#i am the only one living in the house who forgets things and makes mistakes

[performing-personhood]

[Scene: two married people discuss the day's upcoming dinner, the narrator and her partner. Wearing shoes and preparing for a quick run to the shop, he is shutting the crisper drawer and withdrawing from the refrigerator.]

"Those chicken breasts are still very frozen."

Yeah, ugh I didn't plan far enough in advance. Again. I'm sorry!

"OK, well I can figure something out for dinner."

I mean, it's YOUR weekend. Cooking dinner is my job!

"It is, and you suck at it."

Ok but in my defense, this is a full-time job and I really only slack off once or twice a week. Which is pretty good for a full-time job.

"It's really not though."

[They stare at each other expectantly. A moment of silence elapses.]

Okay, well, sorry? Fuck me then, I guess.

[He shuts his eyes in exasperation and holds them closed. Another moment of silence elapses.]

Just. Bring home an ingredient you want for dinner and I'll cook with it.

"..... we'll see how it goes. I'll be back in a bit."

Alright, bye then.

[He exits.]

[The narrator picks up her phone, intent on sharing this frustrating experience. Seeing nobody appropriate in the chat but still feeling an intense desire to capture the conversation verbatim before it fades, she decides a post is in order and decides to script the whole thing in a Tumblr post instead. She is sure that, once written out, it will be clear which one of the two was being an asshole. Disappointingly, this does not transpire as being the case.]

[Fade to black.]

[letshaikyuu]

pretty setter squad (kageyama, akaashi, oikawa) with their s/o post-practice

a/n: lol hello, I honestly just come here when I am knees deep in uni shit and I should be writing a paper rn but I am writing this heh. hope you all are happy and healthy, and wishing you a lovely month of May soon!

warning: oh definitely some grammar mistakes so i apologize if that triggers you :3

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KAGEYAMA TOBIO

y'all know our boy is dead tired after practice and needed much persuading to finish practice, let alone come home. he only wishes to jump in the shower, eat a hearty meal, lay down in bed, and not move. most of the time he does forget to text you once he's back home, but it's mostly because he's dead tired and wants to chill. he'd be super confused and apologetic at the same time if you were disappointed and/or anxious if he didn't text you that he was home.

if you two don't live together, I imagine him finishing his post-practice routines and then laying down in bed with his washed hair wetting the pillow while he waits for you to video call him. I don't think he'd be the one to initiate a conversation first, especially when he is one minute away from falling asleep, but he does admit that hearing your voice before bed is the best thing ever. while on call, you would do most of the talking, while he nods and occasionally chuckles in amusement, until ultimately dozing off while on call. make sure to take a lot of screenshots of that face because he can either have the most peaceful look on his face and you just have to have that angelic face in your gallery; or he can have the most ridiculous type of face on, with a lil drool, some snoring happening...

if you two do live together, you'd be greeted with a sweaty body just dropping its total weight on you because he's just so tired and also wants to annoy you with him being all sweaty and smelly on you. it's difficult to actually get him to move, especially because he gets rather comfortable in such a position. when you finally get him off, he goes off to shower and spends so much time there you're pretty sure he falls asleep there. he asks you to prepare a hot cup of milk for him once he gets out. you'd get such a gentle kiss on your cheek or lips because he is already dozing off and it'd be such an adorable sight, especially with his freshly washed and dried hair tickling the softness of your cheek and the smell of his body wash enveloping the both of you.

ngl, he would easily fall asleep without you in bed because he's just dead tired lol

AKAASHI KEIJI

he never forgets to call and/or text you once he's done and out of the gym because he knows you'd be worried otherwise. if you live together, he makes sure to ask you if you need anything from the convenience store and also asks you to prepare a hot cup of tea for him (for the two of you if you are also a tea drinker). even if you say you don't need anything from the store, he stops by and buys your favorite snacks and some of his own. i do think his favorite thing to do post-practice is to sit down on the couch with you and talk about your day. i do headcanon him to have a sweet tooth, so he is enjoying that cup of tea with some crackers or cookies and definitely enjoys hearing some of your tea ngl.

even though he is super tired, he cannot fall asleep without you beside him. he finds it interesting how dependent he has become on you, especially if you have moved in together recently. if he is not super tired, he'd move to the bed with a book by his side and read until you're finished with your evening routine and lie down. if he is exhausted, then he forgoes the book, he then lays down and toys with your pillowcase so he doesn't fall asleep. if you take long he definitely closes his eyes and then jolts awake once you get in bed, but he only pulls you closer, kisses you, and falls asleep.

akaashi who does not live with you is fairly similar. while walking back to his house, he'd call you and chat with you until he arrives. you'd end the call while he finishes his shower (maybe not) and dinner, and he'd call you right back once he's done. he then sits down in bed with a cup of tea and a cookie or two on his bedside table, his phone in an active call with you. he may be tired but makes sure to listen to you intently, and when he is almost falling asleep, he apologizes for not paying more attention to you (because he's such a sweetheart like that ngl) and then gives you one of those air kisses before turning around and ultimately falling asleep.

OIKAWA TOORU

he ALWAYS calls you when he's done with practice because this guy has tea to spill from the day. he is so enthusiastic and vibrant that you would think he went out for a cup of coffee and not coming back from volleyball practice. legend says (aka iwaizumi) that he is a part of the Walking Dead in the locker room but always puts on the best version of himself when you're around. when he's finally at the front of his house, he makes sure to be as quiet as possible so he doesn't wake his family up and then says he'll call you once he's in bed.

now, Oikawa does sometimes fall asleep without showering or anything which is definitely a shocking statement for someone as tidy and clean as Oikawa, I can easily imagine him just face-planting on his bed and saying he'd get up in 5 minutes and just falling asleep lol. however, that's a rare occasion and also he'd wake up once you text/call him anyway. you will be on a video call while he's doing his skincare routine because he needs to show you that soft-ass skin and all his products.

oikawa who lives with you is very much needy once he's back home. he wants a hug as soon as he's home because he misses you so much and he'd like to have dinner together with you. i don't think he's the best cook out there, but he knows how to prepare some bomb-ass meals for pre-/post-workouts. of course, if you're not up for that he can stomach a cup of ramen. the night is not complete without him spilling the tea on every mishap that happened during practice and also inquiring about your day. he falls asleep on the couch and spills whatever food he's holding in his hands. this leads to him startling awake and screaming at the mess he's made...it's never a dull moment with this guy.

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[elysiansparadise]

hello ~ I am not sure if you did this one yet, but I will ask you just in case: what are your thoughts on Mercury in the 6th House? I’d deeply appreciate your perspective on this. 🌟

I’d like for you to know how often I look forward to reading your posts, for they are incredibly insightful and neatly noted. I’m certain many would agree with these sentiments. please do keep up the amazing work! I hope your New Year will bring you a series of wonderfully memorable events ~ !

Hello love! Thank you so much for the support and taking the time to write that note down, it makes me very happy. 🤭💗

Mercury in the 6th house

We find one of the best positions for Mercury, since being in this house, it favors the native with a surprising intellect and eye for detail. They don't miss anything, they have an analytical, active mind, even restless at times. They enjoy a good mental challenge and always seem willing to learn from those things that spark their curiosity. These natives are usually excellent at planning, managing details and solving problems. Likewise, they can fall into the multi-talented archetype, since they can develop many different skills throughout their life, due to their need to stay busy and know how to do things on their own. They may have particular talent for design, writing, any type of communication, drawing and other activities where precision is necessary. They have an aptitude for learning new skills, including those that are job-related. These natives are willing to acquire new knowledge and continually improve their abilities of all kinds, and can be very perfectionist and demanding of themselves. They are very good people at planning, and very rarely go unnoticed, because they seem to be one step ahead... or simply because of their observation skills they can accurately predict the actions of others or the outcome of things.

They have the ability to handle multiple tasks at once and often put themselves under a lot of stress by wanting to do too much at the same time. Although it is worth mentioning that natives with this placement are usually efficient and capable of managing several responsibilities simultaneously. There is a tendency to be meticulous and careful in their work. People with this position seek precision and avoid mistakes. They stand out for being people who tend to approach problems rationally and look for practical solutions, they dislike unnecessary drama and to beat around the bush. They are prone to nervous system conditions, anxiety, having problems sleeping, and/or dealing with a lot of stress throughout their lives. I have seen both cases, from being either very careful with the issue of health or forgetting to take care of yourself due to your multiple responsibilities. They may feel great interest in topics of self-improvement, personal care, health, animals, environmental preservation, exercise, and both physical and mental health.

They can stand out a lot in the school and work environment, especially in the latter, as they can be workers with excellent ethics and who constantly look for workshops or other ways to work and perfect their skills. They may work in a place with a lot of gossip. If Mercury is well aspected, it is very likely that you will have a cordial relationship with your co-workers, while if it makes tense aspects to Pluto, Neptune or Mars, aggressive communication or rivalry is likely to be common. Even if they know how to work in a team, they usually prefer to do it on their own, as bad experiences with teamwork can be common, making them feel that only by working on their own they reduce the margin of error and ensure that they will not be rushed in the deadline. It is worth mentioning that although they know how to work well under pressure, they would prefer not to do so in the first place. They are objective people who listen carefully and investigate before speaking, they hate jumping to conclusions and prefer to give their opinion once they know everything about a certain situation. Their advice is very useful and, although they only pretend to be practical or state the obvious, they end up saying just what the other person needs to put their feet on the ground or better understand a certain situation.

-> Go back to the masterlist

[keruimi]

His Definition of Love

Pairing: Akaashi Keiji x reader

Warning: Angst, Trauma, Comfort

Note: Oh how I badly want to hear from someone, the words he uttered. I'm not really a big fan of him but damn, this oneshot made me start liking him. Hope you all enjoy it!

_____________________________

When I was young, the person I loved the most was my father.

A person I would choose over others. A man who was the reason I grew up in a comfortable and loving family in my childhood days.

A father and a husband that anyone would love to have. I vowed to myself that time that I would love the same man that resembles my dad.

Until across the bridge where he used to take me, I found him embracing another woman than my mom.

It was one of the memories that always reminded me that everyone has their own bad sides.

No matter how kind, nice, and loveable my father was, he still broke my mom's heart leading to the downfall of our family who was once envied by many.

I was so young back then that I disregard my mother's heartbreak and keep siding with my father no matter how she keeps begging me to choose her.

I hate how I used to think back then.

Just because I don't want to lose my father.

"Little one" my father called me as the sobs of my mother is the only thing I heard in the house as I tightly clutch on my father's body.

I keep crying especially when he successfully removes me from his legs before he crouches in front of me.

"Little one, please stay with your mom. I don't want to influence your pure heart, dear"

The tears on my father's eyes made it clear to me that day that he was not pure as I saw him.

That he really did something I thought he would never do.

My father suffered because of the complicated emotions he has. He loved my mother but he also liked other women.

So does that make me want to hate him?

Yes, so badly. But I also knew that he is aware of his mistakes, aware of how those complicated feelings that ruined the family he once built.

I caught up with it.

But for the best, he made me stay with my mom in fear that I would take after his footsteps if I did live with him.

He is the man who wanted the best for me.

I saw my father in such a way that I blamed my mother for leaving him just because of one mistake, forgetting all the good things that my father did for us.

But that was the first time that my father made me open my eyes to the reality of the world.

He was guilty, not innocent. He is the cause of our heartbreak, not the victim.

He explained to me that even a nice man like him can become a man I wouldn't want to love me.

He is unfaithful, one of the unforgivable sins that destroys one's marriage.

He was not always perfect, he also fell into temptations.

In other words, he doesn't want me to turn into someone like him.

So I decided to stay with my mom to become someone she can lean on. But I knew how my presence broke my mother, because I greatly reminded her of my father.

I finally understand our family's situation and my father's character the moment I step into junior high.

I can't stay liking one man.

When I like someone, I would start to like someone who I deemed better than him.

And it was scary. That I would be the reason for someone's heartbreak.

I finally understand how complicated feelings are. And my father never found a solution to that problem.

He really loves my mom. But if he did love her, then why would he like another woman?

Yet I can't bear to hate my own dad. Because I went through the same obstacles.

If ever I ask my mom for advice, I know that she will remember my dad again so I didn't bother anymore.

Seeing my mother's situation, I told myself that I would just stay alone for my entire life.

Before history repeats itself.

I rejected many men because I was hell-bent on being single.

I am fine with admiring different men every time I deemed them as someone great.

And that would be no different on Akaashi Keiji.

A calm and composed setter who always seems to control their Ace's movement.

He knows the country's Top 5 Ace like the back of his hand.

