fault. Justice reminds the person to still keep their balance. If the person created the situation themself, it is advised to think about how they can react to that situation. It also signifies that the person must be accountable, if they created the situation by bad choices and actions. This means that the person should not blame others and to be more self-aware.

It can also symbolize dishonesty and that a person should not lie their way out of something or try to justify it. The person may also have hardline views in their life and prejudices the people around them. In legal matters, Justice indicates that the result will be one of injustice or that the outcome may not what the person has hoped for.

~ ~ ~

Kunikida is practically the personification of justice of all of the ADA members and justice is also something that he has been shown to think about a lot. He takes his work very professional and serious and tries to bring every case to a fair result. If he isn’t able to save people, he calls out the unfairness of the situation (e.g. when he tried to save the abducted victims in the Azure Messenger case.) This shows that he feels responsible and guilty even for events that were out of his control.

He seems to try to balance his own life by sticking to his written ideals and calls others out shouldn’t they behave in the same way (e.g. mostly seen when Dazai is neglecting his work). If he notices that people are distressed during a bad situation, he reminds them to keep their balance or he tells them to think about what they can do (e.g. to Atsushi when the Black Lizard attacked the ADA office). But he also reminds himself about these things (e.g., seen when he was told by Jouno that he felt relieved about the ADA getting caught and with this his ideals falling apart. But then he got back to his knees and defended the ADA, so that they could escape.)

When Kunikida meets new people, he keeps up his guard and distance at first, and holds prejudices about them (e.g. when he met Dazai, Atsushi and Kyouka). This can lead to him having a wrong first impression of people (negative and positive) and with this easily fall into traps (e.g., when he did not realize that Sasaki was the Azure Messenger).

This implies that he first weighs to be careful about whom he trusts (in this case a new colleague), and changes his mind about them later, once they have proven to be trustworthy.

  Tanizaki – Temperance

Memo:

Tanizaki Junichiro as the Temperance tarot card. While he initially tilted his head at the card's rather strange design, he faces its mystical aura head-on. He seems to have interpreted the card's meaning in his own way.

Quotes: - “The person on this card is pouring liquid from one cup into another... What on earth for?” - “So, Temperance also means ‘harmony’. Hm, am I harmonic? Oh, sometimes I sort things out when there's a commotion at the office... so I guess I am?” - “Hmm, so it means ‘devotion’ too... The only person I'm devoted to is Naomi. To me, Naomi is irreplaceable.”

  Description:

Tanizaki balances himself with one foot on land, representing the need to stay grounded and the other in the water, representing the need to be in flow. The water he pours between two cups are the symbol of the flow and alchemy of life. This was a standard symbol of Temperance as one of the cardinal virtues, as it represents the dilution of wine with water.

In many decks, the figure of Temperance is depicted as winged angel, but instead we see two feathers, probably meant as surrogate of the angel’s wings. The background shows a path leading to a mountain with a golden crown on top, but this depiction has been changed in Tanizaki’s card and the golden crown rests upon his own head instead. The crown is a symbol of taking the higher path and staying true to one’s meaning and purpose in life.

  Meanings and Interpretations:

- UPRIGHT: Balance, peace, patience, moderation, inner calm, perspective, tranquility, harmonious relationships, soulmates, purpose.

- REVERSED: Imbalance, self-indulgence, excess, clashing, lack of perspective, discord, antagonism, recklessness, hastiness, self-healing, re-alignment.

Upright, Temperance indicates that a person has found their inner calm and peace. They have a good perspective on things and care about harmonious relationships. It signifies feeling content and having found tranquility. Temperance shows that a person is in touch with who they are inside and what they value.

They have their own moral compass and have learned not to get dragged into other people’s conflicts. Minor issues won’t knock them off balance, instead they adapt to the situation with a clear mind and a calm heart. Figuring out your aspirations and your goals is easier for people who get this card in their readings.

In a reversed position, Temperance means imbalance. It signifies that a person behaves in a reckless manner. The person may have lost touch with their inner calm and peace, which leads to them seeking gratification in harmful and risky ways (like alcohol, drug use or gambling).

It can also mean that the person has a lack of harmony with the people in their life and due to this the person may lash out to people close to them, which then causes them to get dragged into drama. In these situations, it is advised to take a step back and look at how you are behaving, because you may lack to see the bigger picture. Examining the root causes and working to resolve them is the way back to your inner calm and peace.

~ ~ ~

Tanizaki appears to be one of the calmest people in the ADA. He does not get into quarrels with others, even if he is wary or hesitant about their ideas (e.g., giving in to Naomi’s demands and shenanigans, hesitating and getting tricked by Dazai to participate in Atsushi’s entrance exam).

Although, he is nervous on missions, he still takes them on with a clear mind and a professional approach. Many missions are entrusted to him alone, showing that people know that he can handle the situation just well.

His decision to work for the ADA could imply that he has found his goal and his purpose in life. His dedication to Naomi shows that he is patient and calm, and that he cares deeply for a harmonious relationship between them. Keeping her safe above all things indicates that he’s sees it as his purpose in his life, too.

However, Naomi is also his biggest weak point. Whenever she is in danger or hurt, Tanizaki gets knocked off his balance and inner calm. These situations make him hastily jump into actions and due to this he becomes an easy target for others (e.g., when he attacked Higuchi out of anger, he didn’t notice Akutagawa; when he was about to kill Mori to save Fukuzawa, he tapped into Kouyou’s trap).

Even though this does not only concern Naomi’s well-being, as he has also been shown to make rush conclusions, if other people he cares about are in danger or in a predicament (e.g., when Fukuzawa was about to die due to cannibalism; offering to join PM as exchange instead of Yosano). His work as a detective on this aspect lets him also get regularly dragged into other people’s drama, either the drama of clients or the drama of other ADA members.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Sources: www.biddytarot.com | www.thetarotguide.com | https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Major_Arcana

[rufousnmacska]

Only You

A manorian arranged marriage fic from an anon request -

Do you think you could write an angsty manorian drabble where political/royal pressures and such has Dorian marry someone else + Dorian being mortal has Manon encouraging him? just all that manorian heartbreak+pining. also really love your fics!

This turned into much more than a drabble, but I hope everyone enjoys it! 🤗

Many thanks to @itach-i for beta reading and helping plot things out! ❤️

*

PART ONE

*

Dorian hadn’t noticed the cold until his valet wrapped a furred robe around him. How long had he been standing out here? The sun had just broken from the horizon and his breath was pooling in front of him with each exhale. The valet, a gray-haired man named Ruben, disappeared back into the royal suite, muttering something about the foolishness of young men. Dorian smiled grimly, knowing he was indeed foolish. Worse. He was a godsdamned idiot. And he felt numb, as though his body was somewhere far from here, his mind with it. None of it was due to the winter chill. Staring off towards the hills west of Rifthold, his eyes glanced over the many red and gold banners attached to the city’s roofs, snapping in the wind. Part of him loved seeing his people so excited, so proud for the coming celebration. They’d suffered greatly during the war and had worked hard in the rebuilding effort of the last two years. But that small joy for his kingdom was overshadowed by his own despair. How many times had he stood in this spot, watching and waiting and holding his breath until he caught sight of those silvery wings and moon white hair dancing in the sky? He’d known today would be his last chance to watch for her. And since sleep was a fool’s hope, he’d come out to his balcony and stood here for hours, his gaze on the west, wondering where it had all gone wrong.

***

The rising sun shone brightly off the tops of the castle towers, giving the small group of witches their first real view of Rifthold in the distance. In the past, this sight would leave Manon breathless with anticipation, pushing Abraxos to speed up in her excitement. There had been times when her giddy desperation to reach the castle was almost humiliating, forcing her to contain her emotions before she landed. But no matter her control in those moments, Dorian would greet her on his balcony with a ferocious embrace, seeing right through her mask. He always had. Now, Manon wished that truth away, pushing it deep down, along with the nausea roiling in her gut. As they drew nearer to Rifthold, she could just barely make out the decorations hanging from the castle. It almost brought up the meager breakfast she’d eaten not long ago. With the brightening sky, she realized the entire city was decked out, covered in colorful banners and garlands. Of course, a royal wedding demanded finery. She had expected it, guarded herself against it. But her expectations were dealt a swift blow by the reality now facing her. Manon was on her way to Dorian’s wedding. Not as the bride, but as a royal guest. And she had no one but herself to blame.

*****

Six months earlier…

Manon frowned as Abraxos landed on an unusually empty balcony. Though she’d never asked for it, the space had been rebuilt to provide a large enough area to comfortably hold a wyvern. Wrapping halfway around the king’s tower, the balcony offered magnificent views of the ocean to the east and the mountains to the west. As she dismounted, Manon realized that vast western view was what gave Dorian the ability to know she was almost there. Normally, she wouldn’t notice the view because he would be there, scooping her up and taking her inside to say hello in her favorite ways. But tonight, she and Abraxos were alone.

Quietly, so as not to startle Ruben, Manon stepped through the doorway. She needn’t have bothered. The bedroom was as empty as the outside and she heard no sounds coming through the door to the other rooms. Wondering if he hadn’t received her last message telling him when to expect her, Manon sat on a sofa to wait. She lasted less than five minutes before pacing around the room, then finally deciding to go in search of Dorian.

The office was empty and as she continued through to the exterior door, Manon rolled her eyes at the messy desk. How Dorian managed to keep everything straight in the piles and stacks of papers was beyond her. She wasn’t in the corridor long before she heard angry voices echoing up the stairway. Chaol and Dorian had stopped part way up the tower.

“You can’t afford to just dismiss this threat of rebellion. Lord Frey is an ass, but he has the ear of too many other nobles to be ignored.” Chaol sounded winded. Manon didn’t think he came up here very often since his mobility was tied to his wife’s magic. That he was here now to continue this conversation was significant.

“I refuse to give into his demands,” Dorian growled. “He complains about me leaving the kingdom to Erawan, and yet he brags about how he profited from the war. Whatever gold he has in his coffers did not come from me.”

Manon inched back to the door on silent feet. She knew Dorian’s lords were causing trouble, but he’d refused to go into detail about it with her. The thought of anyone claiming Dorian had willfully abandoned Adarlan to Erawan made her blood boil. The valg king and his armies had left a path of scorched earth and devastation on his march to Terrasen. And Dorian had spent the last two years of his life dedicated to rebuilding his kingdom.

Chaol sighed. “Yes, but what he’s proposed in exchange—”

“What he’s proposed will not be considered,” Dorian interrupted. It was a voice Manon had never heard from him.

After a long pause, Chaol continued. “I know how you feel, Dorian. But we need to put emotions aside and think this through. I’m not saying we go along with it. But right now, we have to look at every option.”

“You say ‘we’ as if you would be the one marrying his daughter.”

Manon gasped, covering her mouth to remain quiet.

“It would be a political alliance,” Chaol reasoned. “You wouldn’t have to end things with—”

Again, Dorian refused to let him finish. “Stop. I’ve told you my decision. We will find some other way to placate the rebellious lords. I am not marrying her.”

Soft footsteps punctuated by the clack of a cane sounded as Chaol left his king and descended the tower. When he was gone, she heard Dorian smash his fist into the stone wall, pieces of mortar crumbling and raining down onto the floor. Manon was paralyzed, her hands balled up into tight fists, eyes wide. And that was how Dorian found her when he took the final steps up to his suite.

***

“You misunderstood. Frey doesn’t have enough clout to demand such a thing.” Dorian was frantic, spending the last two hours trying to explain away what Manon had heard. But her face had frozen into a mask, nothing he said could tease out even the slightest reaction.

“You can’t be so flippant,” she said, the stony resolve in her voice starting to scare him. “He’s offered you an out from civil war. If you care about your kingdom, you must do it.”

He was going mad. First Chaol, now Manon. Where was Yrene to talk some sense into them? He cared about his kingdom and his people. He cared so much that he had no life whatsoever beyond the endless meetings and negotiations and squabbles. His sole joy in life was standing before him now arguing that he should marry someone else.

“If I care?” he asked. “I was prepared to die for it. On many occasions. I would gladly give my life. But I won’t give my heart.”

Manon blinked slowly, and he realized she was looking past him. “You once told me you were prepared to give up your throne for Sorscha. Then the war taught you how foolish, how childish that was. And now, as if you learned nothing, sacrificed nothing, you want to do the same thing. Your life and your heart are one in the same.” Finally, her golden eyes met his. “I am immortal. You are not. You need a human queen to give you heirs and unite your kingdom. I will not play a part in disrupting that.”

Dorian searched for any sign - an unshed tear, a twitch of her lips, a clenched jaw. But there was nothing. Nothing on her face except a cold certainty that left him feeling lost, alone. He knew this was an act, a means of protecting herself. And yet, she was right. When they’d parted ways in Orynth after the war, he’d ignored the desire to ask her for some sort of commitment beyond “We’ll see.” They both had countries to rebuild and had chosen that greater responsibility over personal wishes. Dorian told himself then that they had time. Yes, he was a mortal. But he still had a plentiful well of raw magic on which to draw upon, magic that would give him a much longer life than a normal human. And only two short years later, out of nowhere, everything was falling apart.

No, he would not let his people suffer through war again. But giving in to extortion was not an acceptable alternative. He thought of Aelin, wondering how she would handle a situation like this. With the way her people adored her, he knew she’d never reach this point. Maybe Frey and his allies were right. Maybe he’d left them to fend for themselves out of cowardice instead of prudence. Suddenly, Dorian was exhausted, tired of being king, tired of giving up everything he wanted. He rubbed his eyes until they were red

“You know it has to be this way,” she said, having watched him sort out his thoughts. “No matter what they claim, you’ve never once abandoned this kingdom. Which is why you won’t do it now.”

Dorian stared at the ground, grasping for a way out, but his mind felt like aspic, soft and muddled and useless. “I won’t be a king who takes a queen and still keeps a lover.” The ultimatum was hard to voice, but it was true. Despite his rakish history, he’d never taken a new lover without breaking things off with the old one. If ever an exception was to be made, it would be with Manon. But he would never disrespect her, a queen in her own right, by reducing her to a secret paramour and source of castle gossip.

Still stoic, she replied, “I would not expect you to.”

They had always pushed and teased each other, seeing which one would break first and admit their feelings or give in to the desire. Desperately hoping that they were playing that game now, he surrendered. “I want you, Manon. No one else.”

The slightest hitch in her breathing and a tiny flutter of her eyes sent his hope soaring. But, with a firm tone that meant she would say no more, Manon said, “Marry her, Dorian. Save your throne and keep your people from more bloodshed.”

Before he could respond, she walked out the door and climbed into the saddle still strapped to her wyvern. Manon was in the air without a look back, and Dorian sank to the ground, his head in his hands.

*****

Rumors were flying through the witch city faster than the most agile wyverns. Mere months ago, the witches had expected an announcement from their queen, happy news that their kingdom would be united with Adarlan. Some were not in favor of their queen marrying a human, king or not. Others, especially those in the queen’s council, saw it as a good match. A love match, they claimed. But now, after the royal messenger from Adarlan had arrived, the gossip was spinning out of control.