He is a gentleman, a one of a kind man.

And a person who reminded me of my father's good side.

I groaned in frustration as I slid down on the wall I lean on after watching Fukurodani's match. The frustration I felt when I couldn't get my eyes off of him.

Deep down, I want a family where I would run to. But if I selfishly did that, it would turn into ruins as I started showing signs of my non existing loyalty.

Like a curse that the memory engraved to my mind.

That's why my secret admiration for him surprisingly lasted for a year.

Even if we just passed by each other, the giddy feeling on my chest never left as I always find my eyes looking for him.

He is really perfect.

That even if I started liking one man, whether I catch a glimpse of him, that admiration would disappear and my heart would be set to him again.

Like a damn cycle.

But with my feelings this way, I don't want to take a risk.

Until we met on the school's rooftop.

The time he first came up to me just to lend his handkerchief when he noticed how my tears seemed to escape from my eyes.

A man who showed his concern to a complete stranger.

How can I be loyal?

That is always the question that keeps repeating on my head like a broken record.

I want to be happy, to be in a relationship, to give the love I keep to myself.

I wanted to express my emotions, but I am afraid that it will be poisonous.

That's the reason why he found me on the rooftop, crying. Because I can't take it anymore.

Those fear of betrayal that I might let others experience, keep holding me back from freely loving someone.

That love that I want to give to the man standing in front of me.

"I'm here"

He uttered the same words that my father used to tell me whether I keep crying.

"I'm scared" An emotion that showed the worst part of me.

"That I can't keep loving the same man forever"

It was the greatest fear that my father felt. And when he tried to go against it, that nightmare happened and he lost everything.

Including my trust in him.

Now I'm having a hard time with the same challenge.

Whether I need to go against it or just keep avoiding it.

"What do you mean by that?" There was not a hint of judging from his voice. He simply asked me to open up for him.

And I desperately clutch to that chance of letting out everything.

He unknowingly became someone I can open up with, without the fear of judgement and simply understanding one's problem.

"I can't stay liking one man"

"And?" He stated that made me finally look at him as we waited for my next words.

"And it scares me..." I trailed off, hesitating on my words until a small smile lifted from his lips.

"That's normal" I felt like my world stopped when he let out those words.

"Infatuation, puppy love, or having a crush is normal in our age. It's not a permanent attachment that you need to get scared of." He continued as he decided to sit in front of me so it was easier to continue the conversation.

"Like and love are two different concepts but has an oddly similar meaning" he continues as he moves two of his fingers.

"Liking is when you feel happy with them, watching them, admiring them but it was simply a temporary emotion that is a shallow version of the word Love. Liking someone because he has something you love is its definition"

"But if we're talking about love, it's a more powerful emotion like hate. Love is when you stay with the person you like no matter how much the world wants you to separate. Loving someone is when you accept their flaws and shortcomings. When you understand how they act. When you are there on their lowest like you were with them at their highest moments" his smile never left his lips and I felt like my chest lightened up a little.

"Love is not always about happiness, it will always be tested by challenges." He leaned down for our eyes to meet and I felt him softly gaze on my own ones.

"I don't know what you went through to think that way. But life is always about developing one's self. You might look down on yourself right now and get scared, but one day, you will need to face it. Challenges would never stop coming, but you will know who truly loves you when they join you with it" he removed the strands of my hair that was on my face as he tucked it behind my ear.

"You can't be happy without healing yourself"

Those words gave me the strength to finally face my father.

The man who I once look up to. But the one who is also the root of all my fears.

"This is the first time you finally faced me after all these years" he spoke up first before he faced the sunset in front of us.

"Dad" I called out as I saw how he fisted his hands but he kept his eyes in front.

"I don't deserve to be your father" he muttered as I felt my eyes turn glossy.

"What is love for you?" I whispered, ignoring his previous worrds. Because he was still the father who love me and my mother.

"I never found the real definition of that word. I only know that when I really felt the unexplainable happiness with that one person" he replied with a shaky breath.

I know how it was difficult to face me.

One of the people who really love him, and can hate him.

"Did dad love mom?"

We were silent before he finally spoke the words I badly need to hear.

"I love your mom so much. But I didn't manage to protect the relationship we both have" he finally chose to face me as I saw a small smile adorned his lips yet his eyes portrayed a different feeling.

"My insecurities clouded my mind that I didn't manage to think of the consequences. The fear that I keep following me finally catch up to me" he manage to let out.

"My daughter might be asking herself that if I indeed love your mother, why would I seek comfort on another woman, right?" A tear finally slid on his cheeks.

"The fear that your mother would get tired on the way I think, made me seek comfort on another woman. But it was a wrong move of mine, Y/n. I badly regret underestimating your Mom's love for me" he sighed out as he blink his tears away so he won't broke down on me.

"I cheated, and it was a choice, not a mistake"

"I don't want to cause you trauma, but it seems like I already did, didn't I?"

I felt the tears that gather on my eyes finally slid down from cheeks as he wipe his own ones.

"I'm sorry Y/n, I really am" I wiped my own tears as I took a deep breath.

"I hate myself for hurting both of you" he sobbed out.

And without any other words, I wrapped my arms around him, the things that he always done to me.

I badly wanted to heal...

And I knew I need to start with my family.

And if we finally manage, maybe...

I would start to look at myself differently.

Like what he told me.

"Keiji!" I cheered from the bleachers as his team managed to win in the semi-finals.

The happiness I felt was indescribable as the man looked up and gave me a smile before taking a bow as a thank you for cheering for them.

I will start healing, and I knew I wanted him to be with me throughout all the way.

And he didn't mind.

The first person I became friends with before that gratefulness turned into an admiration.

A man, even with a different personality and interest, he chose to become someone in my life.

He started as my friend before he became a man I started to love.

The person who never made me feel fear, a man who first lent a shoulder for me to lean on. The first person who made me look at myself differently than what I used to.

The person who understands my problems better and manages to comfort me with the words I wouldn't question myself for.

A guy who made me feel like I was not the person who I think I was.

The person I knew I would want to spend my life with. The man I would grow with, learn from, and love until my last breath.

Right now, I'm clearly aware of how different my thoughts were when I like someone, rather than the way I think when I start to love someone.

I really did start loving Akaashi Keiji.

And this time I am sure that it was really...

The emotion called Love

[halloworhorecrux]

Hear me out...

Andrew Garifield Spiderman is Harry Potter

Gwen Stacey is Draco Malfoy

Just imagine that scene where Spiderman sticks Gwen to the car and she screams out " Peter" only it's Draco screaming out "Potter'

Harry: I gotta go

Draco: I'm coming with you

Harry: Draco, your not coming with me

Draco: Yes I am

Harry: Draco, it's too dangerous

Draco: I'm coming with you, I know the wards and know how to reset the entire system.

Harry: *covers mouth

Draco: I'm coming with you. You know that you need me----

Harry: okay okay. Your coming with me shut the thing.

Sorry, I love you. Don't hate me.

Draco: POTTER!

************************************************

Draco: What's your name?

Harry: You don't know my name?

Draco: " I know your name, I just want to know if you know your name."

Harry: Potter--

Draco:

Harry: Potter, Harry Potter.

*************************************************

Draco : No, dad, I don't want cocoa . Honestly, I'm 17 years old.

Lucius: My mistake. I just thought I remembered somebody saying last week that his fantasy was to live in a chocolate house

Draco: Well that's impractical!* slams door*

*opens door* and fattening! *slams door*

Harry: * smirk* Chocolate house?

*********************************************

Dinner at Malfoy Manor, Lucius is a spokesman for Ministry

Narcissa: Well, did you catch that spider guy?

Lucius: No, we didn't catch him, but we will. He's an amature who is assaulting civilians in the dead of night He' s clumsy. He leaves clues, but he is still dangerous. If we wanted the death eaters off the street, we would have them off the street

Harry: So why haven't you?

Lucius: What are trying to say?

Harry: I'm trying to say that he's trying to help, maybe he's doing something the aurors can't.

********************************************

Auror Mad Eye Moody: Who are you?

Spiderman Harry: No one seems to grasp the concept of the mask. I've done 80% of your jobs. Huh, that! That's how you repay me

***********************************************

Draco: Really, you webbed me to a car?!?! What are you a caveman?

Harry: You shouldn't be here

Draco: Tie me up while you go off to war

Harry: It's not safe here

Draco: I know how to help you!

Harry: What are you doing here

Draco: I know the wards

Harry: that's not the point

Draco: I can reset the system

Harry: You can't be here right now. I'm not messing around. You can't be here, ok. This isn't safe

Draco: Oh, you know what, nobody makes my decisions for me, alright, nobody. This is my choice, my choice, mine.

But with a happy ending because I need the good vibes,

We can backpack this....like maybe he thinks he dies, but somehow comes back as *Gwen spiderwoman* version

Like everyone was oblivated to forget Draco, and so they meet again like the Spiderman into the spider verse in college

Draco: oh, are you okay?

Harry: What? *why am I so sweaty *

Draco: Why are you so sweaty?

Harry: It's a puberty thing. I don't know why I said that. I'm not going through puberty. I did, but I'm done. I'm A MaN.

So you're like new here? We got that in common

Draco: Sure, that's something.

Harry: I'm Harry

Draco: I'm Draaa--go

Harry: Wait, your name is Drago

Draco: Yes, it's Italian. I'm from Italy. No accent, though, cause I was raised here.

(In this scenario, Harry has been hit with a curse that makes his webbing leak in his sweet. Harry tried to do the shoulder touch he learned from Sirius.)

Harry: * Why is this so scary? Am I doing this is slow motion or does it just feel that way*

Draco: I'm kidding, it's... Drake. Not draegon, that would be weird.

Harry: hEY

Draco : Okay then .. uh. I'll see you around

Harry: oh see you. *hand sticks to hair*

Draco: *tries to get away* Hey.

Harry: Oh crap

Draco: Uh, can you let go, please?

Harry: *pulls*

Draco: OW OW OW. It's fine.

Harry: I can't let go

Draco: Harry, let go

Harry: It's just puberty

Draco: I don't think you know what puberty is.

Just relax.

Harry: Okay, I have a plan, I'm going to pull really hard

Draco: That's a terrible plan

Harry: one

Draco: don't do this

Harry: two

Draco: three * flips him*

Harry: ahhhhhhhhhh

Buzz of clippers

Harry: Nice to meet you

Draco: Sure. Total pleasure

**********************************************

After they know secret identities

Harry: wait wait hold on there is a secret society of crime fighting vigilantes.

Draco: Okay, there's this lady, Dorcas Meadows. She rides a motorcycle. Oh, merlin. I'm am learning so much from her.

Harry: Oh yea, I have a mentor, too. I'm leveled up my whole thing

*********************************************

The betrayal

Draco: I--I didn't know how to tell you

Harry: That's why you never came to see me

Draco: Harry, it's for your own good

Harry: Who decided that, Draco. I'm not kid anymore.

Draco: I told you, Harry. In every other universe, I fall in love with you. And in every other universe, it doesn't end well.

Harry: *smiles* There's a first time for everything . Well,what do you think?

Draco: What I always think. You're amazing

And they live happily ever after....

[ruhorih4ra]

Hi! ฅ⁠^⁠•⁠ﻌ⁠•⁠^⁠ฅ

First of all, I want to extend a very heartfelt apology to the fellow sheep that belong to the Anti-Lucifer League JAJAJA because this chapter is completely about the viejo sabroso.

What did you say? that my favoritism is showing? That's ridiculous.

(I promise all of them will have their own special moment with Mc, yes even the killer cow.)

I kind of thought I had already put spoilers warnings in the first part but heheh surprise! I didn't! <⁠(⁠￣⁠︶⁠￣⁠)⁠> not much of a spoiler but I wrote the fic without explaining things that won't make sense if you haven't finished the game? (God I don't know but I think I did because I do that all the fucking time)

Part 15!

Get out of my way 🌈

“I hurt your brothers.” You said, curtly. Admitting it felt worse than you had expected. Your eyes were glued to your hands, avoiding those of the older brother, who hadn’t uttered a single word. “You were right when we met, I wasn’t and I am not trustworthy.” You couldn’t help the slight tremble in your voice. “I shouldn’t live in the house of lamentation anymore.” Lucifer remained silent.

“I shouldn’t be your master.” You finally said, feeling a pain in your chest that you were getting used to. You searched for Lucifer’s eyes expecting to see disappointment and anger, but to your surprise he had turned around and now you could only stare at his broad back.