Manon stared at the thick envelope sealed with red and gold wax, the wyvern stamped into it watching her with a single mocking eye. Dorian had once laughed about how significant it was for his royal crest to include a wyvern, a connection forged between their two kingdoms before they had even met. She’d brushed the thought away at the time, rolling her eyes at his insistence that fate was at work. But now, the memory of his teasing voice sank into her chest, adding to the heaviness and pain that had been choking her since she’d left him on that balcony months ago.

“You don’t have to go. No one would fault you for it. We can send Petrah as a representative,” Glennis said, her voice stiff and formal. It was a tone usually relegated for council meetings, not a conversation with her granddaughter.

She was silent for a long moment, still looking at the envelope. Instead of answering, Manon picked it up and ripped apart the seal. The invitation was written in fanciful blue ink with a border of red berries and ivy stamped into the parchment. She frowned at the flowery words that matched the design, knowing the girl must have been behind all of it. The girl. Manon knew she was likely close to Dorian’s age, but she didn’t care. The future queen of Adarlan would forever be the girl in her mind. Even so, it was impossible to miss her name in elegant calligraphy.

Your presence is requested at the royal wedding of Lady Eveline Frey and His Majesty Dorian Havilliard II, King of Adarlan

Manon stopped reading at his name and continued to flip through the remaining pages. They contained notices of the pre-wedding events that the ‘happy couple’ hoped people would attend, despite the possibility of poor weather at that time of year.

Happy. Her eyes caught on that word and didn’t move. She knew it was a lie. And yet, her old doubts and fears flooded back into her mind. She was still heartless despite her efforts to change, he deserved someone who could sufficiently return his affections. She was immortal, he was not. Manon had reasoned that she would rather lose him like this than watch up close as he aged and died. Rather lose him now, when they could both move on to full lives, than be forced to somehow carry on after his death. A magically extended life or not, she could see no other scenario if she continued with him. And if that was truly how she felt, then she wanted to be there and show him they were both better off this way.

Glennis watched her, likely reading every thought that had gone through her head. For when Manon said she was going, her grandmother’s head dipped in resignation. “Then I will accompany you.”

Manon lost count of her attempts at crafting a reply. She began with a simple list of witches who would attend with her, which morphed into a long drawn out explanation of why she wanted to be there. Then she backtracked into a brief, two sentence response. And even then, she had to make several copies until one was legible. The anguish of what she faced kept showing itself in her shaking hand.

Her eyes keep going back to their names and she found herself wondering what the girl was like. Did she like to read? Could she fight with a sword? Would she stand up to the nobility who claimed Dorian was not worthy of his throne? How would she react to him waking up screaming in the middle of the night from a nightmare in which he’d been torturing people?

That last thought made her feel sick. Not because of the dreams that still plagued him - she was well versed in helping to comfort him, just as he knew how to ease her grief and fear after a nightmare. It was the idea that they’d be sharing a bed that turned her stomach.

Gods what was she thinking? There were two months until the wedding. Was that long enough to forget everything Dorian was to her?

Manon knew the answer. And yet, when she read over their names again, she made herself remember why things had to be this way. Adarlan could not survive another war, especially one which tore it apart from the inside out. This was for the best. His and hers. This wedding would be closure, and afterwards, she could move on, search for a suitable consort. Not to become her king. She could not bear seeing anyone else beside her in that capacity. But finding an acceptable male to produce an heir would help to stabilize her kingdom. If Dorian was forced to set aside his heart to help his people, then she would do the same.

When she gave the reply to Glennis later, her grandmother frowned. “I find myself not wanting to send this.”

“It will be us and two sentinels. That’s all,” Manon said, ignoring the witch’s reluctance. “We will arrive the day before and leave immediately after the ceremony.” As Glennis nodded in agreement, Manon noticed she held a royal envelope in her other hand. “What is that?”

Again, that frown. “It’s from Prince Fennick Whitethorn of Doranelle. A cousin of Rowan’s I believe.”

“Was he in Orynth?” She didn’t recall him being there, but her memories from those early days battling Erawan’s army were foggy.

“I don’t think he was.”

Manon took it, examining front and back. The wax seal matched that of Queen Sellene Whitethorn. “What could this be?” she wondered aloud.

Glennis was already walking away, but she turned and said sharply, “I can only imagine.”

Manon was glad she waited until she was alone to read it, for by the end of it, she was sitting motionless, the letter forgotten on the floor.

Prince Fennick Whitethorn, a cousin to both Rowan and Queen Sellene, had written to express his regards and dismay at the news that the King of Adarlan would marry a noble from his own kingdom. He’d felt compelled to write her directly, offering her his support and friendship since he’d experienced something similar a few hundred years before. As Doranelle’s representative at the festivities, he hoped they could meet in Rifthold. In not so veiled terms, he suggested they might establish an alliance of their own, one that would be amenable to both their countries.

Mere hours after speculating about taking a consort and here she was, staring at a proposal. She couldn’t decide between outrage or amazement at the audacity of the fae male. It had certainly taken balls to approach her this way. And at this time. Picking up the letter, she read it over again. From the sounds of it, Fennick had been left heartbroken in his past. A past that extended even further back than her own. Had she not used her own immortality as a reason that Dorian should wed another? Here was an immortal throwing himself at her, eager for alliance. But she wondered if his interest would wane when he was told that at best, he might become her consort. There was only one man who she’d accept as her king, and he was now outside her reach.

She decided not to send a reply. If the fae prince was there, she would meet with him, see what kind of male he was and whether he might bring anything of worth to an alliance. If not, it would be one less thing to worry about.

That night, as she tried and failed to fall asleep, Manon found herself imagining how she might say goodbye to Dorian. They never used the word, choosing instead to focus only on their hellos. It made a twisted sort of sense that this goodbye, this parting that would be permanent, would be the first and last time it was spoken between them.

***

Yrene found Dorian in his office, watching the brutal winter winds send snow whipping through the air outside his window. Judging from her expression, she knew why he’d sent for her. When her eyes went to the letter on his desk, her shoulders seemed to slump, and she sat down heavily across from him.

“She will be attending,” he said, pushing the short reply across the desk in case she wanted to read it. After immediately recognizing the handwriting as Manon’s, he’d stared at it for a long time. As if there might be some sign of hesitation on her part, he’d examined the note, his eyes running over each stroke of ink, again and again. It was flawless. Just like her, he’d thought miserably.

“I didn’t think she’d actually come. It was meant as a formality between two allies.”

“Perhaps that’s why she has agreed. Formality, nothing more,” Yrene offered.

“How do you think Eveline will handle it?” Despite a wedding date only a few weeks away, Dorian barely spoke to his future queen. Yrene had been acting as a go between, keeping Dorian from having to feign pleasantries and interest in someone who he’d claimed looked and acted like an empty doll.

“She has been trained as a courtier since birth. I’m sure she will be as polite and ladylike as she always is.” Yrene rose and came around the desk, standing in front of the window to make Dorian look at her. “She may appear timid and vapid in front of her father, but she is no fool. She knows what this arrangement is and why it’s happening. Your involvement with Manon was never much of a secret. Eveline knows she is not your choice. But like you, she is doing her duty.”

Dorian didn’t reply. He knew his opinion of her was misguided, that it was based on anger at the situation, at her father. Which was why he kept his distance. If he couldn’t keep himself in check in private or with his friends, how could he expect to refrain from unleashing his rage on her with hurtful words? At least, that’s what he told himself. It was true, but some part of him knew that if he gave in and spent time with her, it would make this all the more real.

Yrene’s eyes darkened as she said, “Lord Frey has a reputation to match Chaol’s father. With her mother gone, I suspect Eveline has not had much control over her life. This would be nothing new to her.”

Now fully ashamed of himself, Dorian only nodded. If there was anything he could understand, it was not being able to defy a bullying parent. A new sense of sympathy filled him as he wondered how desperate Eveline must be for a new life. Freedom from an abusive father would be worth the heavy responsibilities and loss of privacy that came with being a queen. Maybe it was time to make an effort. He couldn’t envision a future where he would ever develop actual feelings for Eveline. But he could at least become her friend.

“What else have you learned about her?” he asked.

Yrene shrugged. “Her education has been extensive, and she knows much about the court and how it runs. She enjoys art and music, embroidery …” She trailed off, trying to think of any other attributes worth sharing. “Horse riding. She always seems to be coming back from the stables when I see her. I’ve gotten the impression her father does not approve of that hobby, but she maintains that being a good horsewoman befits a true lady.”

“So, she does disobey him then …” Dorian smiled slightly, recalling how he used to rebel against his parents. Horse riding was much less scandalous. “Does she need any help with the wedding plans?”

The suddenness of his change in tone had Yrene blinking at him. “I don’t believe so. But I can ask her.”

Dorian stood and walked towards the door. He knew if he didn’t start now, he never would. “I will go ask. I’d like to recommend some music.”

“Wait,” Yrene cried, trailing him out into the corridor. When she caught up to him, she asked, “What are you doing?”

The fear in her eyes almost made Dorian turn around and forget his pledge of moments ago to try and accept this. Yrene had always been the biggest supporter of his relationship with Manon. Whether she was helping them arrange a short, secret escape from their duties, or using her sharp tongue to tear down any detractors of the Witch Kingdom, or giving him advice on how to help Manon recover from the loss of her coven … Yrene had always been there. And now, for the first time, it seemed to be sinking in for her that what she had dreamed for her friends – a happily ever after to rival what she had with Chaol – was impossible. It pained Dorian to see it and he pulled her into a hug.

“If there was another way, Yrene, I’d do it. You know that.”

She hugged him back fiercely, her voice shaking as she said, “I know. She is my friend too, Dorian. And I don’t want to lose her.”

Gods, Dorian thought his heart couldn’t break anymore. And here it was, cracking into even more fragments, each time becoming smaller and smaller. “I know.”

Yrene backed away and let loose a string of curses and insults about Lord Frey that left his eyes wide and mouth agape. He’d never heard her speak like that before, had never thought her capable of such filthy language.

Before she could think to apologize, he laughed. “Well said, Lady!”

Red with embarrassment, Yrene burst into laughter too. When they’d both regained their composure, she said, “Come. I’ll walk with you to Eveline’s rooms and catch you up on her wedding plans.”

“Thank you,” he said, and meant it. “She is as much a pawn in this game as anyone, and she doesn’t deserve my animosity.”

Yrene nodded. “As much as I hate to admit it, she’s a perfectly lovely young woman. It makes things worse in a way.”

When they reached her rooms, Yrene led him inside.

“Your Majesty,” Eveline said brightly. Her dark hair matched her eyes and she gave him a beaming smile. “I was not expecting you today.” She was going through a stack of replies to the invitations.

“Please, call me Dorian. I insist,” he said. “I have one more to add.” Slowly, as if not wanting to give it up, he handed her Manon’s reply. He and Yrene both watched her carefully as she read it.

With the same smile as before, Eveline said, “I’m so pleased the Witch Queen will be attending. None of your other royal friends are able to come due to the weather. Though Doranelle is sending someone.” She paused, thinking. “I can’t remember his name.”

As the two women went through the replies and spoke quietly, Dorian pretended to listen. For one terrible moment, he wondered what the word princeling might sound like from Eveline’s mouth. The thought felt blasphemous, leaving him spinning and trapped between two worlds: the reality sitting next to him, this perfectly lovely woman for whom he felt nothing, and a dream world where he’d wake up happy each morning to snow white hair and golden eyes. A dream that had slipped through his fingers, like the wind gusting wildly outside.

Perfectly lovely. Eveline was lovely, and perfect, with exquisite manners, an impeccable wardrobe, and a distinguished education. But despite that loveliness and perfection, he knew without a doubt that his feelings towards Eveline would never come close to what he felt for Manon. Manon was his mirror, his equal. If beings other than fae were able to have true mates, she would be his.

The thought struck him like a dagger, straight to whatever bits of his heart yet remained. Shaking his head, Dorian tried not to think of Manon, of how this next visit for the wedding would likely be her last. Tried not to dwell on how he would have to live the rest of his life without her, his mate in every way that counted.

Of course, he failed. And when Eveline asked him about what music he’d prefer, Dorian used every ounce of strength he had left to force a smile on his face and answer.

To be continued...

***

Thanks for reading! You can find my writing master list here or on AO3.

It’s been a while since I’ve written and I’m not sure who all is still out there. So if I missed you, or you’d like to be tagged/removed for parts two and three, let me know.

@itach-i @bookishwitchling @manontrashbeak @awesomelena555 @jimetg98 @over300books

[lightrises]

"Only in allowing her to pass..." — Hornet, The Radiance, and the means by which Hallownest turned its victims against each other

A quick note: I read Hollow Knight as an anti-colonialist text. As such I'll be touching on topics related to colonialism as it's depicted in the world of the game, and said analysis will reflect both a sympathetic take on The Radiance and a critique of The Pale King that won't pull its punches. If this sounds up your alley, hello and thank you for the read! Let us be sad about these bugs together.

———

So!! A while back I realized something about pre-canon that felt rather... "curious" is one way to put it, I think. To wit: for all the effort and scheming and determination The Pale King poured into trying to get rid of The Radiance, neither of his plans involved directly killing her.

Was that his long game? Well, sure, that seems clear enough. His tack changed from luring the moths away from their god and creator to a more literal form of incarceration once the infection became a factor, but at its core the end goal never really changed—The Pale King very sincerely wished to destroy Radiance via obsolescence. The Seer lends us foreshadowing to confirm as much:

[Image descriptions: Two screenshots from Hollow Knight, showing the Seer and Ghost in the Seer's alcove at the Resting Grounds. Across both screenshots, the Seer tells Ghost the following: "None of us can live forever, and so we ask those who survive to remember us. Hold something in your mind and it lives on with you, but forget it and you seal it away forever. That is the only death that matters." End description.]

(Which, by the way and given the context, talk about an extremely unsubtle allusion to cultural genocide huh!!! Whew.)

In any case, we're left with a whole bunch of machinations which build up to... well, two very roundabout attempts at committing deicide. That's kind of weird, all things considered! Why not just do the deed in one fell swoop and get it over with?

This could be for any number of reasons. Maybe the king was devoid of the means to instantly kill another higher being. Maybe his personal sense of scruples stopped him short of signing off on MURDER murder (although, y'know, the aforementioned genocide + eternal imprisonment = still cool and copasectic apparently!). Maybe the long drawn-out cruelty was the point. Maybe the idea of playing fuckign 4D chess with the circumstances was too delicious for him to pass up—that man did love to tinker and stick his claws where they sure as hell didn't belong—or maybe it was a little bit of All The Things. Who knows!!

But interrogating The Pale King's methodology on this count isn't what I'm here for, at least not really. The main reason I raise this question at all is that in her own way, Hornet did too.

"I'd urge you to take that harder path... "

See, going by The Pale King's actions and what The White Lady explicitly says, they both foresaw two outcomes wrt the infection: it can be allowed to spread, or it can be contained. At Teacher's Archives, Quirrel acknowledges the fact that Ghost is expected to do... something about this, but he doesn't elaborate on what HE thinks that's supposed to be apart from the obvious "Gotta bust into Black Egg Temple first". Hornet is the one person who presents to us—to Ghost—what's framed as a third option: confront and destroy the infection at its source.