He had turned around since your first confession, he was as much afraid to meet your gaze as you were of looking his. He knew you would be angry and ready to leave them as you should have since the first time he dared to threaten you. He knew it was for the best and wouldn’t have the nerve to deny you, not after he proved to be unworthy.

And then you spoke and he cursed the relief he felt, of course you would take all the blame, of course you would forget about their mistakes and the way they had hurt you too. You were like a mirror years ago, accepting all the pain and never asking why, forgive and forget. But Lucifer knows best, that path only has one end and the fall is long and painful.

The Avatar of Pride was tired. First, you wandered through the Devildom in complete solitude, getting hurt by who knows who without him being able to reach you, much less stopping them. Then, his brother almost died in his arms without him being able to do anything. No matter how hard he tries, the ones he loves the most are always out of reach. He looked at you and noticed how you had lost weight, another thing he had failed at.

“How old do you think I am, Mc?” He asked. The sudden question left you confused but you laughed nonetheless. “Jurassic Park brings memories?” You joked and he turned around with a small smile gracing his lips. “I’ll let that slide.” He walked towards the couch. “I’m very old.” Lucifer said as he sat on the sofa, next to you.

You smiled, still confused by the sudden change of topic, but decided to go with it, after all, whatever he wanted to say couldn’t be as painful as what you had to say. You took a strand of black hair, those few that were white at the very end, and replied. “I can see that.” Your eyes finally met and it wasn’t painful or filled with distrust. It was nice, simply nice. Both of you laughed.

“As I was saying, dear. I have lived for quite some time now. In fact, I am at least ten million years older than you.” Lucifer was smiling, caressing your hand with his thumb. You remained quiet, suddenly very aware of Lucifer’s face of fatigue and glassy eyes. “Naturally, my brothers are rather old too.”

You swallowed hard before removing your hand from Lucifer’s touch. As much as you wanted to go back to the same old routine, you knew it wouldn’t be long before the guilt ate you alive. “I don’t understand how this has anything to do with the fact that I hurt your family.” Your hand brushed the places that Lucifer had touched, something that didn’t go unnoticed by the demon. “I told them horrible things, you know that?” You watched carefully Lucifer’s face, waiting for his reaction. “I ordered them too, just like I ordered you to shut up.” The avatar of pride seemed absent, unamused. “I even thought of…” you forced the words out. “of hurt them, physically. Seriously harm them.” A couple of silent tears rolled down your face.

Lucifer wiped them gently, as slowly as he could, because he knew that was all he would ever get. “I think about physically hurting them almost every day.” Lucifer said, in a playful tone you couldn’t bear. “Stop! I’m not playing, Lucifer! This is serious, I tried and succeeded. I harmed them!” You hit Lucifer’s chest and, to your surprise, he stifled a whimper.

You came to a halt immediately, looking a drop of sweat slide off from his forehead. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?” The prideful demon tried to get up but you were faster, or maybe it was just Lucifer giving up. You opened his already torn shirt to reveal a burnt wound of your pact mark, as if it had been branded with a hot iron. “What the fuck is that?” You stopped Lucifer from buttoning his shirt. “What happened? Tell me.” You fought a silent staring battle until Lucifer sighed. “You called us through the pact but it was…” the demon was searching for the right words but knew that the human in front of him wouldn’t listen. “It was uncertain. I don’t know what happened.”

You laughed bitterly. “You know what happened, you’re ten million years older, aren’t you? What happened, Lucifer?” He rubbed his face. “It’s not your fault.” You put your hand on his chest, pressing slightly harder. He winced in pain. “That’s not what I asked.” You said. He took your wrist but made no effort to stop you. On the contrary, he pushed your hand further into his chest. “It’s not your fault.”

You looked into his eyes as you pressed more. “...” He was clearly surprised, but it was difficult to express it since he was fighting the urge to scream. “Very well, Mc. That’s enough.” An immediate expression of relief reached his face the moment you removed your hand from his thorax. “I appreciate the romantic gesture but I want to know the truth Lucifer.”

“That’s the truth, it wasn’t your fault. You called us but it wasn’t on purpose. It was a reflex. Not a spell, but directionless magic.”, “So I hurt you even when I didn’t mean to.” You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. “The only way you could do it.” Lucifer thought but he decided to keep that to himself.

“Mc, we have lived through worse.” The avatar of pride took your chin and forced you to see him. “We can endure this and more. What about you? What we did to you.” You pushed his hand once more. Lucifer tried to bury the pain he felt every time you decided to avert his touch, but it didn’t hurt any less. “Don’t be stupid, Lucifer. What did you do? Replaced me?” You gestured with your hand before he could deny anything. “And so what? I should have acted like a normal person and just leave.” You said. “Instead of developing a damn curse.” You thought, bitterly.

“I’m glad you didn’t leave.” He knew that was selfish and unfair, he knew he was no better than a little kid throwing a tantrum. “I can’t say the same.” You murmured.

You had called Levi more than the others, you had wanted to see him so badly and perhaps that’s why he almost died. It was ironic and twisted, but now it was obvious. The Little D. of envy really did a number on you and that little show he threw. You fell into their trap like a fool. The more you thought about it, the more anger grew inside you. You would get your revenge, all of those little demons would pay one way or another.

You were starting to regret having stopped Lucifer from leaving when he wanted, once again the conversation ended in nothing good, what you had wanted to say was left unsaid and forming a big and painful lump in your throat. You saw Lucifer from the corner of the eye and your heart skipped a beat. You had to make sure you weren’t seeing things. “You want to leave.” He said, letting you cup his face and watching your gaze full of worry, and once he looked at himself through your eyes he found out why.

“Don’t cry, Lucifer. I’m going to cry too.” You saw a single tear slide until it reached Lucifer’s soft smile. He had cried before, when his brothers were sleeping and silence was unbearable, when he is alone with a life full of memories, painful memories. He knows the art of suffering, the art of breaking down in solitude. However, it had been a long time since he had cried in front of anyone.

“Just because you can endure it doesn’t mean you have to.” You said, recalling his previous words. “Love shouldn’t burn.” The picture of that burn on the demon’s chest refused to leave your mind. Lucifer straightened up and took your hands again, hoping you wouldn’t reject him this time. “This unfortunate incident got out of hand.” He cleared his throat and you rolled your eyes, still finding comfort in Lucifer’s mannerism. “As an ancient and very wise demon, you should really trust my words.” You let escape a little laugh and hummed in response. “Love shouldn’t burn but it does, not always, but there are times, and even after touching the flame we tend to admit that it was worth it.”

“I know you’re not looking for metaphors and I’m not trying to sugarcoat my words. We hurt each other badly. There are no kind words to face the truth but, regardless of how selfish and naive I sound, I’m confident that we can fix it.” He tried to caress your cheek but ultimately decided against it. “I know I can fix it.” All the worries of the past few weeks were finally getting to him. You murmured Lucifer’s name, it was evident that he was crumbling.

“I assure you that I’ll never let this happen again.” Another round of silent tears fell from his eyes. You couldn’t take it anymore, you extended your arms towards him but, this time was his turn to move aside from you. “It’s okay, I’m fine. You don’t have to force yourself.” He said, already regretting his next words. “I know you don’t want me to comfort you, I know you’re not fond of my touch.”

You frowned. “Why do you think that?” You questioned, but Lucifer didn’t want to answer, he was afraid his voice would fail. He didn’t want to show you more of this pitiful side of him. His silence forced you to think, looking back at your previous interactions you realized that although not on purpose, you had still avoided his touch several times. “Lucifer, how can you believe that?”

“Is it not true? Don’t you repulse the idea of me approaching you?” He knew how needy he sounded. He also knew lacking confidence wasn’t his style and probably not what you would expect from the Avatar of Pride but it didn’t matter, he wanted to know.

Looking at an imperfect Lucifer was always unnerving, you’ve seen him before and it never ceases to amaze you how even when he’s crumbling he looks ethereal. Although you didn’t hate it, you preferred his more full-of-himself self.

“I don’t know.” You replied, climbing onto his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck. “What does it look like, my morning star?” you rested your forehead on his, amused at Lucifer’s surprise. He cursed how infatuated for you he was, both the searing pain from his wounds and the memories of your rejections immediately faded when he felt your hands in his hair. It had been a long time since he saw heaven, but your eyes were more than enough to evoke it. “It seems that you pity me.”

He looked how you closed your eyes, a small and genuine smile gracing your face. “Now you’re only pressing your luck, love.” You said, unaware of the happiness you had aroused in him. “Say it again.”

“Now you’re only pressing your luck?” You pretended to be confused. He narrowed his eyes, feigning annoyance at your teasing but it was no use, once he let you see his soft side you could see through all of his facades. “Please?” He asked and you nearly gasped at how ridiculously innocent he looked.

“You’re a real menace, love.” You whispered in his ear and so did he. “Look who’s talking.” He was quick, one hand on your hips while the other cupped your chin. He was slow, your lips were as close as they could be without touching, a clear request from the demon. “Do you still think I don’t like your touch?” You questioned, lips slightly brushing as you murmured.

Lucifer wanted to kiss you, his grip on your hip was tight and his breath was uneven. You drove him crazy. He was certain that you wanted him to initiate the kiss, to show him that you wouldn’t back away, to force him to hang from your hand on the cliff. And so he did. He kissed you, slowly moving his hand from your hip to your back. Enjoying you as a fine wine but drinking you like a thirsty man.

Once that the kiss was broken you shook your head, hugging him and rubbing circles on his back. “I’m sorry, Lucifer, you must be very tired.” He cried against his will, the only way he knows how to. His trembling figure was holding onto you tightly, hiding his tears and shame. “I won’t leave the Devildom, I won’t leave you.” You said softly, trying to put all the love you had into those words. “We can fix this together.” He had stopped crying, soon after he laid his head on your chest. “I apologize for this uncalled for display of weakness.” You pinched his neck in annoyance and he complained with a low growl. “Enough with the fancy attitude. You don’t have to apologize.”

“I love it.” You reassured him, hurt to see him so broken. “I love you.” You said, wiping away his tears. “I’m sorry, I was cruel before.” He shook his head and a long suspire escaped him. “That’s my line, Mc. I said awful things, words I didn’t mean.” He frowned again and you resisted the urge to kiss his discomfort away. “You want to say something else, don’t you?”

“I won’t leave, but I want to stay in Purgatory Hall for some time.” You said, not without hesitation. Lucifer looked directly into your eyes hoping to see some explanation. “You don’t think we can keep you safe.”

“That’s not why.” You hurried to say, watching Lucifer distraught face. “But you won’t tell us who attacked you.” Lucifer moved enough to see your face.

“But surely Barbatos already knows.” You laughed dryly. Did Barbatos really know? Was it possible for him to see the Little D.s in those multiple rooms of his? Did the butler look at them to know the truth? Did he see the past? You felt embarrassed at the mere possibility. Perhaps that was for the best, all of this could finally be over. But where would that leave you? Useless, pathetic, stupid human who couldn’t even defeat their own demons. You watched your hands, useless. You are supposed to be a bridge between the three worlds, you have seven pacts with some of the most powerful beings in hell, your master is the most powerful sorcerer of humanity, that should mean something but… does it?

Are you really special or just a consequence of circumstances? If you couldn’t be of service, if you prove to be weak and incompetent, wouldn’t they be better off with someone like Sc?

But you love them, with all their flaws. You have loved them above anything, putting your own life at risk for them. You didn’t love them because of their intelligence, their strength, or their status. You love them because they were they. They should love you because you are you. So why? Why did they replace you despite all the love they claim to feel? Why did they choose to spend their time with Sc? Why did they treat you like that?

“Is it because I’m not as good looking as her? Or is it because I’m not smart enough? Perhaps I lack what she has to spare.” You saw how Lucifer’s face wrinkled in confusion, of course, he couldn’t read minds (as far as you knew), he wasn’t aware of all the twists and turns you took to end with that question. “What are you talking about, Mc?” You got off Lucifer’s lap and sat on the sofa again, still close to the demon.

“Because she would be a better council officer than me?” You said but your voice was flat and you sounded gone, bored even.

Suddenly, it clicked for Lucifer. He remembered again the face that Mammon had made when he told him how you had lost your trust in them and the sincerity and complete security he had seen in that gaze, because it wasn’t something that his younger brother decided to believe, no, it was something that he could feel, after all, he was painfully honest for a demon. Lucifer had tried to dismiss it, to cling onto that tiny possibility that you still had faith in them.

He wanted to cry again, because his heart threatened to burst out of his chest, probably angry for being forced to belong to such a prideful demon. He wanted to cry because he knew you didn’t trust them, but more than that, you didn’t believe in their love.

“It’s fair, Mc. If you don’t want to believe me when I say that I love you, that I would die for you at any time. It’s understandable and I’ll accept it for now but don’t compare yourself anymore, love. Please, let me protect you.” Lucifer desperately wanted to erase those words and stupid beliefs from your mind, he wanted to remove the blindfold they had accidentally put on your eyes, to let you see just how irreplaceable you are.

You shook your head, your jaw tensing at the inhuman effort you were doing to keep looking into Lucifer’s eyes. Not because it was painful, but because you were afraid of those blurry black spots you could see out of the corner of your eye.

You could see the five Little D.s surrounding you and Lucifer, you knew they were looking at you with eyes as wide as their smiles. You focused on Lucifer’s eyes, beautiful and calm, full of grieve and hope. The same hope you were clinging on. “If you want me to trust you, it’s only fair that I ask you the same.”

Lucifer knew he was egotistical, he himself hid things from you so that you could continue living without a care in the world, so you could be safe. That’s what he’s supposed to do, not the other way around. You should tell him who was responsible for hurting you so he could show them what he’s capable of, what true fear feels like. “Besides, I wouldn’t tell any of you, unless I want a bloodbath in the Devildom.” The Little D.s’ laughter filled the room, you could still feel their eyes on you.

“Why would you want to protect them?” The Avatar of Pride asked, he couldn’t fathom how anyone would show that level of mercy, but if there was someone capable of, it would be you (he had no doubts). You, on the other hand, were building a slow but solid thirst for blood. You were not defeated, you had let yourself hit hard ground but it wasn’t over. They are your demons, yours to haunt, yours to kill. “I’ll stay here for a while. Are you going to be okay without me?”

“No, I won’t.” He simply said, pondering his options, perhaps he should intervene with a direct approach. Maybe he could lock you up until he finds out who hurt you, securing you until he can keep an eye on you at all times. Never let you go more than 5 inches away from him. Always close to his reach. He laughed, passing a hand over his tired face. “Father really knew something when he kicked me out of his place.” He thought. “I’ll be waiting for you, love.” He said instead.

Even if he wasn’t by your side, he would keep an eye on you, taking care of you from the distance until he could earn your trust back. This storm would pass too, he was sure.

“I promise it won’t take long.” You hugged Lucifer again, facing The Little D. of Pride’s face. Smiling at him, a cold and unwavering smirk. “You just wait and get ready, okay? No takesies backsies!” You sang overly sweet, The Little D. of Pride laughed and spoke silently too. “No takesies backsies!”

The face of Lucifer was priceless, a shame that you couldn’t see it. He was completely taken aback, confused to the core by your strange change of mood. He felt like he was on a roller coaster or maybe in an intricate story that he was unable to follow, much like those ramblings Leviathan does. He opted to remain silent, firstly because he didn’t know what would be an appropriate response to “No taksies backsies!” but, most importantly, because he was trying to hide the sinister hunch that, as impossible as it seemed, you were not talking to him.

Part 17???

Taglist: @yuumaofc @kodasstar @sadlily1 @asmolover1234 @gallantys @prefesro @urminebutidontwantyou @fiveofspades @owl778 @unknownbish101 @pinkvelvetcake1 @bontensbabygirl @exrellian @kaiserkisser @cutestpatoootie @makulitsiava

[ohmotherwhereartthou-if]

Sorta bringing this back from the past, but I just saw the MC scandalous painting ask and was laughing for like 20 mins, I really do hope it makes it in to the story😂😂

Buuut, I wanna ask, how would the RO react to their family members looking at the painting after they (accidentally) left it out

(For the ROs who live alone, maybe their and MC kid?)

Haha, I remember that one. Still one of my favorites!

I am also going to write this under the impression it's at the dating stage of the relationship so that it makes more sense.

Cassandra: Does her absolute best to hide the portrait from her dad, only issue is that her dad, being the military man he is, occasionally does routine inspections around the house to make sure everything is in order and nothing needs to be taken care of before it becomes a problem. This has her moving the portrait periodically throughout the house to avoid him coming across it during his inspections. She considered putting it in a lock box but he would probably ask her whats inside and she is a TERRIBLE liar.

So, when the day unfortunately comes and General Guerrero finds a wrapped up portrait of MC's half naked ass in a broom closet; he is so unamused it's not even remotely funny. Well, for Cass at least.

Because while this might come to your surprise Alejandro actually does have a sense of humor. And make no mistake, he finds MC's audacity and utter stupidity of sending this to HIS house, to HIS daughter sort of funny. He comforts Cass by casually asking why does she even find MC attractive when they look so scrawny in the portrait she hid in a closet. Girly is is embarrassed she can't even form a coherent sentence, she just gets super red and covers her face. He can't help but laugh, he finds her embarrassment, punishment enough for her keeping this thing in her house without telling him.

Can't say he or MC will be laughing next time they meet though.

Valeria: Well, we already know Mrs. Torres saw it.

Valeria is so embarrassed, for MC. It's not like she asked you to do something so stupid knowing full well that she is the youngest of 6 with 5 older brothers and that she still lives with them and her parents. Mrs. Torres is just like Valeria in the sense she can't keep shit to herself, although Valeria manages to keep her shut for all of 4 days which is a pretty decent record. Good thing Val already managed to hide it someplace secret only to her by the time her brothers found out about it. They pester her day and night to see it so they can roast MC next time they see them. (as if they weren't already, idk if I said this already but if you romance Val; her big brothers become YOUR big brothers). Her parents don't really care, her dad didn't appreciate it but trusts his sons will harass MC enough about it, just expects MC to not do it again.

Tomás: He legit has nobody that he would really give a fuck about in his family if they saw the portrait. He isn't embarrassed, he's proud. He would be SO happy if his mom saw it, would rub in how scandalous and just how much of a scoundrel he is with MC. Would get a real kick out of how much she would 'clutch her pearls' at him, literally and figuratively. Would get mad if his brothers saw it because he'd get jealous, probably would punch them or something.

Now if you guys had a kid and they saw it in the future, he would get bashful but tell them not to go poking around his things. No, they cannot ask why he had it hidden in a box under his side of the his bed.

-

Ludovica: Also has no family or anybody to discover it. In the future if she had kids and they found it, she would be mortified. Begs them to forgive her for not hiding it well enough and to forget they saw it. She is unamused when she overhears her staff gossiping about the portrait and how one maid long ago had mentioned it existing and how literally nobody had believed her. Chokes on her spit when her kids ask MC point blank why they were barely wearing any clothes in the picture and if they were cold.

Aurelio: ALSO has no family to uncover it, (omg look at all of these pathetic little orphans, having parents must be a rarity in this world ig).

So, when his kids one day are being a little too nosy in his private study and see his half naked portrait of a young MC hanging right beside his desk labeled "Motivation - 1890" they obviously do the logical thing of screaming for their dad to come to his study. When he does wondering if they got hurt or something they ask him right away why tf he has such a picture displayed there and why is it labeled.

He had responds with something like, "Well, can you blame me for wanting to be productive? Knowing that is but a humble glimpse at what will be my reward when I finish my work, does wonders for my morale. And be grateful your mom/dad looked so great back then or you might not even be here." (He is saying that to tease them, MC still looks great in their older age and he would love them even if they weren't attractive.)

Also adds, "Oh, and it's labeled because that's that years edition of 'motivation'. I made sure I got one every start of the year to keep me honest. New year, new happy little wine drinker me! What? Did you want to see the rest? Or maybe the ones I gave mom/dad? Fair warning, I was wearing even LESS than they are in this picture."

His children then proceed to run out of his study screaming and gagging, he laughs knowing that this will keep them out of his study from now on.

Elio: Okay sort of funny because I actually said in one specific post somewhere Elio actually personally knows Aurelio and I actually think the only person close enough to discover it would be Aurelio. Elio would surprising be shocked if Aurelio found it because he made sure it was well hidden in the attic to avoid MC ever finding out he did actually have it.

He drinks tea and admires it from time to time when MC is away for too long. If Aurelio ever found it Elio would actually be frantic shooing him out of the house and swearing that he will never let him anywhere near MC ever again. Because he knows Aurelio is a charmer and he deep down would feel a little insecure if after he has fallen in love, MC got close to Aurelio and fears he would take them away from him. Even though Aurelio would never do that to him, he can't shake the insecurity and does everything he can to hide it.

Aurelio would want to tease Elio about it but knows it would be a very touchy subject so he shuts up, instead he tease MC next time they have a moment without Elio there. Which might be in a few months when Elio calms a bit and lets his guard down thinking Aurelio might have forgotten or dropped it completely.

---

Thanks for letting me revisit and continue this funny scenario! 💙

[paprotkarotka]

A letter to a dead friend.

Dear friend,

In the face of recent events, I decided to visit home, meaning the exact place I was born. Curiosity got the best of me, even though I know such reminiscences very rarely end well for me, as I tend to fall into a spiral of overthinking.

But can you blame me, at my ripe age, for nostalgia? As a human, I am doomed to commit the same mistakes without learning until it bites me in the ass.

I was pleasantly surprised to discover a meadow with an orchard where my house once stood. (Or at least where I think it stood.) I expected more urban development in the place, not a bunch of apple trees and a sea of grass, but I am not complaining. It's nice to rest my ancient bones in the shadow of an apple tree once in a while.

It is a strangely unbothered patch of land, which didn’t help with the nostalgia. It felt familiar. It lingered on the verge of my memories, almost tangible, but not quite. So close, yet too far away to reach. I thought I would feel better and that my visit would soothe my pain and longing for comfort and home. But it left me even more broken and regretful.

With all that lingering familiarity, it felt strangely cold and foreign. Surreal even. At first, I couldn’t exactly put my finger on what bothered me so much. And then it hit me. The feeling of belonging was gone. I have simply forgotten all of it—the people that used to live here, their daily problems and squabbles, and myself in the middle of that. I forgot what I was doing here, hence the strange feeling of a loss. I just couldn’t remember myself in this place. As if I've never been here.

I'm old. I'm very, very old. And I keep forgetting more and more details from my past. Every memory I lose devastates me to the core. I don't remember my mother's, Eleanor's, or Peggy's faces. It's all jumbled and smudged in my memory. It's like I'm in a fog, which grows thicker as I stumble through it. I don't even remember my mother's voice or her sweet lullaby that I used to hum all the time. To keep myself from forgetting. But it happened eventually.

But that doesn't scare me the most; what scares me the most is that I don't recognise the world I once called home. It's all familiar, but I don't have the feeling of belonging. I don't feel alienated, just... alien. Immortality is the best thing that could have happened to me, but human memory is limited. I'm doomed to live forever... And forget. And what are we if not memories? This is what makes me "me". I'm not even sure my real name is Robert at this point. I just remember using it, but since when? Who knows. Am I even the same person now? Or maybe I forgot completely who I was and turned into a stranger. Will I remember this in a thousand years? Five thousand? Those questions scare me. I am scared to lose myself.

I am afraid, dear friend, that I will forget you too, one day. I will fight tooth and nail not to, but as experience has taught me, it will happen eventually. It saddens me deeply, and I know thinking about it is senseless now, but I cannot help it, as from everything I’ve experienced and everyone I’ve met, you’re the one I wish to remember most, for as long as I can.

Dear friend, this letter might never reach you, but if it does, keep in mind that I will be waiting for you for as long as it takes and for as long as I remember. I will be there, anticipating our meetings, until I grow so old that you will have to remind me of what I am waiting for. Promise me that.

Your friend,

Robert

Big shoutout to my friend who not only checked the letter for me, but also did a recording if it, check it out please: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QUKTmfK_Sz0

[we-were-beautiful]

The Fox and The Hounds pt. 4

A/N: As I live and breath I have finally finished up chapter 4. Sorry that it took so long to get it done. I love these two awkward dog parents. Up next will be my newest Poly!Feysand fic and then the next portion of love and shadows. There is some mention of violence in this one. I will also accept people who want to beta read this for me to help me find silly mistakes that I know I miss. Also all of the photos in the moodboard came from pintertest 

Summary: Its autumn court tradition to give your mate a fox kit before your ceremony. after years of knowing the Vanserra’s a mating bond snaps between the Autumn Heir and a well known smoke hound breeder

Warning: Mentions of violence and Beron being the father of the year  

 WC: 2.6k 

We had winnowed to a cabin deep in the forest of Autumn. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but the beautiful home in front of us was not it. When I had been told of this trip Eris had mentioned that it was his personal hunting cabin not elaborating further than that. Maybe I had been expecting the single room open floor concept cabins that my brothers had for hunting, but this fairy tale cottage nestled in the trees is anything but. The two story cabin is made of stone and dark wood and a porch wraps the whole way around the home. The barking of dogs draws my attention away from the home. All around the small clearing our hounds run freely with one another. I let out a small sigh of relief. We had shared concerns that the hounds wouldn’t get along with each other; however, it seems like they were unfounded. It is endearing to watch them run and play with one another; to watch Ramiel be reunited with one of her pups. Paprika wiggles in my arms to put her down. I gently put her on the forest floor still keeping a tight hold on her leash. I didn’t quite trust that she wouldn't just sprint off into the woods 

“This is my private home.” Eris’ voice pulls my attention back to him. “ I spend my free time here when my presence is not required at the forest house.” 