And she doesn't bring it up like it's just another tactic for Ghost to consider, prim and indifferent to what they would do. She nudges them towards it, actively, up to the point where she throws herself into the fray against Hollow at a juncture that's uniquely dangerous to her and her alone just to make that option feasible.

Even when she's couching it in disclaimers that this is still Ghost's decision to make (and let's be fair, she's extremely not wrong about that lol), no one can pretend Hornet is unbiased. It's obvious in that buttoned-down Hornet kind of way that she is way the hell done with the increasingly tenuous stalemate that's kept Hallownest's desiccated corpse from collapsing in on itself. Personally it's hard for me not to read some Toriel Undertale-esque "My father was too entrenched in his own foolishness to pursue any course of action that would have DEFINITIVELY ended this" shade into her stance here, regardless of whether that's strictly true in canon.

And that bit—Hornet's hopes for an end to Hallownest's stasis, moreover her grim calculation of what needs to be done to get there—that's the bit I find super interesting but likewise tragic and depressing as shit, on multiple levels. In no small part because a) canon itself gestures towards Hornet feeling conflicted about the very plan she's pushing, and moreover b) she has at least two (2) damn good reasons to feel that way.

So, what do I mean by that? Let's look here first:

[Image description: A screenshot from Hollow Knight, of Hornet and Ghost inside the Temple of the Black Egg, standing in front of the unsealed egg itself. Hornet has been struck by the Dream Nail and her dialogue is displayed as follows: "... Could it achieve that impossible thing? Should it?" End description.]

As the curtain is about to drop on things one way or another, Hornet thinks,

... Could it achieve that impossible thing? Should it?

Now, looking at that last bit it's easy to go "Oh no, Hornet's worried that Ghost won't survive killing The Radiance!" And I do think that's part of it: Hornet is, categorically, not her father. By endgame it's clear she's not content to view her Void-borne siblings as tools to be used then disposed of. She's also well aware that as a healthy autonomous Vessel amongst the countless dead, Ghost is the only person left alive who has a fighting chance against The Radiance. Knowing someone is the only qualified candidate for the job doesn't make encouraging them to embrace a probable death sentence any less of a bitter pill to swallow, though. And odds are on that this sentiment extends to Hollow too, who IS going to die no matter what happens here. To put it bluntly, it's more than reasonable to conclude that Hornet hates the absolute fuck out of this.

But I don't think that's all there is to it either. Remember what I said earlier about The Pale King's bids for genocide? Well, it's not like the man deigned to limit his efforts to just the moth tribe.

"We do not choose our mothers... "

On top of everything else—an infected Hallownest being all she's ever known, the fact that she only exists because of the infection, the list goes on—Hornet has spent her life wedged into a position that's been uncomfortable and terminally unglamorous at best: she is both a daughter of her father's kingdom and of Deepnest.

Deepnest, which like the moths and many others was here long before the wyrm and his lady wife swanned onto the scene and the God Become Bug laid claim to everything the Light touched plus a considerable amount of change. THAT Deepnest, which has fought claw and thread to retain its sovereignty against same-said settler king, and for which Herrah not only surrendered her life but also agreed to bed her worst enemy, all in hopes of securing a viable future for her people (put a pin in that last part by the way, I'll come back to it soon).

Two Worlds, One Family (Ft. An Indigenous Woman Trying Her Damndest To Work With What She's Got Versus An Imperialist Who Only Signed Up For This Because He Needed The Political Favor THAT Badly, So It's The Height Of Dysfunctional Actually). Fun times!!!!

The baggage this entails for Hornet is gnarly enough without implications made by The White Lady and the pre-canon timeline of events and even Team Cherry's dev notes that the king may well have looked at baby Hornet, gone "YOINK", then ensured she spent the lion's share of her childhood reared within the pearly auspices of his Pale Court*. That would be rather advantageous for Him Specifically after all, the potential to mold a born foe into a future ally and even have her trained in combat under the same tutelage as her doomed sibling. And far be it from him to stop a grown Hornet—his own flesh and blood too!—from making Deepnest her forever home if she so pleased. He totally wouldn't be reneging on his "fair bargain made" by doing this one simple thing until Hornet came of age, not t e c h nic c a l l y.

If that is indeed the case, there's a non-zero chance Hornet's formative years were a hot mess of cultural alienation and being a good deal more privy than most to just how much of a bastard her father could be. There's an equally non-zero chance that at some point she stood or sat within earshot as The Pale King finally, finally dropped all pretense and euphemism to name the Light for precisely what (for who) it was.

See, in conjunction with the question that started this whole dang train of thought I've been asking this one too: Does Hornet know? When she speaks of confronting "the heart of [the] infection" does she know she's talking about not just a literal person but someone very specific? The Radiance, who god though she may be shares skin in the game alongside Hornet as a native woman screwed over by the same settler king, likewise deprived of her kin and saddled with a life gone horrendously pear-shaped?

I'll assume for the sake of exploring the possibility and because I think it's a likely one anyway that yes, Hornet does know. She knows, and despite everything can't help empathizing. She might even look at Radiance and see bits and pieces both reflected and slightly inversed in her own mother: Radiance was forced to the sidelines while her people—her children, the brood she was meant to lead and care for—died out under The Pale King's rule, and it's no stretch to assume she's at least as upset about that as she has been about everything else; Herrah too took drastic measures for her people's sake, trying to head off annihilation by relegating herself to the sidelines in an act that was as much calculated risk as an attempt to find wiggle room and leverage in the face of a nasty proposition.

A calculated risk that, if things continue as they are, might well amount to nothing as the rest of Deepnest gets eaten alive by the infection. It survived The Pale King's advances for so so long, only to fall here. Herrah's sacrifice would be for naught; the other tribes—themselves the king's victims—would keep succumbing to the infection too.

And this is where things fall apart.

"... or the circumstance into which we are born."

Let's be clear: I think Hornet is wise enough to know what's what here, that all the carnage and suffering falls on her father's head for starting this slow-motion trainwreck in the first place. Hallownest wasn't always Hallownest. This domain was Radiance's home first, along with many others. It was the worm-turned-king who rolled up on the scene unsolicited and decided this was a ""'problem""" that had to be """solved""".

But the fact of the matter is that he's gone and The Radiance is here, raging, seemingly inconsolable. Above and beyond being Deepnest's rightful heir, Hornet isn't in a position to countenance more splash damage even if the grief and fury fueling it makes perfect sense. She can understand without ever bringing herself to love Radiance, and she can bend her knee to practicality even if she hates the everloving shit out of it because the fact that it "has" to end this way isn't fair.

This lends itself to one last awful conclusion: that Hornet has probably considered and (rightly or wrongly) discarded the possibility that Radiance can be saved, at least not without dragging more collateral along for the ride. If even her mother and every other enemy to the king seemed to dismiss talking Radiance down as an option way back when... well. Why should Hornet hope for any better after things have escalated so far?

Again, it's practical. A practical net good is what Hornet strives for. And again, it fucking sucks.

For extra tragedy points, this makes Hornet's extended crypticness around Ghost followed by her last minute casting about for a reason to tell them "Wait, don't; not just yet" that she never voices even more of a gut punch. She can't bring herself to burden Ghost with the context that haunts her so, least of all when it might weaken their resolve to go through with what (she thinks) needs doing.

It's the "same song, different verse" which led to the mantis tribe and Deepnest being pitted against each other: Hallownest rigged the game so that two women who could have been powerful allies—who have a mutual vested interest in driving out settler rule—wound up poised as enemies instead. And how awful is that? The king for all his being extremely fucking dead still gets the last laugh, because outside of a miracle the game never manifests Hornet can salvage what her mother started and look forward to a future where Deepnest pulls itself back from the brink if and only if The Radiance dies.

Resolution comes at the price of a completed genocide. Add two more dead siblings to the unconscionable pile thereof, while we're at it. That's what it boils down to whether or not Hornet can bear to articulate it as such, and there's no grace or even a properly bittersweet ending to wring from this clusterfuck. And that is rough.

———

* This has been better explained elsewhere, but a quick rundown: The White Lady tells Ghost that Hornet and Herrah "were permitted little time together." On its surface this can be taken to mean that Hornet was still very young when Herrah was shipped off to Eternal Dreamland—except this doesn't jive with the fact that we meet Hornet as an adult. If the stasis kicked in once the Dreamers went to their rest, which in turn halted the aging process for every living bug in Hallownest, AND before all this Hornet experienced little by the way of quality time with her birth mother... I think you can see where I'm going with this.

To top it off we've got Team Cherry weighing in ominously from their dev notes on Herrah: "As part of the agreement for her alliance and her role as a dreamer, King gave her a child (Hornet). Was she allowed to keep this child or was she taken away?" This isn't confirmation by itself of course, but given additional canon details (see above): Can I get a "yikes" in the chat fellas.

[havetheavengersdoneanythingwrong]

Interlude — The Arrival of the Goddess

Times change, and with it, so do the gods.

“To try to make amends—“

It wasn’t ‘her’ that had done that. She understood that much.

But what ‘she’ did affected her as much as any other. Remembering the face of a man that wasn’t him, she overdid her job — and faced the cost for such foolishness.

There was something in the murky haze she spotted — something to support and grow.

She couldn’t walk back ‘her’ actions, but she could step forward and rebuild.

—

“I’m done with you! I never want to see you again!”

…

…Aah.

She found herself moving ‘home.’ Even if ‘home’ is more of a concept, to her.

She had ‘territory’ not far from here. Surely.

…

“…That was…”

‘Her.’

A ‘her’ that did something foolish. Repeatedly. Fear of family being hurt had undercut her ability to reason — had led to what appeared to now be her expulsion.

“…That’s what I’d get, being a minor goddess. Easier to kick me out.”

…Yet, that bitterness now felt hollowed. Certainly, there remained anger brewing — that she’d been tossed over the edge, despite doing it with good intentions.

“And more than that, these pantheons aren’t immune to cheating bastards. It’s more prevalent then ever.”

—

A man who wouldn’t stop wailing.

It was a horrible, cursed sound.

For his sins, she cursed his soul. She would not stop cursing him.

The wailing, she felt, was soulless. Irritated her. Enraged her.

She couldn’t forget that obnoxious cry.

—

Yet she couldn’t even blame that woman. Idealistic though Quetzacoatl was, she wasn’t the sort to be fooled so easily. More than that, she had failed many times over to understand where the pursuit should end.

…And yet, that wasn’t her.

That was ‘her.’ A copy, summoned and descended. A different ‘Tlazolteotl.’

…One tossed away all the same.

“…”

…Certainly, where she stood — at some ‘brink,’ a temple in a ‘somewhere’ no longer on Earth — she found herself remorseful.

Angry; enraged, even; but more than that, sorrowful.

…That was ‘her’ fault, ultimately. And that wouldn’t change.

“…And she’s too stubborn to go back on her word so easy.”

‘…As she should be.’

…Even with what had just happened, she had to commend Quetzalcoatl. The stubbornness she possessed made adultery impossible for her — nor forgiving those who tried.

…

“…Now what?”

…The sunset stop the ‘temple’ was beautiful. She took a seat, and gazed upon it, as steam began to rise.

Quetzalcoatl wasn’t unreasonable, but that was still ‘her.’ And Quetz was rarely one to exaggerate in her wording, even if angry.

She knew Quetzalcoatl well enough to know that. She was her sister.

…The rock that composed the temple… Despite all this time, it still scratched at her feet when she moved about. Her gaze moved from the sun to the ground she stood on — steam now surrounded it, but the basics now stayed the same.

…The people who made this temple, back then — piece, upon piece, to connect with the gods, to find forgiveness and partake in rituals to appease them.

‘Arrogant, the lot of them’ — those gods, who took the mantle of humanity’s saviours and protectors. Her sister felt as though she were the only one who hadn’t grown too used to their power — watching that god commit the very same sins she so furiously raged against only convinced her further, even as she levied curse after curse upon the wailing man.

—

“Please..! I didn’t..! I didn’t think, and..!”

…What was it with these Mayan gods and crying like fools?

That man — Chocl — was a fool.

He comes to her hoping for forgiveness for the most grave act of all.

A human was one thing. They were flawed; made mistakes; could recover.

But a god was above that. They had to be above that — they were the paragons Tlazolteotl was trying to help the people look up to.

To help the people become like them.

And the insult of approaching her now, failing the one task they were given, desperately wishing for her to bail him out for something he had no excuse for—

And the insult of approaching her now, a goddess of a pantheon that ran side-by-side with his, to beg for forgiveness that he had by no means earned. For the insult of a Mayan god approaching an Aztec goddess, for forgiveness she only offered humans.

“…You’re a damnable fool.”

The man looked upon her, his eyes widened with the sort of fear she almost loved to see. The fear of an adulterer facing their crimes — an adulterer she grew to respect, a higher-up, that she was now in charge of punishing.

He was better than this.

And he began to cry, yet again, in regret.

—Disgusting.

A disgusting man allowed himself into the pantheon, and made a fool of them all.

She raised her hand, forced it towards the weeping man — riddling his form, cursing him to weep, silently, as long as it would take to make up for such a foolish sin. As long as it would take to mend the heart of the brother whose wife he slept with, and loved.

…She would never allow the crying of a foolish adulterer to disgrace the pantheon ever again. Surely — she swore.

She would never place trust in these gods. Never again.

—

…And yet, here she was.

Viewing the people around her family so lowly, recalling that incident where even a god fell to those vices, she went overboard.

“…Damn you, me.”

…Another look down to the temple.

…People would repent here for their actions. She could even recall raising her curses on some she disavowed in similar locations.

The higher gods oversaw her actions, judged her every move, yet she still arrived to deliver that safety from the curse.

…

“…You appear to be in a pinch, Tlazolteotl.”

…

A familiar voice, behind her. The goddess of filth turned herself around slowly, facing another goddess.

A familiar, older woman. A blue band of woven fabric covered her chest, paired with a carefully-made silver and blue skirt, landing at her knees. Golden necklaces adorned her neck — golden cuffs on her lower arms.

“…Coatlicue.”

“My, you haven’t made an enemy again, have you?”

Coatlicue placed a hand to her cheek, her spare hand still at her side. Her icy blue eyes stared daggers into the opposing goddess; without hostility, only a kind curiosity.

“…It was a ‘me.’ After the previous incidents, I had been too cautious. Had gone overboard — harmed Quetzalcoatl, and her husband.”

“…Hmmm… A conundrum indeed, isn’t it?”

The woman sighed, and took a seat on the temple roof’s floor — steadying herself with a hand, resting the other on the ground.

“…Putting it lightly, yes. Damnit… I highly doubt I could even show my face around here for a while.”

“…Well… Moping about won’t help you.”

“I just got off the news. Forgive me for being a bit lost.”

…Tlazolteotl took a seat before Coatlicue, and breathed out a long sigh.

“…What do I do? That thickheaded sister of mine… I doubt she was exaggerating. Gods, she should at least know where I’m coming from, but…”

—

“Your intentions mean nothing when the result is hurting me!”