“It is beautiful, Eris.” and it's the truth, this is the kinda place that mothers tell their babes about when reading bedtime stories. A cottage like this is where a princess would live before being swept away by her prince charming. Eris holds out his arm for me to take. I gently thread my arm through his as he leads me up the walkway. 

“So will this be our main residence after the wedding?” After our mating ceremony. It seemed like a safe question to ask, in all honesty I would rather be here than trapped in the massive forest house and bound to court decorum. The jewels and finery were lovely, but I would much rather be comfortable in working clothes surrounded by my hounds

“Yes, I try to keep out of the forest house as much as possible. I’m there when Father demands it but I want to keep my private life private.” His voice did not waiver. It was no secret that Beron was cruel; he kept a tight hold on the court and an even tighter one on his family. I had unfortunately witnessed this on several occasions when my family had  been summoned to the forest house. One memory had burned into my mind and it was hard to forget it. The high lord had pitted his second born against the youngest, and I think the only thing that stopped them from killing each other had been their mother desperately begging her husband to make them stop. We had only been children at the time. I remember watching in horror, clinging to my own mothers skirts. Eris had stood beside his fathers throne, the vision of the perfect heir. He had been the one to rip the second oldest off of the youngest, but only on his fathers command. 

“I would never subject you to more of that place than absolutely necessary.” His voice pulls me out of my memories. The tension had become so thick between the two of us the silence deafening and uncomfortable. 

“Are there kennels for the hounds?” I asked desperate to break this uncomfortable feeling. 

“I am looking into having some constructed, but honestly I tend to just keep them in the house.” He seemed almost sheepish with his answer, red tinting his cheeks  “But with 20 it may not be the most manageable.” 

“I only ask because I imagine that feeding time is going to be tricky. Not to mention night time routines” I respond unconsciously, taking a step closer to the fiery haired male. “ I honestly would rather keep them in the house, but…” I trailed off. Most families kept their hounds in kennels overnight. They let the beautiful creatures roam the house during the day but come nightfall they put them into kennels. I honestly felt safer having one or two of my hounds in the house with me at night but it wasn't normal.

“It is whatever you wish my mate. If you want kennels built I will have some built; if you are fine with the dogs having free range of the house that is what we will do. This is to be your home and I would have you comfortable. If there is something that needs to be changed, then I will seek to remedy whatever it is.” He seems so much softer now that it is just the two of us. I have seen him be so cruel in our lives, but here and now when it's just the two of us he's a different person. 

“I would rather keep them in the house.” I pause “I feel safer when they are close, and if you get called away I would rather them be here with me.” to keep me safe they were the unspoken words. My hounds could be vicious when threatened, but Eris’ were on a whole different level. I had been grateful when he introduced me to his hounds that they had taken to me. It had been tense at first but by the time I was to leave the forest house I always had one or two of them trailing after me. The thought of having all of them when inevitably I am alone here put my mind at ease. 

“Then in the house they will stay.” I swear that I could see just a hint of a smile forming on his lips as we entered the home. The inside was surprisingly homey, it was a stark contrast to the cold formality of the Forest house. The main living room had two large comfortable looking sofas facing each other; a large overstuffed armchair in a worn brown leather sat facing the  massive stone fireplace. Massive windows lined one wall giving a breathtaking view of the forest behind it, another wall hosted massive bookshelves filled with books.  The coffee table between the two couches was a rustic affair carved of an old massive oak. Dog beds were scattered around the room along with various toys. For this being Eris’ private retreat it looks very well lived in. The whole space was very masculine, but I had a feeling that I could bring my own touch to the place and it would be perfect. I take a seat on one of the couches gathering paprika in lap unclipping her leash as she settles in for cuddles. 

“After the ceremony I figured that you could go through and make any changes to the place that you wish. Or we could travel to town tomorrow?” as he takes a seat on the sofa across from me. 

“I wouldn’t mind going to town. It is very homey here, but we might need to make some adjustments to make it our place.” compromise is what makes a marriage work. We have to work together and make decisions as a team. 

It settled into an awkward silence between the two of us. Neither one of us really knew what to say. It really hit home that this was our first time alone with no chaperones. No  strict parents, no nosy brothers, no courtiers in our business. I feel like I couldn’t move under his gaze; I knew Eris’ reputation. He had been nothing but polite and respectful while we were in public and surrounded by people. That could all change now that we are in private.  A loud crack of thunder broke the silence and I jumped in my seat. 

“We should probably bring in the hounds.” I break the silence and an uneasy laugh escapes me as I turn my eyes to the windows storm clouds rolling in. 

Eris stands up from his chair moving to the double doors, he opens both doors and lets out a long whistle. Within seconds all of the hounds come running into the house; suddenly the house becomes alive with noise with the jingle of tags and the clicks of nails on the hardwood and barking. It is a laughable situation as all 18 trip over one another as they run into the living room.  I feel the cushion next to me dip as one of the 18 dogs hops up next to me; I grimace as I feel a wet tongue lick at my face, I run a hand down the hounds back relishing in the warmth radiating off of its silky fur. 

“The pride of the Autumn court, vicious killers, the lot of you,  tracking down your enemies  with lethal accuracy and ripping them to shreds. And yet you act like puppies.” I laugh as the dog attempts to sit in my lap on top of poor Paprika. The fox kit scurries out of my lap with an indignant yip as the fully grown smoke hound attempts to fit on my lap.  

“Ichabod! Down.” Eris snaps at the dog who had crawled into my lap. Ichabod on the other hand showed absolutely no signs of moving. I laugh and wrap my arms around the hound.

“He’s fine Eris.” I rest my chin on Ichabod, giving him scratches “He’s just a big baby” 

“Yes, a big baby whom I have seen rip a male  to shreds.” Eris sigs before taking a seat on the opposing couch again shooing away one of the hounds that decided he needed the whole couch. Paprika perks up at the sight of Eris sitting down darting over to take up a seat in his lap since hers was so rudely stolen. He laughs long fingers gently scratching at her soft ears. 

“I’m just glad that your dogs get along with mine and they seem to like me. I would hate to imagine what would have happened if we couldn’t integrate them.” to say that the smoke hounds were territorial was putting it mildly. It wasn’t uncommon for smoke hounds to attack unfamiliar hounds, I had heard horror stories around the court of what could happen when trying to integrate two kennels. It was why Eris and I had taken major precautions after the bond had snapped. We would introduce one or two dogs at a time supervised and on leads at all times. We had finally got to the point last week where we  let all of them out together at the forest house.  

“I would rather not think about that. While I have no doubt in your skills as a breeder, that you could breed a wonderful replacement. I would hate to lose any of our hounds. Yours for their sheer pedigree alone and mine…” he pauses for a second “I raised all of mine, trained them. They work so well together. I can’t fathom what I would do If I lost one” 

Eris loved his hounds just like I love mine. We had bonded over it years ago but to hear him say it was enlightening. It was deeper than I knew before and it warmed me to my core the amount of love this male has for his hounds. I smile at the scene in front of me as Eris is surrounded by three hounds begging for attention as Paprika gets in his face demanding that he pay attention to her. I let out a laugh which caused him to look up at me. Cinnamon eyes met mine. I feel a slight tug on the bond from his end, my eyes widen as a smile grows on his face. The two of us had not really explored the bond since it snapped, there were a few times that I could feel some intense emotion from his end while we were separated and a few times where he had used it to check in on me when we were forced to attend public events. But a solid pull like this neither of us had been brave enough to try. 

“I guess I should give you a tour of the house, not just sit around playing with the hounds.” Eris moved to stand up gently placing Paprika on the floor. 

“A tour would be nice” I nudged Ichabod off my lap. He jumps down to the floor quickly running off to play with another one of the hounds. Eris had moved to stand in front of me offering his hand. I take it and stand. I had never noticed before how warm his hands are; it was almost as if fire  he wielded was coursing through his veins. He moved my hand to rest in the crook of his arm as he led me through the house.

I found myself enjoying this time with him, watching him show off his home…or rather our home. For the most part the cottage was not decorated, a clear sign that a single male had resided here.  One room stuck out to me on the tour; Eris kept an office here. Papers were scattered all over the large oak desk that dominated the room. 

“I apologize for the mess in here.” He seemed almost sheepish. “ I wanted to make sure that I had all of my work done before I came to get you so that I could focus on getting to know you and not  work.”  

It warmed me to hear that he had wanted to make sure that he was able to spend this weekend getting to know me rather than finishing up work. I knew first hand what it was like, my father depending on the workload from the forest house would sometimes end up sequestered in his office for days on end.

“Thank you, I know this whole engagement has been rather hectic. So for you to make the time to get to know me means a lot.” I gently squeezed his arm. 

 “We need all the time we can get because in two weeks we will be bound together.” he solemnly responds “I’d rather know you and at the bare minimum be your friend. We can learn to love each other later.”

He leads me away from the office showing the many guest rooms. They are spartanly decorated with just a bed and nightstand. “You can change these rooms however you please. I had no true need for them and didn’t feel that it was necessary to decorate.

I couldn’t help but let out a laugh at that. It had been such a male answer, something that I had heard before when Mother and I had visited the Illyrian camps years ago. Seems like males will have similar responses to decorating no matter what court. He stops in front of two closed doors. 

“This will be your room during your stay here.” He opens the door to reveal a cozy looking room. The room is dominated by a large bed centered on the right wall, covered in a deep maroon duvet and cream colored accent pillows. The chest of drawers and night stands were carved out of a rich walnut. Dog beds were scattered across the floor. Some one had put the time in to decorating this room “My mother decorated it for you. If you don't like it we can change it.” 

“No, no. It is perfect Eris.” I am quick to cut him off “I love it” 

“Mother will be glad to hear that. My room is across the hall.” he points to the closed door. He runs a hand through his hair. “I will leave you to get settled. The servants should have dinner ready in a few hours so I will let you rest.” 

I nod and take a step into my room “Thank you Eris.” what I am thanking him for I don’t know  after I close the door I lean against it letting my head fall back. This is going to be an awkward weekend.

[crypticandmachiavellianaugustine]

In my defence, I have none

Elain Archeron x Lucien Vanserra

Summary: Elain deals with some ugly feelings in an unhealthy way. Elain centric.

Warnings: ANGST, hurt with only a tiny sprinkle of comfort, self destructive tendencies, mentions of alcohol, suicide ideation, negative self talk, toxic Elain.

Might delete this later, honestly I am not sure if I like it. I was writing a soft fic about them going on little dates but then this monstrosity appeared in my mind like a prophetic fever dream. English is not my first language so don't think too badly of me.

___

Elain Archeron was wandering around Velaris, emptiness in her heart.

She didn't know if what was plaguing her mind was a vision with some sort of significance; or if it was her imagination and the representation of the foul thoughts she had been having. Decaying overgrown gardens.

Seven months of courting. Seven months of letting warmth, like she had never experienced before, into her life. Seven months of Lucien Vanserra filling most of her days. Until her mind betrayed what they both had been nurturing between them.

She had thought of drastic ideas, the sort of things that had only occurred to her right after she had been made, when she had been uttering broken sentences up in the House of Wind.

Her name, as much as she tried to forget it, continued to form in her head as well as the hushed and soft voice of her mate as he talked about her.

And Elain's own voice, a malignant version of it that only spoke in her thoughts had whispered words of irrational jealousy in her ear. Even the seed of doubt could grow big and strong if her own hands tucked it gently in the land of her mind.

So she had avoided him, after speaking kind words of comfort for his loss. Not following him when Rhysand had sent him away to perform his duties as emissary. Making herself scarce every time he returned to Velaris, in a more effective way than before they had started courting.

Walking on the banks of the Sidra she wondered if anyone even thought that her sweet and forgettable self was capable of nurturing such dark concepts in her pretty little head. Elain had been a doll her whole life, she could disappear in the role until everyone simply believed that despair could not touch her in any way.

Was she something more than a beautiful thing? Had she ever been anything more?

As a human she had been a toy to dress up for her mother. And later in life, when she lived in the cottage dirt poor with her remaining family, had she been a doll even then? When men from the village watched her rapaciously, as if she was the defenseless little mouse she often felt like. She had felt their words sticking to her porcelain skin like mud. As if they had the right to taint her days, because she was in misery and with a father who could as well not exist, as if her circumstances made her a toy to break for fleeting amusement.

Then her life had turned upside down for the third time and she had given her heart and hopes to a man who would crush them under his boots not long after. After a king for an experiment had boiled her bones alongside her older sister's and forced them to become completely different creatures. The one offence she had been able to take revenge for.

Greysen had thrown her away. Azriel had called her a mistake. And Lucien... He was her mate but he already had his great love and it was not her.

Elain could not tell how many stab wounds her heart could take anymore, how her heart was still beating and not decaying like a bird fallen from its last flight. Would the end of things even gift a weightless flight to a small, disappearing thing?

Cold rain was falling on the city of starlight, a small kindness from the sky, a mask for her bitter tears.

Pride prevented her from walking to his apartment and look for comfort in his arms, pretending that her sorrow did not exist. That would have been easy and safe. Gentle, not jealous, not capricious, not possessive. Just like the Elain everyone saw and loved. No, the rain and the cold were small luxuries she would allow herself, to wash away her most abominable feelings in the anonymity of a city that was taking shelter from an unpleasant autumn evening.

It felt liberating and devastating, to know that no-one would come looking for her. She was the only resident of the Town House, she had avoided her mate for two weeks, her sisters were living their lives with their families. And when the morning would come, after a night of rain, she would tend to her poor garden and to her beaten heart.

Elain would be alright in the end, she would go back to her polite and cheerful ways. A few hours would be enough to swallow the bile of knowing that not even for her mate she was the most important. The one.

She felt ashamed of her jealousy against a female who had died tragically long before she was even born, but even all of her self awareness could do nothing against the sickness in her stomach at the very thought of her.

Elain felt like a child standing in front of all of her suffocating thoughts. Would anyone even understand why she felt that way, except for maybe her sisters? She was a high fae but her soul was still so terribly human. She still resonated like a mortal, all chaos and uncertainty. And there, in darkness and rain she felt as if she was still just a girl, living in a humble cottage, looking up at the sky feeling small and lost, wondering what will become of her.

Maybe if she found refuge in a tavern and drank herself empty, like Nesta had done in the past, she would understand something that she was clearly missing.

Elain needed something to stop her mind, or she would be forced to claw her heart out of her chest to make it stop hurting.

If she really wanted to be petty, she thought, she could always disappear. Run to the Continent and get lost in shimmering old cities. Would anyone look for her then?

Shame came again, taking her breath away and forcing her to lean her forehead against the cold black stone of a building. How could her pettiness make sense for such unwarranted fragility? She wished to be different, to be the actually kind person everyone always saw. Maybe if she had been different she would not walk the city in that weather, she would simply be with her mate in that rainy night exactly like the first one they had spent together, two months before.

Elain wished for a life of expressing her darkest feelings instead of allowing them to devour her from inside. She wished to not be a proper lady, to live like a wild creature in the woods, to show up at a ball where nobody knew her and be unapologetically herself.

For months she had acted like herself. Laughing wholeheartedly and talking without restraint, relinquishing in the fact that Lucien was her mate, starting to understand that he was meant to be her person, the one always at her side unconditionally. Her perfect other half.

She could easily ruin everything, make sure that between them there would be no winners. Hurt him like his confession, meant for sharing a full of agony page of his life, had hurt her. Would he even see it coming, from her? Probably not, he had been so trusting in sharing his story, handing her his heart and breaking hers in the same moment. Elain did not wish to live with a ghost from the past, she did not want to be the one he settled for and if renouncing to him would give her that kind of peace she was ready to consider it.

It was childish, she was aware, to think like that, to whim for a scenario she had made up. She had been simmering in her mind long enough to convince herself that if the other female would have still been alive, her mate, the one who belonged to her, would have chosen Jesminda and not even tried to pursue that bond so rare and sacred for his people. In another life Elain would have been unwanted even by the one who should always long for her no matter the circumstances. Maybe deciding to acknowledge him all those months before had been a mistake, maybe she was not ready yet and maybe she would never be mature enough to not feel betrayed for what did not happen.

Elain was exhausted, cold was settling into her bones and laying her to sleep like a snow covered flower.

Purchasing a bottle of wine and drinking it while wandering around seemed perfectly squalid and totally appropriate for the occasion. So she did. Wander and drink, thinking about all of the times she had bitten her tongue instead of saying what was going on in her mind, what kind of life was that?

In the morning she would go back, to the place she was calling home and to her quietude, after allowing herself the luxury of being inadequate for a little while. In the morning Elain would make something beautiful, to force life to be worth living again. If she had to perform then the world needed to perform for her as well.

At dawn she would be frivolous and soft for her audience and allow them to make anything they wanted of her. Elain the naive sister of the High Lady and the Valkyrie. The foolish gardener who existed on the periphery of everything as if she was already too old to live. The silly baker who, along with her pastries, often gave away pieces of herself for free.

And his heart, thunderous in her ears, would become a tolerable companion again. Soon she would gather enough courage to be in his presence and not viciously strike to kill. At the end she did have something in common with her sharpest sister. Until then she would retrace her steps to find where her damage came from, why was she so sweet and so vindictive.

As the rain started to hit her harder with its glacial drops Elain found shelter under a porticus, cold stone becoming the only bed she felt like she deserved at the moment. Would they send her away for being the cause of so much shame in only one night?

Anger flared up in her heart, inexorably directed at herself, at her family, at her mate and at his lost love. Chucking her bottle of wine against one of the pillars had felt good for a moment, Elain had never allowed herself to express anger in such a way. Even when some shards of glass flew back to her, scratching her skin, she continued to feel numb. That was what heartbreak did to an unwise girl, it made other kinds of pain disappear.

Sliding on the floor again, not minding the street's dust tarnishing her dress, Elain felt empty enough to fall into something similar to sleep, his heart tormenting her still. It felt as if the highs of alcohol were still clouding her mind when someone picked her up, the familiar rhythm of his heart now beating directly into her ear. Elain didn't bother to open her eyes. Maybe if she ignored him, his presence would turn out to be just a dream and she would be left alone to deal with her thoughts in any way she deemed necessary. Maybe the feeling of winnowing away and the warm lights of candles were only her imagination. Maybe the scent of cinnamon, books and apples of his apartment was just a deception from her weary mind.

And still Elain felt him lay her gently on the couch and walk away, the sound of flowing water coming from the other side of his home.

She laid there, pain and shame turning even the simple action of breathing uncomfortable. As she slowly opened her eyes, Elain found her mate observing her, the sorrow on his face clear as day.

Lucien seemed perfectly composed as he silently cried. She wanted to rage. Anger and disgust, those were the emotions she had expected to read in his expression; for her irrational jealousy and for her insensitivity. She did not want his tears nor his pity. Once again she contemplated doing the unexpected by ruining everything without an ounce of hesitation or regret. Elain did not speak as he cleaned the scratches she had caused by carelessly tossing away her wine bottle, nor did she react when he healed them all with a gentleness that was infuriating. She did not utter a single word as he carried her to the steaming bathtub on the other end of his apartment and set her down in the water after reverently taking off her the, by then, unsalvageable dress.

A few weeks prior they had chatted away and laughed in that bathtub together, as the sunlight, a rare occurrence in the Night Court, shone through the windows carrying a promise of tranquility.

Now there were no words or smiles, just silence and his hands gently washing her hair. Elain felt like crying as he poured warm water on her hair and back, the cold that had settled in her bones beginning to ease up. A sob escaped her lips as she whispered.

"Are you angry at me?" It was a question she had asked a countless amount of times during her life. And after Greysen had thrown her away, that sequence of words had become habitual on her lips.

"No," he whispered back, pressing a kiss to her forehead. She looked away, finding it almost impossible to believe.

"Please don't ever do this again, I would not be able to bear it," Lucien continued, his lips still pressed against her head.

"Your feelings had been devastating tonight, my lady. I had felt them all. Nothing that happened before I came to you matters. Nothing is more than you. You are my everything, don't ever doubt it again".

The pain in his voice was palpable, a stark contrast with his warm hand rubbing soothing circles on her back. Elain could not hold back her tears anymore, starting to sob softly and continuing until she was tucked away in the safety of his arms, wearing his clothes, surrounded by his scent. Laying on his bed and not on the cold stone she had planned to sleep on just a few hours prior. Still there was a part of her that continued to exist restless, unfamiliar with the concept of peace and wary of it. In the morning she would be herself again and he would spend the rest of their long lives proving her everyday that she was his to cherish, to unconditionally love. His heart would always belong in her hands.

[evolutionsvoid]

As I have gone on before, the coast can be just as dangerous as any murky bog or treacherous jungle, and that includes your pristine sunny beaches. I mean, it shouldn't be any surprise, seeing that the ocean is right there, and everyone accepts the fact that that is home to many a peril. But I guess when your only exposure to this specific biome is drawings on pamphlets from resorts or stories of romance set during a tropical vacation, people can get the wrong idea. Make no mistake, blood can and will spill on these sands. Being smart and observant of your surroundings is how you ensure it isn't yours. The beach is no sanctuary, it is just another ecosystem. Running to its shores can indeed protect you from aquatic predators, as we all know when someone yells "shark," but don't forget that not everything that lives in the ocean stays in it. Some things can live on both land and sea, and pursue through either of them. They can breathe water, they can breathe air. And one particular species can breathe something far more deadly...

If there is one name to worry most about when it comes to coastal regions, it should be this one: the Ushi-oni. Massive crustaceans that lurk between both worlds, spending its life in the depths and also on dry land. Identifying one will never be a problem, because when you see one emerging from the surface, your instincts will tell you to RUN. While I may not respond in this manner, I imagine many people tend to freak out when a huge black horned crab comes crawling out of the ocean. Appearance-wise, most people equate them to spiders, with a large abdomen and creepy crawly legs, but they are actually crustaceans. Though it looks like they only have six legs, they actually possess ten. The six spiked limbs are how they move, while another pair up front is modified into pincers. The last pair are reduced and in the back, used only for carrying eggs during the breeding season. While some see spider, others see a bull, and that is due to their large "horns." Ushi-oni possess impressive curved spikes upon their head, which when combined with their bulky size and black coloration, causes people to compare them to oxen. What purpose they serve, we can't really say. They can't really charge and gore people with them, as they don't move that fast. Rather, we believe that they prevent other giant beasts of the sea from chomping down on their heads. And perhaps it is used to advertise the individual's health and strength when it comes to finding a mate.

The big thing (ha) about Ushi-oni is their size. It is hard to give an average of what size they come in, as all ones encountered tend to vary quite a bit. There are some who, indeed, are as big as a full grown oxen. That size is seen a lot when one is found settled on the coast, but we know that this is not full grown. Rather, it appears these are the younger ones, who have recently matured and have come to land to try and set up a nest for the coming mating season. At other times, people have witnessed specimens as big as a hut, and these feel more like a full on adult. However, we believe that Ushi-oni do not stop growing once they reach a certain age, they just keep going. Stories tell of ones big as a house, emerging from the abyss and raining terror upon the coastal villages. Many are thankful that it appears that the older an Ushi-oni gets, the more time it spends in the deeper regions of the ocean. This is probably due to their fertility decreasing after passing their prime years, and thus don't come up as often to nest. This is good, because the rare instances where one of these ancient ones ascends to dry land usually result in a whole lot of death and destruction.

Typically, I am not one for fearmongering, or labeling species as "monsters." I will stick with that here, as I usually do, because the Ushi-oni is still an animal at the end of the day. However, I can clearly see the impacts they can have on the world around them, and there is no denying why they are feared. They are not "monsters," but they are very dangerous, so much so that I do my best to stay as far away as I can when it comes to observation. Ushi-oni are big, bulky and...powerful (Eucella, what is a word for "strong" that starts with b? I am blanking here). Their bodies are armored with thick plates of chitin, and beefy (aw dang it, that's the one) muscles power their limbs to make them deadly weapons. Their legs end in sharp points, which can totally skewer things they step on. That tends to be a favorite tactic of theirs when walking the shallows, using their limbs for a bit of spear fishing. Their front pincers may be small and mostly used to handle food for their monstrous maws, but do know they are very strong. They can tear you easily into nice little chunks, and a simple pinch can take off an arm. With such strength, and a shell that can ward off swords and arrows, you can see why they are a force to be reckoned with. But you haven't seen everything yet, because that isn't even their most deadly trait.