—

“…Damnit, couldn’t she have..?! Why did I..?!”

…The goddess of filth, perhaps from all the moisture in the air, didn’t notice she was crying — the goddess across from her only waited for a few seconds longer.

“…She prefers kindness, does she not? Kindness and heroics.”

…But Coatlicue’s words caused the woman’s eyes to shoot up.

“…You know as well as I do I can’t do that.”

“…I think you can, Tlazolteotl. There is more than just ‘her’ story — surely, you can find a different Master to help.”

The woman smiled, leaned back, as Tlazolteotl furrowed her brow.

“That’s impossible! Summoning a god is already next to impossible, and—“

“—It happened with Quetzalcoatl, one of the strongest of us. You are nowhere near her strength, no offence to you.”

…A period of silence befell the two, as the sun descended further. The darkness of night slowly overtook the atmosphere — the light atop the temple fading away.

“…How do I know I will find a Master the way she had? A Master as good as hers?”

…At this, the goddess only smiled.

“In time, you will find it. Time is far more subjective to us, my dear. I’m sure that you can redeem yourself before your sister’s return.”

“…”

“…Have some faith in humanity. Chocl may have broken the pedestal you placed those of us on — but not all have done as he has. I trust you have learned that the hard way.”

“…I’ll… try.”

The goddess faded, leaving Tlazolteotl alone.

“…That crying.”

…The woman furrowed her brow; and covered her ears.

It was raining again; wasn’t it?

“…Damn you, Chocl. In my foolishness to prevent another you… ‘I’ have landed myself here. Damn you.”

…And yet — a Master.

Someone she could try to help. Someone she could try to cooperate with to mend what she had broken.

…A possible…

…

“…What sort of Master would I want..?”

…The woman got to thinking. Surely, someone she could get to listen to her — but someone who wouldn’t indulge in vices. Someone who wouldn’t toss her in the field and kill her, and someone she did not have to curse.

…

“…Someone… normal.”

—

…In the Chaldea summoning room, a ruckus had commenced.

“—Y’know, that hurt like hell! Thank god I’m all gooey and all.”

At one end of the room, the haughty goddess of justice, Astraea — gazing at the other end of the room, containing a widely-grinning Ritsuka who had reformed into their orange-haired visage after being squished against a wall.

“You ought’a be careful with your tosses, Astraea! You might activate the summoning stuff.”

“Can it, Ritsuka. After thieving that cake from the Chaldea fridge, I won’t leave without justice being served!”

“—Really?! That’s what you took issue with?!”

The two went back and forth, as I slipped in — checking the camera feeds, I knocked on the Chaldea door before just walking in, just in time to see Astraea politely wave to me before running towards the other Master.

“I see it’s business as usual over here.”

“Yep—! Just your average throwing sessiOOHHOHOHO”—

—I had to quickly run backwards before Ritsuka crashed into me, as he instead crashed into something far worse in hindsight.

The summoning controls.

“…”

“…”

“Why did they make the ‘summon button’ this easy to accidentally press?”

“…Fucking mages.”

“Yeah, blame them. Not, uh, me.”

—And in a moment—

—

…Suddenly, the goddess felt a tug.

The tug originated from ‘somewhere.’ A ‘somewhere’ beyond her reach.

This was not what she knew — this was not what the Caster of her knew.

This was something else.

And yet, the odd still held curiosity to her — as the stone temple she stood on, illuminated by the morning sun, now suddenly became an all-encompassing vortex.

…Something this strange — surely, the way to regaining favour, restoring her sister’s faith in her, restoring her faith in others lay here.

If restoring the faith of her family required helping another — she would have to try.

She would most certainly be dead if she did not.

“…Here goes.”

—

In a moment, the summoning room was filled with steam.

Astraea, myself, and Ritsuka had to spend the first few second hacking our lungs out — coughing from the sudden increase of moisture, as the technology threatened to fizzle out under the less-than-amicable environment.

But among the haze, the figure of a beautiful woman, with piercing green eyes and a gaze that may even put Kiara to shame.

“…It appears I have been summoned, at last. I suppose this is my chance at setting things right.”

…The haze cleared, slightly. A woman clad in black and red, who approached Ritsuka — looked them up and down, and then moved to me.

Her eyes looked through me, as though dissecting me with her mind — taking in every feature, before leaning in with a mischievous grin.

“…Hm… Perhaps I may like this more than I thought. I am Tlazolteotl, the goddess of steam baths, among other things. I’ll be in your care, Master~ ♡”

[kyouxa]

Diabolik lovers Chaos Lineage: Shu Sakamaki (Story 13)

In terms of the gameplay: The black choices lead up to a bad ending, the white choices lead up to a good ending. Please no reposting onto other sites, ask me before translating this into another language too!

Monologue

A true state of emergency has come over us. Both families, Violet and Orange, aimed for us at the same time.

However, the battle between us has temporarily stopped because of Violet and Orange’s members suddenly being put to sleep by Shu-san’s unexpected entry.

Although Ayato-kun and everyone else still don’t have their memories back, once they wake up they might try to attack us again.

Luckily Shu-san tied them all up, and then continued to roll them down to leave them in the living room for the time being.

Place: Scarlet mansion — Living room

Ayato: …..

Yui: (Ayato-kun, even in his current state he’s able to sleep soundly…)

Reiji: Even if they would be to wake up, they would not be able to cause trouble.

Yui: T-That‘s right.

(Even though they came here for a household search, it was quite easy to tie them up and make them unable to do anything once waking up again…)

By the way, what about Yuma-kun?

Shu: I carried him to my room. He’s probably still comfortably sleeping in my bed as we speak.

The others might just end up being confused with him being here anyway. With this, there’s no need to wake him up yet.

Yui: ...But to be honest, I’m confused myself. Reiji-san seemed as if he knew Shu-san would come back at some sort of point.

To me, it came out like the both of you were having some sort of advanced meeting to set a timing for him to come back...

Shu: It was hard to stay silent about that. But as you already said, everything that happened has been arranged beforehand.

Yui: It was arranged?

Shu: Do you remember it? It was when Ruki attacked us and tried capturing you, the day I remembered everything.

That was also when I decided to get help by taking the opportunity to talk to Reiji.

Yui: Just the two of you? ...Ah.

So that’s why Reiji-san preached me not to stay in your room,  you didn’t want me to be able to listen to your plan—

That’s the only time I was taken out of your room, right?

Shu: Yes. On that day we—

*flashback starts*

Reiji: Well then? What is it that you wanted to talk alone about? Has your mind finally decided to be at least a little obedient now?

Shu: I want to ask you something before answering that. Do you somehow remember the name “Sakamaki”?

Reiji: Pardon? I have never heard of this before.

Shu: So it’s as I thought...

Monologue

I wanted to get back Reiji’s memories, which is why I tried revealing the truth to him.

The Sakamaki mansion. Ayato, Kanato, Laito and Subaru being our younger brothers and all about that.

However, Reiji didn’t even bother trying to listen properly to me once I started talking about it.

Place: Scarlet mansion — Shu‘s bedroom

Reiji: I was already wondering what you wanted to talk about, but for you to tell me such a joke instead...

Shu: This is not a lie or whatever. It’s the truth that you’re my younger brother. You’re the second eldest son of the Sakamaki family.

Reiji: It is impossible for me to believe you talking about such a foolish thing. Good grief, how ridiculous.

Shu: (I already expected it to be complicated… but it seems as if she really had a hard time trying to get me to remember, as well as I do right now)

(I thought there may be a way to regain someone‘s memories without them experiencing an intense shock…)

(I really didn‘t want to use the truth against him… but I have no other choice)

Say, Reiji… do you remember someone named Edgar?

Reiji: ...Edgar… ?

Shu: This used to be a human’s name. I knew him from olden days, and you’ve met him as well.

*weird sound*

Reiji: Kch… Nn… why… my vision, ngh…

Shu: That guy was very close and dear to me. But one day, the village he lived in was burned down.

And he himself jumped into the flames—

Say, Reiji. You can‘t have forgotten about that, isn’t that right?

The one who burned down Edgars village… that was you.

Reiji: ….. !

Shu: You’ve been jealous of me, the eldest son of the Sakamaki family… and because of that jealousy, you’ve burned down Edgar’s innocent village.

Reiji: That is wrong! I am… the eldest son of this mansion… Nn.

Shu: Remember them… the sins you’ve committed.

You’ve gone made because of pure jealousy, and that’s why you burned him down, Reiji…!

Reiji: Kch… Ngh… Ahhh.

*weird sound*

Reiji: Haa… Haa...

Shu: And? Did you remember everything now?

Reiji: Yes… I have remembered… good grief… what a drastic measure of treatment...

Shu: ...I honestly couldn’t think of another way to phrase it.

I had no other choice, but in order to have you regain your memories, I needed to talk about this.

Reiji: It is fine with me… owing to your actions, all of my memories have successfully turned back.

Shu: I have no intention of continuing this absurd fighting we’re supposed to participate in anymore. But I’ll need you to help me with that, Reiji.

I need you to cooperate with me, in order to return everyone back to normal—

*flashback ends*

Yui: That means, Reiji-san’s memories returned back to him ever since that day happened!?

Reiji: Exactly. I must excuse myself from saying nothing about it until now.

Besides, I must have been a bother ever since I lost sight of myself in this space. To you… and to Shu.

Yui: Not at all… I’m just really happy Reiji-san finally returned back to normal. I’m really, really happy about this… !

Reiji: It appears as if you are not holding onto the difficulties, I must have cause with acting delighted. Despite that, I will inquire to make up for my actions.

Yui: You don’t need to repay us with anything. All of this happened to us because of someone confusing our memories, so you haven’t done anything wrong.

Reiji: ...I see. Well then, I truly am charmed by your kind words and will certainly do as you wish. I will do so for the sake of keeping focus on finding a resolution to this situation.

Yui: Ah… and here I believed the both of you really had a huge fight going on.

Shu: That was part of Reiji’s strategy. We did so to ascertain deeper into our investment.

The part of me leaving and the fight the both of us had, it was all included in our play.

Yui: I think I understand now...

I’ve never felt so relieved till now… I truly believed the relationship between you would always have its discrepancy.

Shu: It’s not as if we’re going to treat each other nicely because of that now.

Reiji: I at least can only agree on that relating point.

Yui: A-Ah...

(Nevertheless, they still decided to cooperate with each other to come to a conclusion)

(Thinking about that, it looks as if the entire Sakamaki family is completely gathered in this mansion now. Is that also because of Shu-san?)

Ayato: Nn… Hmm...

Yui: By the way, what kind of a bomb did you throw at Ayato-kun back then in the hallway?

You said something like if you start inhaling the pollen, you’ll be put into a sudden sleep...

Shu: I was told this is a simplicity bomb that contains a hypnotism effect. Reiji has made this one with materials from the provision.

Yui: (A-As it expected from Reiji-san…)

Shu: I received it from him right after pretending to leave the mansion. Just shortly afterwards I’ve been hiding myself nearby the mansion.

Yui: Thereupon you must’ve known Ayato-kun and the others were about to show up to attack the mansion...

Choices

1) I wanted you to tell me about it (black)

2) That was an amazing strategy (white) ♡ ♡ ♡

— I wanted you to tell me about it

Yui: I wanted you to tell me about your plan though. Did you know how awfully worried I was about you?

Shu: Sorry about that. But you wouldn‘t have stayed silent if I told you about it, would you? Just looking at your expressions would reveal it all.

Yui: Uhh… it might’ve been the right choice not to inform me about anything of the plan after all…

Shu: Thought so. Your selfish facial expressions are always the most unusual ones.

Yui: Please stop looking at me like that.

(If he continues to intriguingly stare at my face as he has done until now, I’ll seriously start to feel awkward…)

— That was an amazing strategy ♡

Yui: That was an amazing strategy. You must’ve put a lot of time and consultation in thinking about it.

Shu: This has been Reiji’s strategy too. His abilities have been the reason why I wanted to be able to pull him into my plan.

Yui: Seems as if you put a lot of trust into Reiji-san.

Shu: Don’t start joking around. There was no other way but to put at least some faith into him.

Yui: (I-I guess I’ll have to wait until he completely admits it)

(But I shouldn’t tell him yet. I still want him to continue believing in Reiji-san, at least a little)

*Shu comes closer*

Shu: After all, you’re the number one person I’d always put my trust into first… Nn…

*Shu kisses Yui*

Yui: Nn… !?

W-Why did you just kiss me!?

Shu: All you talked about was Reiji and more Reiji, so I shut you up.

Yui: Please don’t let yourself get overwhelmed by jealousy again… !

end Choices

Ayato: Nn...

Yui: Ah!

Reiji: It seems like you have finally woken up.

Ayato: Ah!? What’s this!?

Kanato: Why have my hands been tied together? I can’t move like this.

Subaru: Shit… untie me right now!

*Subaru struggles*

Yui: Everyone calm down, please! The circumstances we’re in right now...

Laito: Looks as if we’re done for now. Maybe this was a plan to catch all of us from the very beginning?

Ayato: Are you serious? Does that mean the letter we all got was strange after all?

Laito: Well, it might’ve been so.

Ayato: Fuck, then it must’ve been those assholes who sent the letter! What a cowardice move!

Reiji: No, we have not taking part in writing this letter.

Yui: Eh? But I genuinely thought you send it for the sake of getting Ayato-kun and everyone together too...

Shu: That’s not it. Having Ayato and everyone else come here to start a raid was as unexpected for us as it was for you.

I instead started to pretend leaving, in order to set a trap to discover what kind of a person the one planing this secession is.

Yui: W-What do you mean by that?

Shu: Didn’t I talk to you about it? The mastermind behind this entire messing up our memories situation must be lurking around somewhere in this place.

I already expected them to start moving once I disappeared. But I’ve now caught this certain someone out — it‘s that guy.

Yui: Eh… ?

*footsteps approach*

Kino: Ah, I thought you‘d show me an even more showy sort of fight. Is this already the end of this?

Yui: Kino-kun!? So you’ve been doing fine until now too—

Reiji: Do not approach this man.

Yui: Huh?

Shu: When you noticed how everything you came up with went conversely, you must’ve finally decided to come out.

You are the one who instigated these guys to come here, right? Kino.

Kino: Fufu, I can’t help hiding it anymore then. Well, I was slowly losing interest within this, so I kinda just wanted to get rid of unnecessary ballast.

But there was no way I would’ve thought this argument you had was all a simple fake. That’s an unexpected result for me too.

The fact that you’ve ruined my entire work… that’s what annoys me the most though. What’s your reason for that?

Yui: Kino-kun… what do you mean?

Kino: You’re seriously a child with bad judgment, huh. The one who sent the letter to Ayato and the others, that was me.

When Reiji and Shu had their little fight, I thought this would’ve been the ideal time to have them attack and let me get Eve.

Ayato: Damn, this bastard tricked us!

Kino: Fufu, I even was ridiculously successful with that plan too.

Every last one of you must seriously have a low intelligence to fall for that crap.