What makes Ushi-oni so feared and deadly is because their main weapon isn't brute strength (oh now I am busting out the strong b words) or their great mass: it is poison. Lots and lots of poison. Ushi-oni generate a toxic fluid in their bodies that they use for both offense and defense. From their maw and the vents running down their bodies can spew forth a terrible miasma. When under the sea, it mixes directly with the surrounding waters and turns a zone around it into pure death. When on land, it erupts from their bodies in plumes, releasing clouds of noxious poison. This toxin attacks the respiratory system, becoming corrosive when coming in contact with mucous membranes and other sensitive tissues. The throat and lungs tend to get hit the hardest, eventually damaging them so that the victim can no longer breath or drowns in their own boiling bodily fluids. Since it hits the respiratory system, it causes a lot of coughing and spitting up of fluids. This has led to the early belief that Ushi-oni spread disease, as people saw the coughing and wheezing of burning throats as symptoms of illness. Ushi-oni spew this poison from their maws to envelope prey in a deadly cloud. If they breathe in enough, they will die, but slowly. In most cases, the Ushi-oni will finish targets off before the nastier effects can set in, more so using the poison to slow them down. In scenarios where there is a lot of animals in the area, they will cover the whole place with poison and wait for all the morsels to eventually drop dead. Then they may feast on the corpses left behind.

It should be noted that this poison gas is also used for ridding its body of parasites, as it seems that is the main use of the side orifices. By hosing down their hide with this toxin, they can kill off critters clinging to their shell. It is used for warding off predators too, but clearly there comes a point where few beasts of the sea are willing to deal with such nasty titans.

While they possess a deadly weapon and savage strength, the Ushi-oni is not a foe to every living thing. In fact, these massive crabs appear to actually form a symbiosis with another coastal creature: the Nure-onna. Indeed, these nasty serpents seem to get along with these poison spewing crabs, and one of the reasons is because they appear to be resistant to the gas. How they developed this, we have no clue, but they certainly take advantage of this perk. Their partnership was probably born from Nure-onna diving into the noxious clouds to nab dying prey for themselves, resulting in these serpents following Ushi-oni about for a free meal. Eventually they wound up in the nests of the Ushi-oni, who set them up in coastal caves and holes bored into rock faces. Here is where egg-carrying Ushi-oni will deposit their unborn young, to keep them safe from the myriad of aquatic predators who would gobble them up. However, there are a few critters on the surface who could target these eggs too, so there is still a threat. The Ushi-oni can certainly use its gas to ward them off, but it can't watch its eggs constantly. A big creature like that needs food, and it must leave its cave from time to time to fetch a meal.

Here is where the Nure-onna come in, as they are more than happy to babysit if it means getting on the Ushi-oni's good side. They will watch over these eggs and devour any predators or parasites that may try their luck. This is especially helpful, because the crab's large size makes it a bit difficult dealing with small fast targets. The serpents cover that weakness, and take out foes who may evade the stabbing legs and grabbing claws. As a reward, they get a share of the food the Ushi-oni brings back home, a safe place to sleep and protection from predators. The Nure-onna also take advantage of their huge friend by playing as bait for their typical enemies. They leave themselves out in the open, lure a predator into a chase and then lead it right into the deadly maw of the Ushi-oni. Pretty clever! So keep that in mind if you ever find yourself hunting Nure-onna and one seems oddly cowardly. It isn't because you are a big scary hunter, it is more that it is testing you to see if you are dumb enough to give chase. Follow it, and you will find who the real big scary hunter is...

Needless to say, the Ushi-oni are a reviled species and are labeled as a major threat for these coastal regions. Those that setup shop out on wild beaches far from towns are left alone, with people more than happy to keep a very wide berth. But when one settles near coastal villages, it is a major problem. They greatly reduce local populations of food species, and can easily kill people. In fact, Ushi-oni are a species that see humans as prey, and won't hesitate to feed when they see them. Even if they weren't actively targeting sunbathers, their deadly gas clouds are capable of riding the winds and causing damage down wind. People standing in the wrong place at the wrong time can receive a nasty dose of poison. In diluted forms, it isn't deadly, but it will scorch your lungs and leave you coughing and wheezing for a very long time. Some folk never fully recover, scarred for life by its toxins. They kill a lot of animals and eat a lot too, so things are never pretty when they come to shore. Unfortunately, getting rid of them isn't all that easy.

With armored hide, most weapons do little against them. You need to target an opening in their shell, particularly their vents. However, that is where the poison comes out. So not only do you have to locate a weak point, you have to do so while dealing with a whole cloud of death surrounding it. Even if you get good masks and ways to filter out the toxins, it is still one big angry crab. Claws and spiky legs can tear through armor and skewer you like a chunk of meat. Their great bulk can straight up crush you beneath their bodies, so you won't find safety under them. Ushi-oni have been slain before, but often not without a few fatalities. And once they are dead, there isn't much to be gained. Their bits are steeped in poison, and their meat is inedible. While their shells could be cleaned and used, locals do not like that idea. They find Ushi-oni to be evil, vile creatures, and bearing their parts and visage will only bring forth curses. Part of me feels like this was born from people trying to use their chitin as armor, but didn't properly clean it and wound up getting exposed to traces of the poison. Their deteriorating health no doubt made others think they were stricken by something wicked for carrying such a horrid symbol.

On top of all that, keep in mind that the ones we typically see are the younger ones. Out there in the deep, there are massive Ushi-oni toiling in the muck and darkness. Their age makes them slow to return to shore, but when they do, it is practically a natural disaster. The emergence of an ancient Ushi-oni results in evacuations and miles of land being declared off limits. It gets to a point where they don't even send hunters or warriors to kill it, as it is a fool's errand. They merely wait for them to hatch their young and return to the depths. But Ushi-oni are hungry creatures, and they will scour the land for food. Though many people flee, not everyone can escape their toxic aura and ravenous gullet.

This has led to Ushi-oni being deemed a "dragon-level threat," essentially a species that is powerful and dangerous enough that it is akin to a great dragon burning down entire villages. While it certainly does a good job showing how deadly these creatures can be, you probably won't be surprised to hear that this irks me. "Dragon" is already a word that has practically lost all meaning to me, and now we are using them to measure threat levels? What kind of dragon we talking here? When you say "dragon-level threat" do you mean like a Sulfrik or Codrille, or is it more like a "Venom Dragon?" Mossy Sleepers have had people attempt to label them "Moss Dragons," so are they on the scale? Is an Ushi-oni as dangerous as a sleeping pile of moss and branches? Could be, because they are a "dragon-level threat!" It's nonsense, I tell you! Pure nonsense! Why don't we start calling Ushi-oni "Crab Dragons?!" It breathes deadly stuff, is dangerous and is big! So surely it be a dragon! You know what, yeah, why not!? How about I cash in on this stupid naming scheme and pioneer the name of "Crab Dragon!?" Get my name all over the papers and books! It's brilliant! What else can I name a dragon?! Oh, "Amber Eaters" are now "Amber Dragons!" And I get paid every time someone says it! I can do that! I have that power! That is my breath weapon! OH, THAT'S IT! I'M A DRAGON! A CHLORA DRAGON! THAT MEANS I AM A DRAGON-LEVEL THREAT! OH THE POWER! THE POWER! RAAAAAAAWR! HERE COMES THE CHLORA DRAGON!

Chlora Myron

Dryad Natural Historian (and DRAGON)

Okay, Chlora, looks like we need to have a sit down and little chat. Just want to check in to make sure everything is alright and that all this studying and working isn't causing you too much stress. When you have the time, please swing by my place because I would really like to know: what this is!?

Eucella Raviida

Editor & Therapist (apparently)

-----------------------------------

"Ushi-oni"

Was torn on what to make this beast: spider or crustacean. I know either option would have been fine, but crustacean won out in the end.

[actiasteeth]

ASKBOX MEME 054 / ARCANE S01E07-09

All prompts taken from season one of Arcane (2021). Adjust as needed.

07. THE BOY SAVIOR

"I knew it was a mistake trusting you."

"I told you the truth."

"Get your hands off me!"

"You look good for a dead girl."

"What do you know about this?"

"What the hell is this all about?"

"What were you doing with _____?"

"That was a long time ago. People change."

"Are you working for _____?"

"Fuck. You."

"I thought you were dead."

"I didn't know if I could trust you."

"Gee, I wonder who I learned that from."

"You still punch like a little boy."

"Nature has made us intolerant to change, but fortunately, we have the capacity to change our nature."

"I know the look of a doomed man."

"I must warn you—if you take this path, they will despise you."

"Love and legacy are the sacrifices we make for progress."

"How'd you find me?"

"Is that what's really bothering you?"

"I've had enough headaches."

"She'll come to you when she's ready."

"I should have been there. For you. For everyone."

"That's a good way to drive yourself crazy."

"If I just went with you that day, maybe none of this would have happened."

"You're wrong. She's still in there. I can reach her."

"Do you have any idea how this looks?"

"Have you forgotten where we came from?"

"Let me help you with that."

"Don't move, silly. I might hurt you."

"I wanted to protect you."

"I am your family. Everyone else betrays us."

"I need you. Now more than ever."

"You got a plan?"

"The peace is already broken, _____."

"Ridiculous. You cannot be considering this."

"There is always a choice."

"I'm worried I have to do something I never thought I would."

"I can't leave her again."

"You can't change her."

"Don't get yourself killed."

"I told you to leave this alone."

"Oh, look who it is—the boy savior."

08. OIL AND WATER

"Mark me, _____, if you want to last in this world, you must learn to be both the fox and the wolf."

"I will give you the world, _____, if you prove you can take it."

"Kill her now and only one must die. Let her live and you may need to kill thousands."

"A wolf has no mercy."

"It was all for nothing."

"You understand you've broken several laws?"

"Sometimes death is a mercy."

"Are you prepared to lose her?"

"Please understand, this is for your own sanity."

"Gotta hand it to you, _____. Every time I think you can't get dumber, you dig a new low."

"Ego is one thing; brain's another."

"Don't try to ingratiate yourself with me."

"That's a mistake I can't take back."

"Weapons can't be unmade, and they are always used."

"What happened to her—it's not your fault."

"I understand this must be painful. I'm afraid it will only get worse."

"I have to get home. It isn't safe for me here."

"We need to act. Before anyone else gets killed."

"When do we say enough is enough?"

"This is how things are, how they've always been. I was so stupid to think it could change."

"Oil and water. Wasn't meant to be."

"Do yourself a favor, _____. Go back to that big, shiny house of yours and just... forget me, okay?"

"You wanna make _____ pay for what he's done?"

"I could have you arrested."

"You said you were tired of doing nothing. That's the only sensible thing that came out of anyone's mouth tonight."

"We got a deal, pretty boy?"

09. THE MONSTER YOU CREATED

"You've always been a part of this. You just never had to look it in the eye."

"Get ahold of yourself. I taught you better."

"I've only accelerated a process you started."

"I would set the world ablaze to protect our family."

"You weakened me."

"I couldn't endure the look in your eyes whenever I made the decisions—the necessary decisions—to keep us safe."

"We lost ourselves—lost our dream."

"In the pursuit of great, we failed to do good."

"Today's the day you die, _____."

"You really think you're in a position to demand all this?"

"You want peace—this is the price."

"We can't make a deal with a snake and cut off its head. We both have our shitty parts to play."

"You'd be surprised what you can pull off when your life depends on it."

"It's not enough to give people what they need to survive. You have to give them what they need to live."

"A thousand times I've imagined this moment. Never like this."

"And what do I lose but problems?"

"I wish I could say it gets easier, _____. But I'd be lying."

"They're right not to trust us."

"You're walking a fine line, _____."

"With respect, I don't give a shit what any of you think of me anymore."

"Nothing ever stays dead."

"The only thing that kept me going was the thought of getting back to you."

"Are we still sisters?"

"I always knew you'd come back."

"You wouldn't lie to me. Not again."

"I'm on your side. I promise."

"They can all burn. Everyone betrays us, _____."

"_____, she's too far gone."

"I never would have given you to them. Not for anything."

"Don't cry. You're perfect."

"I thought maybe you could love me like you used to. Even though I'm different. But you changed, too."

[renegade-skywalker]

In Her, I Had Eternity

Summary:

Louis’ blood revives me just as Christ was revived in that tomb centuries ago, awoken in the dark. But unlike Christ, I am not alone, and beside me are my Father and my Holy Ghost, one for the act to-be and one for the act ongoing. Louis’ blood is like water, satiating in its utter purity, but Claudia’s blood tastes like milk and honey, syrupy and sanguine and just like the very kind of wine I like. We will be happy here, in the world we’ve yet created, though it already exists in my mind - bright like the spun sugar of her eyes and the dark lace of her hair, glittering in sunlight.