Subaru: Shut up! I’ll beat that disgusting smile outta your face when I’m free!

Yui: Why did you do all of this… ?

Kino: I obviously did this to have the Sakamaki family crush each other once they’d meet each other.

Yui: Crush the Sakamaki family… ? No way, Kino-kun, you...

Are you the mastermind then? Did you gather all of us in a place like this, removed our memories and then set each other up to kill?

Kino: If so, what would you do?

Yui: ...Nn!

Shu: Just what kind of a person are you?

Kino: Ah, come to think of it, I’ve never properly introduced myself to any of you.

As formerly said, I’m Kino. Karlheinz’ illegitimate child.

Yui: Karlheinz-sama’s...

Shu: ...Illegitimate child?

Ayato: Karl… heinz… ?

Ngh… what’s this…

Yui: (Ayato-kun?)

Reiji: No way, our father would never have an illegitimate child...

Shu: It’s not impossible if you remember that the person we’re talking about here is our father.

In other words, you’re saying you and we are siblings, right?

Kino: That’s right. I’ve already observed a bunch of information of you guys, before everyone started losing their memories.

Yes, I’m even willing to share interesting informations with you. Remember how we talked about Carla supposingly visiting Ruki’s mansion?

That was because he secretly wanted to see his true younger brother again. He doesn’t even seem to remember yet, but he still considered it important.

Now comparing those two to you guys. It’s already shameful how you snarled at each other. Pretty funny how my own brothers acted like this.

Reiji: Kch...

Yui: Why… Why are you laughing about this? Aren’t they your brothers, Kino-kun?

And despite being brothers, you still let them fight against each other… why would you enjoy such a thing!?

Kino: I’ve always enjoyed it so far. These guys existences are only a huge hindrance for me and my plan anyway.

Yui: ….. !

Kino: The one inheriting our fathers power at the end of this will be his zeroth son, me.

Therefore, would those hindrancing siblings of mine continue to comfortably kill each now?

Yui: That’s… so cruel…

Kino: The one obtaining the power reignings everything. The one obtaining them will become stronger than anyone else. That‘s the life this world is about.

Shu: You did all this to aim for our old man’s powers? And you even ordered us to fight against each other now, only to be the successor to his power...

Even if you may be able to obtain what you wish for, you’ll never experience satisfaction. Besides, there’s no way you’ll be able to handle them.

Kino: Hah? As if you’re in the position to discern my body’s strength. Who do you even think you’re facing and talking to right now?

Shu: This is simply a fact. You’ve withdrawn yourself from everything until now. And now in order to obtain those powers, you even wrote this letter.

Kino: So you’re still looking down on me? For real… everyone of you has always screwed with me...

*Kino activates powers*

Yui: (Ngh, the atmosphere around Kino-kun changed itself!?)

Kino: I thought it would be nice to see my siblings come together and massacre each other, but my plans changed.

Shall we decide who will become the king now?

Shu: What do you mean?

Kino: Becoming the king, or in other words, becoming Adam. With Eve’s approval, the chosen one obtains great powers.

I for now and forever, want to settle who the appropriate one among us is.

Yui: The supreme ruler… will become Adam? Eve should approve him...

(That means, this battle about becoming the king is nothing other than choosing who’ll become Adam…)

(Then the chosen one becomes Karlheinz-sama’s successor and inherits all his powers… !?)

Shu: I wasn’t interested in my old man’s powers to begin with. To make it clear, I don’t care about them.

But… Yui is different. I won’t lend her to anyone.

Yui: Shu-san...

Shu: We’ll take on that match you challenged us to then. With doing so, we’ll represent the six siblings of us.

Reiji, I’ll leave this matter in your hands.

Reiji: Understood.

Shu: About Ayato and the others, I’ll keep them tied up in order to prevent them from interrupting.

Subaru: Hah? If so, get your ass up and do something!

Kanato: How dare you to continue your incomprehensible talk while totally ignoring me like an idiot… are you making fun of me or what!?

Reiji: Be quiet!

Subaru: ….. !

Yui: (Reiji-san’s loud rebuke seems effective!)

Reiji: ...Please leave them to me. You will have to deal with him.

Shu: Yes, please do.

Yui: Shu-san...

Shu: You have to trust me once more, just like you’ve always done so far.

Yui: (To believe in him… that’s right. I won’t hesitate to keep doing so)

Understood. I’ll continue to believe in you, Shu-san.

Shu: Yes.

Yui: (I’m sure Shu-san will safely guide us through this situation—)

Shu: Let‘s end this quickly then.

Kino: ‘Kay, but this definitely will be my victory. Now, let‘s have a last deciding match—

[prettyinpymtech]

Did I Mention

Part 5

Series Masterlist

Summary: Poe refuses to agree with General Organa’s decision when she invites royalty to advise the Resistance. Despite his protests, Leia trusts him with her safety during an undercover mission. Maybe there’s a chance to change his misgivings of their new guest.

A/N: Alright, we’re finally introduced to Leif! There’s a lot going on in this chapter and I’d love to hear what you all think!

Poe absolutely loathed Kowakian monkey lizards, but he would gladly accept their company if it meant avoiding the senators of the New Republic altogether.

As an accomplished operative of the Resistance, he often had the unfortunate burden of arranging meetings and asking for their help. Poe found them all to be nothing short of a nuisance. And Leif was no exception. 

His entire appearance was defined by arrogance, from the silk draping his shoulders to the various rings adorning his fingers. The entire façade was only undone by Leif’s glare as his eyes wandered to Poe.  

“I see you’ve brought a friend.”

“My apologies. Leif, I would like to introduce you to…” you paused, realizing you hadn’t discussed a proper guise for Poe.

“Beau.” He offered, ignoring your grimace. “Beau Dewback. Y/N’s fiancé.”

He would definitely have to apologize for the new identity when this was all over, but, for now, he could be satisfied with Leif’s incredulous look at the mention of the word “fiancé.”

“I see.” Leif finally managed to choke out. “I was not aware we would have a guest joining us. I suppose I shall make the necessary arrangements with our waiter. Please excuse me.”

He motioned for a waiter to come forward and left to discuss the matter, completely unaware of the whispered exchange behind his back.

“Beau Dewback?” You hissed.

“I panicked! Besides,” Poe added playfully, “Mrs. Dewback has a pretty nice ring to it.”  

His remark did manage to earn a small smile.

Leif was still oblivious to the entire argument when he returned. He seemed far too disappointed by Poe’s presence to be bothered with additional predicaments.  “Well then, shall we, my dear?”

Poe was forced to follow closely behind as Leif escorted you to your table. He clenched his jaw when the senator leaned in close to whisper something in your ear, silently hoping this mission would be over soon. 

You smiled graciously when he pushed past Leif to pull out your chair, quite amused by his conduct. Tilting your head to meet Poe’s gaze, you were surprised to find him staring with an adoring gleam in his eyes. He placed a gentle kiss on your forehead before immediately taking the seat next to you.

Leif watched with a look of disgust evident on his face. “You two certainly seem…happy.”

“I suppose we are,” you said, unable to look away from Poe.

“And tell me, Beau, how did you manage to cross paths with Y/N?”  

You struggled to maintain your composure as Poe began to relay the story of your first encounter, hoping it would be more far more convincing than his name.

“We met at a party. She accidentally stepped on my foot and I just knew she was the one. I’ve loved her every day since then.”  

He turned to you with the same adoration from moments before and, for a brief instant, you wondered if there was a bit of truth to his regards. No, it was a foolish thought. You had to remind yourself this was all an act and nothing more.

The return of your waiter delayed any further reflections and Leif, despite his curiosity, was left with no time to ask for more details. He instead conferred with the waiter in a hushed tone, unaware that Poe was watching their interaction closely with suspicion.  

“You come here often?” Poe asked. He didn’t even bother to hide the irritation in his voice.

You reached forward, grabbing Poe’s hand with an embarrassed chuckle. It would have simply appeared as two lovers being affectionate, but you were eager to discourage Poe’s brashness. You couldn’t afford to lose Leif’s trust. Not yet.  

The senator appeared indifferent to Poe’s accusation, however, and downed a small helping of his wine.  “I tend to bring a few associates every now and then to discuss political matters, though I’m afraid I hardly come here for pleasure nowadays.

“Do you remember our last visit?” He asked, turning to you with much less adoration than Poe. “It was such a pleasant evening. I think of it quite often.”  

You did remember, though you would hardly describe such a memory as pleasant. It had occurred a few days after your appeals for Ryloth and Leif had invited you to dinner with a few of his friends as an apology. His guests, it turned out, were First Order operatives intent on ending your campaign for the neglected citizens of the New Republic. You had left Coruscant shortly after with no intention of returning.

It was in that moment you realized Leif would stop at nothing to eliminate those who opposed him. And it was why Leia had protested your resolve of meeting with the senator alone.

“Some of it, yes.”

It was all you could muster without offending Leif.

He narrowed his eyes, but it seemed he decided it was best to change the subject. He began to prattle of his recent work in the Senate, omitting his attempts to block funding for the planets that needed it most. Poe must have lost all interest in the senator’s nonsense, you realized, as his eyes drifted to the other side of the room. You tried to find the source of his distraction, but you could not find what it was that occupied Poe’s attention.

“What do you do, Beau?”  

“What?”

“Your line of work. What is it?”

Poe was still distracted when he answered Leif’s question. “I’m a pilot.”

“Ah, well that explains your rather…unfortunate circumstances.”

Poe finally met Leif’s scornful gaze. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Leif casually gestured to the ring on your finger.

“I’m sure it’s not easy, being able to care for your fiancé with such a meager profession. She is a princess, after all. I’m surprised she’s committed herself to someone so deprived of assets.”  

You tried not to panic, but one look at Poe told you it was too late to manage the situation. You were taken aback by the stark hurt in his eyes, silently cursing Leif for insulting someone so kind, but you were even more stunned to find Poe had no witty comeback to fire back. He instead rose to his feet and stomped away with no indication of when he would return.

Leif, unsurprisingly, was too concerned with his wine to spare another glance in Poe’s direction.

“A tad sensitive, don’t you think?”

“Are you kidding me right now?” Your outcry was beginning to attract the attention of nearby guests, but you found no desire to contain your anger.

“I meant no offense. I’d be more than happy to provide you and your fiancé with a generous sum of credits if you’re in such desperate need of them.”

“That won’t be necessary, Leif. He’s far more accomplished than you give him credit for and I certainly don’t regret my loyalty to him.”

“There’s no reason to get upset,” he chided, as if speaking to an unruly child. “You really must learn to control that temper of yours.”

“That’s enough! I’m not here to discuss my engagement. I’m here to discuss a business matter.”

“Business?” His eyes narrowed as he continued his inquiry. “And who, may I ask, directed you to do so?”

You met his gaze, undeterred by his cold stare. “General Organa.”

“I see. So the rumors are true.” He still remained unaffected when you gasped at the sudden contact of a blaster shoved against the back of your head.  “I do hope you’ll forgive me, my dear.”

A single shot of blaster fire was enough to send the entire dining room into chaos.  

[an-ambivalent]

Uchiha Therapist: Part II

Synopsis: Yandere! Madara x Reader x Yandere! Sasuke

[Name] is a struggling post graduate psychology student who has more on her plate than she can handle. Between her practicums to gain work experience and writing reports, to trying to maintain a decent lifestyle and look after her own mental health, there is little to no time left to work an actual paying job. Yet, money is essential for survival. So,  she does the next best thing that has been trending recently to assure a good paycheck; she becomes a sugar baby. The only thing is, [Name] is unaware that she’s become sugar baby of the Madara Uchiha, the notorious CEO of Uchiha Corporation. She is also unaware of the fact that she’s the therapist of his nephew Sasuke Uchiha, who has begun treading over the professional boundary of a patient, and has started developing an abnormal fixation for his therapist since she seems to be the only one who actually understands him.

Warning: Although this story will come to contain yandere themes that can be triggering or uncomfortable to read, there are no yandere themes present  in this chapter. It does have mentions of negative and tiring thoughts that may be triggering. Read at your own risk. This work is purely fictional and any yandere or other toxic behaviours that may be present in the future, know that I do not condone such behaviour.

Word Count: 4.1K

–

Story start; A day in the life of Madara Uchiha

It was no surprise really, when the ticking of the clock seemed to become louder with each passing second, and the loudness of it in the agonising silence started to grate on Madara’s nerves. The unforgiving light of the desktop screens in front of him that he worked on constantly in his office, were beginning to hurt his eyes; it left them feeling dried up and sore. The enormous piles of paperwork that were stacked on his desk, and a few more piles on other parts of his office, was the work he had yet to do. Although Madara spent the majority of his time cooped up in his office – some would go as far as to say that he lived in it or was married to it, more and more work simply continued to pile up.

Madara had been employed into the CEO role for the Uchiha corporation for about five years now. In saying so, he had been trained to take over the company and become a diligent, intelligent, intimidating worker– and other adjectives used to describe him, since his toddler days. Growing up with rigid rules and strict parent(s) who had unrealistic high expectations and standards laid out for their children to achieve, came hand-in-hand with his side of the family. It would be unfair to claim that all Uchiha forcefully pushed their children beyond humane capacities.

Granted that their family overall did strive for the best, but mostly in their own capabilities. While achieving excellent results was a driving factor, everyone was encouraged to give it their all because it was the value of hard work that mattered the most. Whether that was an individual working their hardest to overcome their depression and learning to live a better life for themselves, or someone who wanted to be a surgeon and then being expected to commit wholly to their studies – the standard for each person differed; there was no set limits. Madara was satisfied as long as everyone did their best to achieve their own goals and kept up with their well-being. Madara was like this because it was the life he wished he would have had, rather than the one his father and older brother had forced him into.

Having to grow up in the environment that he had, he had missed out on many experiences that were the bare minimum for the majority. Certainly, it had made him stronger mentally and emotionally to the point he was now; at least, that was what he thought. Perhaps, that thinking was the foolish part of him that he was not aware of. Having to grow up in the environment that he had, any sane person would have lost a part of their sanity in one way or another.

Returning back to the original point that the author wanted to explain before she saw the opportunity to introduce a little bit of Madara’s back story, while Madara was more than accustomed to the demanding duties of his work, it did not mean it made it any easier. The lack of sleep and proper nutrition was slowly beginning to affect his health. What would be many hours at work he could get through robotically made him hate his work even more now; it was beginning to become unbearable. The words on the paper he had to read through to decide whether to sign them or not were beginning to blur.

Madara let out an exasperated sigh as he picked up his cup of mocha from beside him and mindlessly gunned down the last few remaining sips. He tossed it carelessly in the bin that was beside his desk, before moving the paperwork away from him and laying his head on his desk.

The sound of his office door opening was heard, and before the person entering had even spoken, Madara felt a vein pop on his forehead out of annoyance.

“Don’t,” he ordered sternly. He could not spare a single bother to even lift his head up to acknowledge the person who had entered.

While Izuna truly did feel bad for his older brother and often took on much of his workload in order to support him, seeing him act so childish and feeling a bit deflated was funny. It was even more entertaining when he rubbed the salt in his wound.

“Big bad Uchiha-sama defeated by mere paperwork? Wait till I leak this to the media to get some money and start a scandal,” he remarked chuckling.

Madara groaned in response, and this time, he did lift his head up to address Izuna as he spoke. “Don’t start unnecessary crap Izuna. You and I both know the bastard will use whatever he can against me.”

At the mention of the ‘bastard’, whatever signs of humour was lingering on Izuna’s face were wiped away. The raven-haired pressed his lips in a thin line to affirm his shared distaste of the bastard that Madara had mentioned.

“You know I would never do that Aniki. I’ll always be on your side,” Izuna spoke seriously, as he sat down on the chair opposite of Madara, and settled a box of food on his desk. Instantly, Madara grabbed the box and pulled it towards himself. When he opened it to reveal a few pieces of inarizushi, his eyes lit up. He gave Izuna a sincere smile, although it was etched with a tinge of exhaustion.

“I know Izuna, if no one else, I know I can always count on you and you can always count on me. For that, and everything else you always do to support me, I will always be grateful to have such a caring little brother,” Madara said grinning. The slightly over-the-top complement had seemed to embarrass Izuna the way Madara had intended to because now, the younger male of the two was housing the colour pink on his cheeks.

“W-Whatever,” Izuna retorted scowling, as he snatched a piece of inarizushi from the lunch he had bought for Madara as a way to get his revenge. While this action did in fact displease Madara, he chose not to comment on it since he needed to be on Izuna’s good side for what he was about to ask.

Madara took one bite out of one of the inarizushi, and nodded in satisfaction at its taste, before he focused his gaze onto Izuna.

“I need you to step in for me this Friday night. I have somewhere to be,” he said nonchalantly. Well, he hoped he sounded nonchalant as to not raise any suspicion. But he knew that the way he had spoken was the tone he used when he wanted to hide something. Barely anyone would be able to notice it, however Izuna was not just anyone. And no matter how much he had wanted to hide it, Izuna had definitely noticed it.

Izuna furrowed his eyebrows. “Again? You needed me to step in last week too. I don’t mind, but it’s not like you to do that. I mean, I’m glad that you seem to be doing something other than work because you work way too much but I’m just curious… Wait, you aren’t doing that sugar baby thing again are you?” He accused, narrowing his eyes.

Madara’s shoulders tensed at Izuna’s accusatory tone. However, before he even had the chance to defend himself (lie his way through more like it) Izuna continued to speak.

“Nii-san, I understand how you feel but that’s not the way to handle things. If you want to settle down, there are women in our clan that will be suitable for you. Or if you need to, we can arrange therapy for you so you have someone confidential to talk to–” Izuna began to ramble, and Madara growled.

“Izuna I don’t need to settle down with a clan woman. And you and I both know no therapy we attend will be confidential because of that bastard and the elders–” Madara started to hiss. However, before he could continue, there was a knock on his office door, causing both of the brothers to freeze.

In the midst of their banter and serious talk, both had seemed to have forgotten they should have been keeping the volume of their voice to a minimum. Usually, both Madara and Izuna were proactive about discussing secrets and making sure no one was eavesdropping and whatnot. However, seemingly both seemed to be so exhausted that it must have slipped their minds. Now, they could only hope that they had not been overheard, and if they had been, whoever it was, would keep whatever they heard to themselves.

“Madara-sama may we come in?” A familiar voice inquired. Both brothers looked at each other as if they were deer caught in headlights before they managed to calm themselves down. Then, they sat back in their seats in a way that would lead one to assume they had been discussing very important business.

“Come in,” Madara responded stoically. Now, he was no longer the merrier man who allowed himself to be expressive in a vulnerable way like he was with Izuna. Now, he was the unshakable Uchiha CEO, who kept others onto the edge of their seat.

The door opened to reveal Shisui and Itachi. Once the two had entered, Itachi who was behind Shisui, made sure to close the door behind them.

Shisui wore his usual friendly smile on his face as he greeted his superiors (who were nearly the same age as him and Itachi), while Itachi had a neutral expression. He merely nodded as a greeting to acknowledge both Madara and Izuna. He knew that while both brothers held nothing against Shisui or even him, there was a sense of discomfort and mistrust amongst them because of how they were related. It was at times like this that Itachi was reminded of his position in the clan – the position that he absolutely hated. If it was not for him and his damn status, then people around him would not be kept at an arm’s distance like he was; Shisui would be in a position in the corporation that he was more than experienced for, but did not get due to Madara’s and Izuna’s distrust in anyone that was close to him.

“Here is all the paperwork to extend our links into the art industry with the Yamanaka corporation. The discussions surrounding the contract for our joint collaboration was a success,” Shisui confirmed, as he handed all the paperwork over to Izuna, who began to skim read through it already.

Madara nodded in acknowledgement. “Good work you too.” And in response to this, both Shisui and Itachi nodded back.

Generally speaking, that was meant to be the end of the conversation and a sign for them to excuse themselves, unless Madara would hint that he needed them to stay to assign their next task right away. However, as Itachi went to leave, because he did not want to overstay his welcome and be around Madara and Izuna for more than what was necessary, Shisui had grabbed onto his arm to prevent him from leaving. This action was not missed by Madara or Izuna, and they both raised an eyebrow at them.

“Was there something else you two needed?” Madara asked.

“Forgive us for overstepping our boundaries but we could not help but hear,” Shisui started, and right away his words caused Madara and Izuna to tense. Itachi’s eyes widened as he realised what Shisui was about to do and he instantly shook his head, while trying to pull his arm out of his best friend’s grip.

“Shisui, you’re overstepping your boundaries don’t include me onto your schemes. They hate me enough as it is and if Father finds out–“ Itachi started whispering in panic. However, Shisui gripped his arm tighter to give him reassurance which made him silence himself.

“Shisui I encourage you two to think twice before saying what you’re going to say,” Izuna warned in a low tone, and narrowed his eyes at the two. While his threat would have scared anyone else, Shisui stood his ground and continued to give them a bright grin.

“We heard about Izuna-san prompting Madara-sama to seek therapy but having concerns around that given the nature of some people in our clan,” Shisui started. Near the end of his sentence, his voice had lowered to signify to them that he understood their concerns. However, that was not what annoyed Madara. What annoyed him was that not only his brother, but now other members of his clan were suggesting he needed therapy. For some reason, that assumption really ticked him off.

“Even though it may not seem like it, we care about your well-being, both of us do. We have no intention of saying anything to you know who, especially considering we’re in a similar situation.”

Izuna raised an eyebrow. “Really? Are you now? I wonder what he could possibly have against his star son who was groomed to do his bidding,” Izuna accused. At this, anger flooded Itachi. He was going to growl at Izuna but one look from Shisui prevented him from lashing out in any way that might be detrimental.

Izuna looked pleased for having getting underneath Itachi’s nerves.

“As you may know, Sasuke is in therapy right now,” Shisui started and Madara scoffed.

“I actually did not know that. Good to know the members of our own clan are keeping secret from us,” he accused, and this caused Shisui to sigh exasperatedly.

“Well, we’re not keeping any secrets since we’re telling you about this, and it’s a sign of trust because Madara-sama, just like you, if there’s nothing else, Itachi cares the most about his younger brother,” Shisui explained, narrowing his eyes. At this, Madara’s eyes flickered to Itachi who tensed under his scrutinizing stare. Then after exchanging a look with Izuna, both brothers refrained themselves from making any further accusations and signalled Shisui to continue. The mediator between the two parties sighed in relief.

“We have managed to find a therapist who will assure confidentiality of her clients no matter the threats. We did… threaten her so we could sit in with Sasuke during his sessions to assure it went according to what Fugaku-sama wanted. But she refused to allow that unless Sasuke consented to it. I know, you may not believe us so what you do with this knowledge is up to you. We only ask that you don’t inform Fugaku-sama of what we’ve told you in mutual agreement that we will not discuss anything we overheard here. I will just leave the therapist’s contact details here,” Shisui said, as he settled a small business like card with contact information on Madara’s desk.

Then instantly, he bowed before he grabbed Itachi once again, and forced them to hurriedly leave the room.

“We’ll be taking our leave now. I wish you the best.”

As Shisui shut the door behind him after they left, Madara mindlessly took the card Shisui had given him and shoved it into his pocket as Izuna watched him.

"Will you–”

“One more mention of me needing therapy and you’ll regret it.”

The moment Shisui and Itachi were out of the suffocating atmosphere they had experienced with Madara and Izuna, and were at a safe distance where no one was around to hear the young prodigy go off, Itachi went off.

The glare he gave Shisui was cold and vicious, enough to have made a mama bear protective of her cubs freeze over. Internally, Shisui started to pray for his funeral and he sweat dropped.

“Geez, your glare is so cold and vicious a mama bear protective of her cubs would freeze over,” Shisui remarked light-heartedly, trying to improve the mood. However, he had simply succeeded in making Itachi’s glare harden.

“I know you can be impulsive Shisui and like to live ‘life dangerously’ but what you did back there was downright foolish. Our relations are sensitive enough as it is and they don’t trust me because of my parentage. You know we have to cautious around them or Father will–”

“Or your father will beat us up with the stick that’s always up his ass, yeah yeah I know,” Shisui said and scoffed. “But I know better than anyone that you hate being your father’s marionette nor do you deserve that. That’s precisely why we should risk it and try to be on Madara’s and Izuna’s good side because they at least won’t manipulate your strings without your own knowledge.”

“I can’t afford to take that risk. Sasuke has enough to deal with already. If not me, then it’ll be him and I, I can’t allow that. I won’t let them do to him what they did to me. He’s still an innocent child–”

“An innocent child? Itachi do you hear yourself? Sasuke is twenty-two years old. He’s not a child anymore nor is he innocent. He wears his own scars, and as much as you don’t want to hear this, you need to. He doesn’t need you to hold his hand and coodle him. He’s his own person, he can look after himself. The problem isn’t him, the problem is you. You’re the one who refuses to move on from your past and insist on destroying your own happiness thinking you’re some sort of saint who needs to sacrifice himself for the rest of us, when you’re just human, like all of us. Honestly, Itachi you need to get out of your own head and stop letting Sasuke or your dad influence how you want to live your life. Maybe I should’ve kept [Name]’s contact information for you,” Shisui scolded.

Although his words were harsh and cut deep, what mattered to Itachi was how Shisui cared about him so much. Despite not being entirely blood related, Shisui acted as an older brother to Itachi and was probably the one who knew him the most. Unlike many other members of their family, Shisui did not kiss the floor Itachi walked on due to who his father was, suck up to him, or have unrealistic expectations from him. He treated Itachi how he needed to be treated; a normal person. And when Itachi felt himself beginning to spiral, it was always Shisui who kept him grounded and brought him back to reality. He did not voice it often, but he was grateful for Shisui always sticking to his side.

Just like how now, he had given Itachi the desperate reality check that he needed.

Itachi looked at Shisui and smiled at him.

“You know what Shisui, don’t feel too bad about giving her information away to Madara. I’m sure I can get it from Sasuke,” Itachi responded, looking upwards at the ceiling.

Shisui froze for a few moments as Itachi kept on walking ahead of him. Then, he snapped out of his trance and ran after Itachi.

“Wait after all these years, that was all I needed to say to make you admit you have serious repressed issues going on and need to see a counsellor?” Shisui began, but he received no response from Itachi. If anything, Itachi sped up so Shisui would not be able to catch up to him, causing the later mentioned male to run after him.

“Wait Itachi, answer me! Hey, you bastard, I said answer me!”

____________

Friday Night

“Did you not like the food that is prepared here?” Madara asked, after [Name] had entered his penthouse, and made herself comfortable by sitting on the floor behind the coffee table in his living room, with her legs folded. Prior to her arrival, she had told him not to have anything prepared because she was bringing what she quoted “the food of the commoners.”

Even though Madara was traditional in many ways, the interior of his penthouse was modern. For that reason, he found it strange that [Name] had chosen to sit the way she had, and was planning on eating on the coffee table rather than the dining table.

His eyebrow twitched as he awkwardly went beside her.

“Wouldn’t you rather eat at the dining table?” He enquired in last hopes that she would at least eat at the dining table. Said female grinned widely, and patted the empty beside her.

“And give into traditions of the hungry hippos of the capitalist world? No way. Every choice I make, I want them to know how much I hate them,” she said grinning, and Madara scoffed at her response in amusement, as he finally gave in and sat beside her.

“If you say so. What did you buy?” He asked, eyeing the big obnoxious yellow W that was on the paper bag.

“Wcdonalds.”

“And you can afford to buy this?”

“The money you sent me for our first date was more than enough to buy this…  amongst other things as well,” [Name] began in a murmur as she turned her head towards Madara. “You know you don’t have to pay me that much. I don’t think I did anything worth the amount you sent me.”

Madara raised an eyebrow because he never had anyone complain about that before.

“You have an issue with how much I chose to give you?” He asked incredulously.

“N-No, I just think that I didn’t do anything to earn that much,” she tried to argue.

“I enjoyed your company, so I paid what I saw fit. It’s disheartening to have you question the worth I saw in you,” Madara reasoned. Admittedly, his tone was a bit icy which made [Name] wince inwardly. Rather than elaborating on it any further since it was a topic he was evidently not open to discuss, she let it drop and steered the topic of the conversation in another direction.

“Have you ever eaten Wcdonalds before?”

Madara stared at her for a good few seconds before he shook his head, causing [Name]’s grin to return to her face.

“Well you’re in for an experience. Care to guess how much it was?” she said, as she slid over a paper bag over for him. Then, as she unwrapped her burger, and bit into it Madara’s eye twitched.

“$60? Don’t you need cutlery to eat? The kitchen is right there–”

“Wrong, it was $20 for two meals. And don’t worry about the cutlery, you can eat the food without it. The purpose of this is to be convenient, meaning no cooking, no dishes required, so no cleaning afterwards either. Here, try some of these fries with ketchup,” she prompted. Albeit being a bit hesitant, Madara did as she said and tried the combination. Admittedly, it was a bit too greasy for his liking, but he still enjoyed it.

“It’s good. Anyway back to what I was saying before,” Madara started, and slid closer to [Name] until he was pressed against her side. Tenderly, he brushed a lock of her hair behind her ear to get a better look at her face. [Name] found herself beginning to feel flustered as Madara leaned closer to her.

“If you did think you lacked in your performance that much, you’re always welcome to step up your game and do what you think you must to earn your paycheck,” he suggested, before he left a light feathery kiss just behind her ear. “After all, the purpose of our meeting was to be intimate. I was just lucky enough that you’re compelling just as much as you are beautiful.”

“Y-You think I’m b-beautiful?” she inquired shyly.

“Of course.”

“W-Well, I think you’re beautiful too.”

Madara’s lip twitched upwards in amusement. “You think I’m beautiful?” He asked, copying her words from before.

[Name] smiled sweetly at him. “Of course.”

“I’ve never been called beautiful before,” Madara pointed out chuckling, as he shortened the distance between their faces. [Name]’s eyes had widened momentarily, before she closed her eyes and began to follow his lead. However, just as Madara’s lips brushed against hers, and she was about to deepen their kiss, Madara pulled away.

[Name] blinked multiple times in confusion before what had happened sunk in. She saw Madara staring down at her with a wicked smirk on his face, and had it been possible, steam would be coming out of her in embarrassment.

“We should eat. Wouldn’t want the food you bought to go to waste,” Madara remarked. His smirk widened when [Name] pouted at him. Then, when her stomach rumbled loudly to signal her hunger, she was left feeling more embarrassed, but dug into her very much needed dinner.

[mithrilwren]

Carillon

For @essek-week​ day 6: tower/possibilities. This was a VERY last minute fill, and it was an absolute miracle I got it done before the clock struck midnight, but woohoo, here we are! It’s mostly for ‘tower’, but I think it has shades of ‘possibilities’ as well.

[Also on Ao3!]

“I really do appreciate that you were willing to come all this way.”

“Yes, well,” Essek said, inclining his head slightly. “It isn’t so far to travel for people such as us, is it?”

The blonde-haired woman smiled serenely. Lady Allura Vysoren, member of the Arcana Pansophical, senior member of the Council of Tal’Dorei, a talented and accomplished wizard - all facts he’d committed carefully to memory the night before, after a series of hasty messages to his more worldly contacts. She ushered him from the teleportation circle through an oaken door, into a hallway of fine wooden supports and demure beige paint. “Have you been to Tal’Dorei before, Essek?”

“No, I’m afraid I haven’t. My duties rarely take me outside my home country.” He gazed up at the high ceiling, wondering vaguely which government building she’d transported them to. He knew they were bound for Emon, but he hadn’t had time to collect any information about the layout of the city before Allura arrived to collect him.

“That’s a shame. I do love to travel, when I can.” Her pleasant niceties, far from putting Essek at ease, only amplified his confusion as to why he was chosen for this assignment. The role of ‘Shadowhand’ was exactly as unobtrusive as the name implied - he was no diplomat. His work was best done through intermediaries, if any social interaction was required at all. 

His work with the Mighty Nein was an aberration, but not wholly outside his purview: to gather information about illicit dealings within the Dynasty was quite within his usual set of duties, even if the method was… unusual. But he could not fathom why the Bright Queen would select him to play the role of ambassador, unless his seeming success with the Nein convinced her that he had some special pull with humans that other drow lacked.

Yet again, he found himself teetering on the knife’s edge of civility, trying to maintain his balance in an arena he did not understand. If he had little experience playing the host, he had less being the hosted, and he grasped one hand by the other in a vice grip behind his back as he floated after Allura, following her into a little parlor off the main corridor. She gestured to a chair, and he felt at once foolish to have taken the effort to resume his levitation spell, only to be forced to descend within a minute in order to sit.

“Please, make yourself comfortable,” Allura said as she walked to a little table and began pouring cups of tea from a delicate porcelain pot. Beside her, there was a glass door, partially ajar and seemingly leading to a balcony, but Essek could not see past the railing to guess any more about their location. Instead, Essek sank back into the armchair - plush, and upholstered with warm auburn velvetine that complemented the other splashes of autumnal colour within the room - and watched the light breeze from the balcony ripple within the blue folds of Allura’s dress as she finished pouring. 

A receiving chamber, perhaps, for foreign officials? It seemed pleasant enough for it, though nowhere near as grand as the Bright Queen’s throne room. Every so often a shout or cheer drifted up from the street below, also very unlike the reverent silence that he knew so well. Perhaps those things mattered less for a government ruled by a collection of individuals, rather than a sovereign. He had no frame of reference to compare it against.

After handing him a cup, Allura sank into an armchair across from him and took a small sip, just enough to wet her lips, before speaking again. “I hope it’s alright. I tend to drink a lot of tea in the afternoon, but if you prefer something else, I’m sure I can muster it up.”

“This is fine,” he said, and took a sip to prove it. And it was - a pleasant, earthy aroma, subtled by a splash of cream and what he assumed must be sugar. He’d never met anyone besides Jester who preferred sweetness in herbal drinks (or any drinks, in her case), but he had to admit that the flavours melded well. “But- you’ll forgive me, but I wasn’t given much information on the nature of this meeting. What was it you wanted to discuss?”

Matters of politics he had at least a good understanding of, a better one than how to act friendly and convince others to enjoy your company, and Essek was eager to shift to more familiar ground as soon as possible. While he doubted his social graces could net Allura’s esteem, at least he might be able to engage her mind in discussion, and then perhaps the worst of his awkwardness could be overlooked. 

And, for the most part, he believed he succeeded, in the ways that mattered. It turned out the Council of Tal’Dorei had simply wanted a check-in with the Dynasty after Allura’s involvement in the peace talks - a move which he now gathered was only loosely sanctioned by the council itself, though she had seemed quite confident when she arrived before the Bright Queen’s court all those months ago. She meant to shore up relations, and ensure that open communication would continue between their governments. 

He agreed to what he could, proposed options for further engagements, and all in all, performed adequately in his function, but hadn’t quite shaken the feeling he was missing some important detail in all of this - something that might explain why he, of all people, was the one taking part in this conversation. Allura was clearly a skilled diplomat, in addition to her arcane prowess. She projected an air of competence, tempered by a warm, inviting demeanor, but he did not doubt that her demeanor would change were they in her personal tower, rather than within the public eye. Wizards were not known for their hospitality, after all, and the ones he’d met outside himself always guarded their isolation jealously, quick to drop all illusions of civility once they were within a domain of their control. 

“Lady Allura,” he asked as she got up to refill their cups, unable to contain the pressing question any longer. “I’ve enjoyed our conversation today, and I think we’ve made good progress. But… if there is any skillset that I particularly may provide, please, do not hesitate to ask.” There. A way of proposing the question without betraying his own ignorance. The best he could do without surrendering ground in their back and forth. This was, after a negotiation, even if he couldn’t sense the parameters yet. One wizard did not call on another unless they desired something that the other could provide. Even Caleb primarily turned to Essek for help with spells or magic beyond his level, and they were friends - at least, they were.

(He pushed down any thoughts of dinner parties, or good conversation over wine, as the fancies of the past that they were. It was a bitter hope, to believe that there was a different sort of relationship they could have had, one not based on favours and needs. It did not serve him to dwell on it, when his own hand was what quashed that hope for good.)

Allura smiled, setting down the pot on the table. “Nothing of the sort. Truth be told, I actually asked for you personally.” Essek’s eyebrow raised.

“Really.” Though she made no threat, his hand itched towards his wrist, where his components were hidden. Weeks of warnings from Caleb and others in the Nein that an assassination attempt by the Cerberus Assembly might be coming, now that he had outlived his usefulness, had set him on edge. The thought of a powerful wizard with connections both in the Dynasty and the Empire asking to see him personally, and alone? It was worth every  bit of caution in the world.

“You sound surprised.”

“Diplomacy is not my accustomed role.”

“Nor is peacemaking mine, but we find ourselves in strange times.” Allura turned away, looking towards the window and the afternoon sky. “I confess, I still don’t understand the whole of the conflict on Wildemount’s shores. There are shades of grey to every war, and I don’t trust myself to recognize them with an outsider’s perspective. Which is why I asked the Mighty Nein who they would trust to speak to me honestly, and fairly.” She turned back to Essek. “They named you.”

A jolt went through Essek. “When?” he asked, shocked to hear the state of his own voice, strained as it was.

They’d barely spoken in the weeks since the end of the peace talks, other than the warnings about Ikithon and Jester’s occasional messages at inconvenient hours. He’d assumed any ties of trust he’d had with the Nein had been irrevocably broken. Despite any protestations in the Balleater’s hold, he had a hard time believing that No- Veth, or Beau, or even Fjord would count him as someone to be recommended. And yet-

“A few nights ago, when I asked them. I’m glad you were available on such short notice.”

“I as well,” he answered faintly.

And yet-

“Oh no.”

Essek’s head whipped up at Allura’s sudden change in tone to something akin to horror. 

“Is something the matter?”

He stood quickly and floated over to her, scanning the room for any sign of an intruder or threat, but instead he found her staring at a timepiece on the mantle, her eyes tracking the short hand with increasing distress. 

“She’s going to kill me.”

“Who?” Essek insisted, but she was already striding away from him towards the door. 

“How would you feel about a quick tour of the city?” Allura asked, her smile gone from welcoming to hurriedly apologetic in an instant. 

“...Alright.” Strange, but he couldn’t sense an immediate threat. He followed her out the door and into the same hallway, which soon led to a winding spiral staircase leading downwards into a depth of stone. 

“I’m very sorry for the abruptness,” she explained as she walked, “but I promised I would pick something up for someone, and I lost track of time. I’d like to send you off properly, but I also- I really did promise.”

“It’s alright,” he said. “I’m in no rush.” If anything, he was curious to see a bit more of Emon than whatever government building they were in - though, he thought as they continued to descend, it was a strange construction for one. If anything, the layout of the staircase reminded him more of a-

In what seemed like an instant, they were outside, and Essek’s suspicions were immediately proved unfounded. The moment they stepped out onto the street, they were surrounded by bustle - crowded houses, children playing in the street, dogs begging scraps from a food stall down the way. No wizard’s tower would be built so close to the rest of society. They were built for privacy, secluded and elevated above the world. His own house was a half-formed imitation of what he had someday hoped to achieve for himself: gated and lofty, and lonesome.

He didn’t have time to reflect further, or even glance back, lest he lose Allura in the crowd as she hurried away at a breakneck speed.

In the end, he caught up to her on the outskirts of a market, where sellers were just beginning to put away their wares for the coming evening. Essek found Allura at one particular stall, clutching a package of something smelling distinctly briny and looking triumphant.

“Lionfish,” she explained. “They only sell it one day a week, because it’s so hard to keep fresh on its journey from the coast. It’s also my wife’s favourite dish. I would not have heard the end of it, if I’d forgotten.”

“Your wife?” Essek asked, his understanding of Allura shifting in great bounds, like so many shifting cogs whirring into a new configuration. Had he ever met a wizard who was in a partnership, let alone married? It had always seemed to him that a relationship of that kind could only take time away from his work: an unsound investment. Or at least that was a convincing argument, on the days that the loneliness felt like it would suffocate him from within. He almost wanted to ask how she managed it, ambition and love both, but held his tongue. 

“Kima,” Allura provided. “She’ll probably be home by the time we make it back. Maybe you’ll meet her.”

“I’d like that,” said Essek, and found he meant it, which was the most surprising thing of all.

Now that they weren’t in a rush, he was able to get more of a lay of the land. The city was a strange arrangement of highs and lows. It seemed that they were in the high portion, with many houses spread out on the plain below. 

“This is the Cloudtop District,” Allura explained as they walked. Essek had decided to forgo his usual hovering, as his drow appearance was already garnering enough stares from passersby. “It used to be home to the most wealthy citizens of the city, but nowadays there’s a mix of all sorts here.”

“What changed?”

“A horde of dragons razed the city to the ground.” Allura shrugged. “The social divide seemed rather immaterial to most people after that.” She pointed forward at one singular spire, rising above the rest of the mostly one-or-two level dwellings. “Luckily, there was enough space left for me to rebuild the Ivory Tower, and the city’s come up around it.”

Essek stared. It was certainly the direction they had come from, and that they were now headed to.

So it was her tower then, that they had been in. Her tower, that she called ‘home’, that she used to entertain guests, and shared with her wife, and occasionally left to buy fish from a market three streets down. 

“Does it ever feel... crowded?” Essek asked, his own skin already crawling at the proximity of the strangers around him. 

“Sometimes,” Allura admitted. “But I like being able to say hello to my neighbours. I hid my nose in books for so much of my life that it’s a welcome change, for it to be as easy to meet new people as to walk outside my door. It takes some of the work out of it for me.”

That was… not a way that Essek had considered the problem before. He had wondered when he was younger why so many of his peers fell into relationships - platonic or otherwise - without any seeming effort, while he could not fathom how to make a single friend. But he had been separate from the start - isolated because of his mother’s position, and his own talent. Were relationships truly as simple as being in the right vicinity to stumble into them?

He pondered that thought all the rest of the way back to the tower, and up an unfamiliar staircase. “I just want to stick this in the icebox,” Allura explained, “and then I promise, I’ll see you home properly.” He followed her through a new door and into a little kitchen with an adjoining dining room, separated by a half-wall and banister. 

The kitchen itself was fascinating. He got the sense of Allura as an organized individual, but most of the space was pure chaos. Mismatched mugs were haphazardly piled on top of bags of produce and sharp knives were stacked, uncovered, by the sink. Allura’s nose visibly wrinkled as she moved aside a few unopened boxes with her foot in order to open the icebox and shove the package inside.

“Who’s this?”

The new voice caught Essek off guard and he whirled, only to find the air empty at his eye level. He looked down, and found a halfling woman in improbably large plate armor staring up brazenly at him. 

“Essek Thelyss,” Allura supplied from behind him, standing up and dusting her hands off on her skirt. “A guest of mine, from Wildemount.”

The woman didn’t extend her hand, but she gave Essek a good once-over before nodding, apparently satisfied by his look that he wasn’t a threat. He tried not to take it as a snub as the woman shouldered past him to get to Allura.

“Did you remember to get the lionfish?”

“Of course, darling,” Allura said, glancing over the woman’s head at Essek with a look that clearly read I told you so. “I wouldn’t have forgotten.”

Kima, then, and the swift kiss she planted on the back of Allura’s palm confirmed it. “Great, I’ll get started then. Go finish up with your friend, dinner’s in forty.” With that, she was off, pulling pots and pans out with reckless abandon, and utterly unconcerned with either of their presences. It was clear now to Essek that this place was Kima’s, which explained the incongruity with Allura’s neat parlor. 

He thought of his own house, where half the rooms were empty for lack of things to fill them with. He had always wanted to live alone, had never questioned the idea that he would hate to share any part of his home with someone else. 

And yet-

He could understand the appeal now, of sharing a space. Of seeing another person’s marks left over the places they frequent - the dishes in the sink, the paintings on the wall - or to be greeted by a kiss on the doorstep, from someone listening for your footsteps eagerly. It wasn’t a possibility for him, but he thought... he could see it. Why someone would want that. 

Allura sent him back to Rosohna with a promise of future visits and cups of tea to come. By the time he arrived back at his house, it was nearly time to rest, but he headed to his laboratory, intending to check on one of his experiments before closing his eyes for the night. 

The walkways between the different segments of his home were dark, as always, but they gave a good view of the streets stretching beyond his own empty one. From here, he could clearly see the light of Caduceus’s tree, the one beacon in the darkness that surrounded them all, guarding a house too small for seven occupants, but somehow functional, with enough space for all. 

During the day, neighbouring drow still flocked like moths to the flame, walking by the house and trying to catch a glimpse of the strange goings-on inside. He’d never understood the purpose of the tree, when all it did was draw unnecessary attention to the group. He started to wonder now, if that was the goal all along.

His spire was not a tower, but it was removed, just the same. Meticulously organized, just as he liked it to be, but there were still traces of clay he hadn’t managed to scrub from the floorboards. Essek stood on the threshold and saw scattered images of the past: of Nott laying on the floor, of Caleb at the desk, of Jester hounding him for snacks from down the hall. 

They flickered out, one by one, leaving only Caleb, trapped in a scene not from his memory, but from his mind all the same. He watched Caleb stand from the desk and move to the table, beckoning Essek forward. 

“Did you find it?” the shadow Caleb asked, and Essek nodded, heart caught in his throat as he handed over the requested scroll. “Good. Then we can finish tonight.” Caleb leaned over and gave Essek a peck on the cheek, and his lips felt of fog, immaterial and crushing at the same time.

Then he blinked, and it was all gone. Caleb was nothing more than a memory again, and the only proof of his one-time presence were the stains of reddish dirt across the floor.

He stumbled off to his room, feeling unsettled, and deeply tired, with question after question flitting through his mind.

How far would his tower have to climb, so that he couldn’t see the light of that accursed tree from his window?

How long can he pretend that he wouldn’t rather be under that roof tonight, instead of his own?

[despair-ninja-everything-agency]

A Switch of Fate

*Sigh* Another quick midnight fanfic I go~ This time it's for my WotM!Cole AU. Hope you like it :D

Spoiler alert for: A Realm Reborn ending, early Heavensward

Characters: Word of the Mother!Cole || WotM!WoL, Minfilia Warde, Mammon of Greed, brief Lucifer of Pride, brief The Master || OG Sayo!Cole, mentioned Thancred Waters, mentioned Y'shtola Rhul

Word count: 1200+

"Your tea, M'lord"

A silver tray at her hand. Steaming hot cup of chamomile tea lay on top of it. Mammon slowly approached the figure sitting in the arbor. He grunted, signaling approval. With delicate hand, she put the cup onto the glass table beside him.

Silence fell as gentle breeze blew through the garden of beautiful crystal roses, scattering petals loose enough to be carried by the light wind. Nothing but the clinking sound of the tea cup being set back to its place as the figure finished sipping the tea.

As the silence grew, the servant finally broke the ice.

"Do you regret it?"

This earned her a questioning hum from the other person. She continued.

"Not running away with her. Did you regret leaving her behind, when you could've escaped together from them?"

No reply. Only a soft sigh escaping from the other's mouth.

Another silence.

It took long before she finally got her answer.

"No… I don't regret my decision"

Another gentle breeze carded through the raven-haired as he continued.

"However, I do regret not being by her side now. When she needed me the most"

Shifting his gaze to his most loyal servant, Cole smiled hollowly. Under his empty grey eyes lied a hint of sadness.

As if to try easing her master, Mammon spoke.

"My sisters and I have been watching over her this past couple days. There has been some unease between the remaining Scions and the citizens of Ishgard. But rest assured, Lady Minfilia is well and healthy, if maybe a bit stressed right now. What's with what happened in Ul'dah and now being accused as heretics by the Heaven's Ward"

What happened in Ul'dah… Just the thought of it sent a pang of guilt inside his heart. The guilt far outweighed the relief of hearing his best friend, someone whom he considered as sister, doing fine. Closing his eyes, he tried to recall what happened that fateful night…

-------------

The sound of water splashing violently under their feet as they ran as fast as possible through the underground tunnel. Running away from the crime they never committed. One by one their allies stayed behind to give them time, stalling the Brass Blades and the now defecting Crystal Brave that's on their heels, until it's only the both of them.

When he noticed Minfilia stopped running, that's when she'd stay behind. That he couldn't stay with her and that he's the Warrior of Light, their only hope.

He grabbed her, demanding her to explain and that what she's about to do was crazy. She only gave him a sad smile.

"Cole… I'm glad that you're concerned of me. But I have to stay. 'Tis the only way"

"Bullshit! I can't just leave you here alone! We have to get out of here! Please, Lia! I… I can't…"

"This is the will of Hydaelyn. It's my duty to fulfill her will"

"Lia…"

"It's alright, Cole. I… We'll meet again soon…"

Her gaze pleading. She wanted him to be safe. To not worry of her and that everything will be fine.

Was this really the only way? Was there really no other solution?

No. He wouldn't have any of it.

"No… I'll stay"

"Cole?"

But before she could talk further, his grip grew tighter. His body trembled with suppressed emotions.

"Listen to me, Minfilia. I may be the Warrior of Light. But I'm merely a blade. A weapon to fight. I… I couldn't go this far without you… You're our heart. The reason we kept going. The reason why I kept going despite everything. I am… disposable. Yet you're not. You have to get out of here. You MUST escape. For the sake of Eorzea. For us. For me…"

Minfilia's eyes went wide. How could he call himself disposable? Him, the savior of Eorzea? Yet before she could protest, he pleaded.

"Please… It… doesn't have to be this way… I-I'll stay instead. I'll go back and help Y'shtola and Thancred. You just…. Be safe, okay? P-Please… I couldn't... I-If Hydaelyn needs anything... even if I lost her blessing... then I-I'll be the one… helping her…"

"Cole…"

They both fell silent. Yet they both knew their time ran short. Without hesitation, the raven-haired walked back to where they came from, letting go of his grip.

"I won't let fate take you away from us…" he muttered.

Warmth engulfed his hand. Her hand gripping his tenderly. He turned to look at her, the blond-haired almost on the verge of tears.

"Be safe… okay?"

He smiled and nodded, putting up a calm and brave facade.

Minfilia looked at him for the last time, keeping his brave figure in her memories, before letting go and bolting off to the exit.

His smile dropped as soon as he faced the opposite side. The Sisters of Purgatory emerged behind him, forming a line of defense as they each readied their blade of energy.

"You guys ready?" he asked, his knife-scepter hybrid on each hand.

The eldest sister, Lucifer, spoke as their representation, "Ready as you are, M'lord!"

He smirked and closed his eyes. Taking a moment of peace knowing that Minfilia would be safe.

"Thancred… I keep my promise for you…"

Fire of rage burned brightly in his eyes the moment he opened them. With a yell, he charged blindly into the darkness, his servants on his tow.

The next thing he knew, a bright light blinded him before it consumed his vision.

----------

Cole pried his eyes open as he returned to the present.

Everything after that was a hazy blur. He recalled offering his body to Hydaelyn, anything to spare Minfilia from the fate that awaits her. The Master, intrigued by his act of selfless if foolish sacrifice, promoted him with the title of Witch of Light. The Crystal Garden of Roses was given as his new dwelling, a downtime when Hydaelyn not using his body for reasons only known to her.

"Sir?"

Blinking, he looked back at Mammon, still standing there watching her dear master.

"Are you still worried about her?"

He would be lying if he didn't.

"Yeah… But I can't do much now… I can't really go back to the mortal world, can I? The best I can go in Hydaelyn's realm is in the Aether realm. Even then, I… well, you know I can't really BE myself there"

The servant thought for a moment, before asking, "What if we take another you from the Sea of Fragments? Surely there are countless of you who's still a Warrior of Light out there. Hell, didn't the Master say you're one of the very few exceptions? That's why he's interested in you in the first place? If we can get his permission to pick up a different, still a Warrior of Light you, maybe we can protect Lady Minfilia in a more… direct way"

Cole looked at the brunette in surprise. A way to protect his friend directly? Isn't that an enticing prospect? In his current state, he could do nothing but watch from afar. But if it's a mortal version of him…

A wicked smile formed on his lips. Combined with his empty eyes, one would fear what's on his mind. But not Mammon. Not his most loyal servant. She smiled back, happy to see the long lost energy filled her master.

And so it's decided….

-----------

In an antique library, a black robed figure stood facing a bookshelf. A book in his hand. When the door opened forcefully, he knew. A glance at his white robed doppelganger tells him all he needed to know. He couldn't contain his glee. What kind of story would be woven this time? Smiling cruelly, he addressed his counterpart.

"What can I do for you, my precious little pawn?"

[sailing-four-boats]

This post contains spoilers

Reading back chapters 19-21 again made me realize how MC’s recklessness and lack of thinking almost never had consequences before because the guys always tolerate her stupidity. They will save her if she makes a mistake that will get her into trouble and fix things for her.

Victor is probably the least tolerant of her stupidity. He always calls her out whenever she suggests or do something foolish. It’s how she got that nickname dummy in the first place. Most of the time before MC commits something terrible, Victor would have already saved her in advance. That’s why you need to always ask him first before doing something! This actually parallels chapter 21 when she had to ask Victor once again before deciding what to do after feeling so lost.

Lucien is very fond of her naivete and childish behavior. He even calls her “my little fool”. For some reason, mc acts even more childish around Lucien compare to other guys. And Lucien thinks she’s especially cute when she acts silly and makes her blush for it. MC also owes him a lot for saving her show because the way she tries to argue why her show shouldn’t end makes me think she is really clueless on how to run a company.

Gavin has always been saving MC for her lack of precaution; risking his life several times whenever she got into trouble and never once calling her out for all the recklessness she exhibited. When MC almost died in Loveland TV tower, Gavin came at the nick of time to save her. And after doing so, he even comforted her by saying she did the right thing and that her actions saved the lives of many people, not even once mentioning the part where she almost loses her life for doing that. Countless times he saved MC and he never complained about his injuries nor the things he had gone through for her.

Kiro is not only tolerant, he also encourages her. “You can be as stupid as you want around me.” He also tries to act stupid and childish when he’s with MC so she would never feel alone. They always talk and do silly things all the time together. MC wants to do something dangerous? He’ll tag along.

MC was so spoiled by the guys! it’s no wonder that she keeps on stumbling upon one bad decision after another. Now that she’s on her own, her lack of precaution and critical thinking is finally having some real consequences.

[artdaily7]

The Golden Verses of Pythagoras by Pythagoras

1. First worship the Immortal Gods, as they are established and ordained by the Law. 2. Reverence the Oath, and next the Heroes, full of goodness and light. 3. Honour likewise the Terrestrial Daemons by rendering them the worship lawfully due to them. 4. Honour likewise your parents, and those most nearly related to you. 5. Of all the rest of mankind, make him your friend who distinguishes himself by his virtue. 6. Always give ear to his mild exhortations, and take example from his virtuous and useful actions. 7. Avoid as much as possible hating your friend for a slight fault. 8. Power is a near neighbour to necessity. 9. Know that all these things are just as what I have told you; and accustom yourself to overcome and vanquish these passions:-- 10. First gluttony, sloth, sensuality, and anger. 11. Do nothing evil, neither in the presence of others, nor privately; 12. But above all things respect yourself. 13. In the next place, observe justice in your actions and in your words. 14. And do not accustom yourself to behave yourself in any thing without rule, and without reason. 15. But always make this reflection, that it is ordained by destiny that all men shall die. 16. And that the goods of fortune are uncertain; and that just as they may be acquired, they may likewise be lost. 17. Concerning all the calamities that men suffer by divine fortune, 18. Support your lot with patience, it is what it may be, and never complain at it. 19. But endeavour what you can to remedy it. 20. And consider that fate does not send the greatest portion of these misfortunes to good men. 21. There are many sorts of reasonings among men, good and bad; 22. Do not admire them too easily, nor reject them. 23. But if falsehoods are advanced, hear them with mildness, and arm yourself with patience. 24. Observe well, on every occasion, what I am going to tell you:-- 25. Do not let any man either by his words, or by his deeds, ever seduce you. 26. Nor lure you to say or to do what is not profitable for yourself. 27. Consult and deliberate before you act, that you may not commit foolish actions. 28. For it is the part of a miserable man to speak and to act without reflection. 29. But do the thing which will not afflict you afterwards, nor oblige you to repentance. 30. Never do anything which you do not understand. 31. But learn all you ought to know, and by that means you will lead a very pleasant life. 32. in no way neglect the health of your body; 33. But give it drink and meat in due measure, and also the exercise of which it needs. 34. Now by measure I mean what will not discomfort you. 35. Accustom yourself to a way of living that is neat and decent without luxury. 36. Avoid all things that will occasion envy. 37. And do not be prodigal out of season, like someone who does not know what is decent and honourable. 38. Neither be covetous nor stingy; a due measure is excellent in these things. 39. Only do the things that cannot hurt you, and deliberate before you do them. 40. Never allow sleep to close your eyelids, after you went to bed, 41. Until you have examined all your actions of the day by your reason. 42. In what have I done wrong? What have I done? What have I omitted that I ought to have done? 43. If in this examination you find that you have done wrong, reprove yourself severely for it; 44. And if you have done any good, rejoice. 45. Practise thoroughly all these things; meditate on them well; you ought to love them with all your heart. 46. It is those that will put you in the way of divine virtue. 47. I swear it by he who has transmitted into our souls the Sacred Quaternion, the source of nature, whose cause is eternal. 48. But never begin to set your hand to any work, until you have first prayed the gods to accomplish what you are going to begin. 49. When you have made this habit familiar to you, 50. You will know the constitution of the Immortal Gods and of men. 51. Even how far the different beings extend, and what contains and binds them together. 52. You shall likewise know that according to Law, the nature of this universe is in all things alike, 53. So that you shall not hope what you ought not to hope; and nothing in this world shall be hidden from you. 54. You will likewise know, that men draw upon themselves their own misfortunes voluntarily, and of their own free choice. 55. Unhappy they are! They neither see nor understand that their good is near them. 56. Few know how to deliver themselves out of their misfortunes. 57. Such is the fate that blinds humankind, and takes away his senses. 58. Like huge cylinders they roll back and forth, and always oppressed with innumerable ills. 59. For fatal strife, natural, pursues them everywhere, tossing them up and down; nor do they perceive it. 60. Instead of provoking and stirring it up, they ought to avoid it by yielding. 61. Oh! Jupiter, our Father! If you would deliver men from all the evils that oppress them, 62. Show them of what daemon they make use. 63. But take courage; the race of humans is divine. 64. Sacred nature reveals to them the most hidden mysteries. 65. If she impart to you her secrets, you will easily perform all the things which I have ordained thee. 66. And by the healing of your soul, you wilt deliver it from all evils, from all afflictions. 67. But you should abstain from the meats, which we have forbidden in the purifications and in the deliverance of the soul; 68. Make a just distinction of them, and examine all things well. 69. Leave yourself always to be guided and directed by the understanding that comes from above, and that ought to hold the reins. 70. And when, after having deprived yourself of your mortal body, you arrived at the most pure Aither, 71. You shall be a God, immortal, incorruptible, and Death shall have no more dominion over you.

John Singer Sargent 1921 Orestes Pursued by the Furies, oil on canvas, Museum of Fine Arts, Boston

note: In The Iliad, the king of Argos, Agamemnon, sacrifices his daughter Iphigenia to the Gods to assure good sailing weather to Troy. In Agamemnon, the first play of Aeschylus's Oresteia trilogy, Agamemnon is murdered by his wife, Clytemnestra, and her lover, Aegisthus as revenge for sacrificing Iphigenia. In The Libation Bearers, the second play of the Orestia, Agamemnon's son Orestes returns home to take revenge on his mother for murdering his father.

Orestes ultimately does murder his mother, and afterward is tormented by The Furies, beings who personify the anger of the dead