Rating: M Word Count: 5,160

The first time I tasted wine, it was by my mother’s bedside, mistaking it for water.

She’d been in bed for days, sipping here and there and calling it her medicine as if it were a pet name, uttering the word - médecine - more intimately than she’d ever uttered my own name - Madeleine. 

Perhaps this was only my name because she had misspoke upon my birth.

But now she was drinking, days after a pregnancy that didn’t take. 

I did not flinch when she asked me to change her blood-soaked sheets. And I did not flinch when I tasted the wine, either. But I flinch when I reach for her only for my mother to shove me away, forever the daughter she did not want and so desperately wishes to replace.

It was only a moment past but I yearn for another taste of the wine - the feel of it almost thick, like syrup, the taste of it not as sweet as jam though the layers of flavor coating my tongue seem familiar, yet in a way that nothing I tasted after would ever satisfy. 

But it would be years before I got another proper taste. And even when I did, it wasn’t enough.

It was never enough. 

---

In that, I understood my mother and her constant craving.

I left my mother’s bedside and abandoned her cup, just as she’d abandoned me in pursuit of another daughter, perhaps one she’d look more kindly on.

Perhaps one day she would get her wish. And perhaps one day I would no longer be alone.

I never wondered how babies were made. I always knew. With screaming and blood. Sometimes death. 

The little death in the making of one. And blood in the birthing. But screaming, always screaming. My father screamed louder in the making, my mother during the birthing. It was no mystery as to why.

For a time, I was not sure if babies were meant to be anything but, having never seen one live out the night. 

A strange thing, to see a birthed baby already cold, still as stone. By the time I was six I’d buried two of them, forgetting their faces by the time the coffins were laid, the ground covering their miniature graves as if the dirt had never been disturbed. The earth swallowed them whole as if forgetting the entire thing - their miniature existences made even more miniscule. 

But I forgot none of it. 

A miniature house of memory and curiosity in and of myself, never knowing what to do with either. And my mother wouldn’t hear any of it. Médecine, only. Never once Madeleine.

Yet, I do not remember feeling quite like a person until she was born. 

She being my little sister. Ma petite sœur, mon petit moi. The one who survived.

Unlike the others, she looked the most like me from the beginning. Pale skin, a shock of red curls. I liked that quite a lot, especially so young. It endeared me to her to know I was not alone. In life as well as looks.

My little sister - the youngest, the only one left.

Little because that is all she is and ever will be. In life as well as in my memory. 

The only one left not so much anymore. 

There is me, always. Only me.

---

I did not feel love, either, until she first uttered my name - Madeleine - as if it were meant for her to speak into existence more than it was for me to bear. 

That’s how life felt with her, though. Borrowed. My name was not my own until she spoke it. And I was only ever who she said I was. For as long as she was around, anyway.

Unlike most things, she made me smile. Other children called her simple , stupid, quel imbécile . But it was the uncomplicated way she said things, how she looked at the world, that truly drew me to her, that made me yearn for the rest of existence to follow in her stead. 

The others didn’t see it that way.

There’s something wrong with their blood , I’d heard the neighbor say once. The first time, I eavesdropped their accidental gossip the morning of that second paltry funeral, my unborn sister’s nameless corpse not yet buried in the ground. 

I heard them say the same thing again (the blood, bad blood, always blood ) when they looked at her - ma petite sœur, mon petit moi.

But she had already reached the ripe old age of three, by then, far older than the other babies I could hardly call siblings, their bodies now seeds sown in the ground destined to grow into nothing. 

Our neighbors eyed my sister just as they eyed me, their gazes flashing to my red hair and then my eyes before looking away, as if the exchange had never happened. As if I hadn’t seen, couldn’t see.

But I’d seen everything.

And I remembered.

If there was something wrong with our blood, that curse already coursed my veins as well as my sister’s. But she didn’t know that, and she’d never have to.

Because she was not the first sister I’d had, only the first one to survive. Though not for long.

She may have been the first one to grow old enough to ever love me, but she’d not grown old enough to realize she’d never had a choice. 

She loved me the way any child loves, out of necessity, given in exchange for the care my mother refused her while instead nursing the bottle instead of a baby. My sister loved me not in spite of what I was, but because she simply did not know any better.

For me that was enough. 

At least for a while.

---

I always preferred red wine. Perhaps it was always because of that first stolen sip.

But my tasting was not made official until I drank at the altar of a dark church on a gloomy Sunday at the behest of our priest, finally old enough for communion. I approached the dias, beaming with pride, not for the opportunity to share in the sacrament but to drink Christ’s blood and to tell my sister of it later - how it tasted, how it made my limbs tingle, my face warm.

It also felt oddly sacrilege despite being sanctioned by the church, by Christ himself. To sip from his bosom like the anti-mother, bearing blood instead of milk to feed his flock of children. But I was curious, as all children are though perhaps more than most.

But this answer was offered unlike my many stolen answers, the priest’s hand pious and white beneath his somber face as he held the silver chalice before my bright eyes, the wine glinting red with the lifeblood of a dead god made eternal. It was presented like a gift. One I was not sure I deserved but took anyway and with relish. It was freeing to pluck that goblet from the old man’s hands, testing the weight of the ardent cup as it sat cooly in my small embrace before drinking deeply.

I expected it to taste different, somehow. I had stolen sips of wine from mother’s neglected glass on her bedside, always unnoticed, a thief forever uncaught, but I had never tasted the blood of the son of God.

Though watered down, I wondered how Christ felt to wander the earth with wine-filled veins, the contents of this cup his very lifeblood. Did he feel euphoric, on the edge of bliss despite never crossing its threshold? I felt that same euphoric rush after every stolen sip of my past, the pleasure warming me for an instant but no longer than that. Was it the same for him? Was Christ immune to it all? Above it? Just as he hung above me now, his pained visage a constant reminder at the head of the chapel? He was a man once, but now only an effigy of a dying man with glass eyes dripping wax tears. There is a parallel in that thought somewhere, a metaphor. 

Perhaps. Perhaps not.

Firsts can only happen once. And I don’t recall feeling any different following my first communion. 

Mortal as always, languid and bored.

What only mattered then was that it was sanctioned, that I was allowed. And could brag about it afterward.

I was not allowed many things, even later. As a girl but especially as a woman.

And not much changed after that. Communion with Christ meant that my life proceeded much as it had been. He died for me only the once. But I would die twice, lo and behold. I did not think it would happen again.

---

You’re so smart , she’d tell me.

And I’d smile.

You’re so kind to me , she’d say. 

And I’d blush.

What I did not say in return was how my mind traced the veins beneath the pale of her skin, wondering when that blood might stop, imagining when it would inevitably run cold and she, too, would be buried beneath the earth and taken away from me forever. 

It was a practical thought. A curious one but a self-preserving one just the same. If I imagined the possibility, then should it happen I will not be surprised. It was only a matter of time.

I still blame myself for the way she died - the how of it, the truth of it.

Had I not imagined it so many times in my mind, as if running its course would prevent her fate from following the others, it had instead done only the opposite: made it true, made it real.

When we put her to rest, I wish I’d instead studied the way the sun shone in her hair, how it would veil her rosy head with a gilded halo as if she were a saint come to sacrifice herself for the rest of us sinners.

In her absence, I realize I never truly did deserve her.

I never had. 

I wonder if I will go to Hell for this and realize that I do not care.

And I am alone again. 

---

I think of her still when I draft dresses for young girls, whenever I spot a pattern for someone her size. I still remember her measurements, my thumbs the grave of a thousand pinpricks spent mending her clothes that had once been mine. 

Now they are no one’s. And the clothes I make are made for strangers.

It is better this way.

Until I think I see her out of the corner of my eye. A flash, a shadow, the edge of a memory made real for an instant before gone again. 

My shop is empty without him here but I prefer it like this, this lonely world my own. Though I wonder if ghosts are real and he is haunting me now, his sins leaching into me just as his seed had.

But I bled again this morning, further proof that his seeds did not take root in the garden of my womb even if he has been gone for months and months. I run my hand across my abdomen as I look out the shop window, squinting against the glass and wondering if I do see someone standing there or if I simply need sleep.

The hour is late, yes, but I am certain there is a ghost at my door.

Only I do not think to run.

---

I see her in my dreams. 

I realize that now.

Sunfire eyes, bathed in light and haloed in its glory.

For so long my slumbers were deep and dark, empty nothingness. But I preferred this to the nightmares, visions of my sister’s still-sewn lips yearning to scream with a mouth she no longer has. Had. No, has. She exists in my memory still, and I like to keep her alive that way. 

And I see her again in the girl that appears in the shop window, acting presumptuous. 

She is my sister and yet she is not. She is me and I am her. 

I see myself reflected in the bright ochre of her eyes and wonder how much of myself is in there, as if she knows me more than I know myself, still scrying my own image in the mirror of her gaze.

Can she see my darker thoughts laid bare? My sins yet unpunished?

I am and I am not, scrambling to know my own self as if I am a stranger to it. And perhaps I am.

Her name is Claudia. 

And who am I, again?

The ache at the core of me feels less empty at the thought of her, though I do not know why.

---

He looked so desperate, loving me. Looking at me, but never through me, my mind a steel trap he could not get out of if he tried but instead stupidly danced around. Not out of any inherent cleverness, but dumb luck.

I am no one to him and yet I am everything. The stars and the sun and the dirt beneath his bloodied boot.

There’s a desperation to her attention, too, but one that is endearing. Claudia I repeat in my mind. Clau - di - a.   A want that goes beyond craving, threading dangerously close to an insatiable need and I like the feral way she looks at me, the sharp glint in her eye. 

She’s hungry. She feels real. 

And when she looks at me, she sees me, and she does not back away. If anything, she inches closer and I want her to draw even nearer, desiring to see if our shadows match.

She sees me. Really sees me.

As no one else ever had.

She sees not just my face but the sinew and the bone, the very parts we so often forget ensconce our skeletons yet adorn our dinner plates, innards displayed in all their ugly truths. She sees it all and does not flinch. In fact, I feel it in her too.

The beast beneath the beating heart. Forever hungry, though for what, I do not know. Only that I am starving.

And I want so desperately to be seen. 

By anyone, maybe, but especially her. 

Especially her.

---

She’s as delicate as a bird when she wants to be but sharper than a cat’s claws, and my body aches when I watch her dance and mime about the stage, all eyes on her. I want to see her insides, what makes her heart race.

When her eyes meet mine, the world shrinks within the shared orbit of our gaze. And I want to live here forever.

There is an invitation there, not just for company but to bear witness. As if only some of this is for show but there is something left for me, something small and secret yet all-encompassing. I glimpse it, only, but yearn to see her again, alone, wondering if I am wrong for wanting this before realizing that I do not care.

There is nothing the world can do to hurt me any more than it already has. 

Though the thought of never seeing her again sends a pang through my chest that rings heavier than the thought of my dead sister. 

Guilt never finds me, but Claudia does with a smile and a bashful turn of her head that makes me dizzy, and I’m gone again in the dark. 

---

Her skin is warm though it should be cold. 

And her eyes are preternaturally bright, side-slit like a cat’s in a way that makes me melt in her presence. 

It is as if she were made for me, specifically carved out of the same marble I was drawn from, our hollow parts fitting against each other to the point that everything before dims in the brightness of her ever shining light.

I had a dream about her once, when I was young. 

I remember the other girls were talking about the boys in our class and discussing whether they found any of them handsome, wondering whether I felt the same. I found the boys’ faces indifferent. His face was handsome, I think, but not in a way that mattered other than perhaps a textbook. 

But that year I dreamed of a girl, a woman to me then, who shone like the sun during the eclipse - another image from my textbook - her skin dark, but the glow about her blinding, glittering with errant sunlight that sparkled like dew in the face of an oncoming dawn.

It was a vision only, then, a thing to become a memory. But a memory made real the moment she spun for me, smiling, within the depths of my shop, a spry sarcasm hot on her tongue as she danced around me, in body and in words.

I did not yet know her name then, or had I? I cannot remember now. For I felt like we’d always known each other, preordained to meet since time immemorial, her name poised on my tongue like an arrow pulled deep in a bowstring, held taut and ready to spring.

I always felt as if I were not living life and instead merely waiting for it to start.

Perhaps it was for this. Perhaps I was waiting for her.

In Claudia’s eyes, I see what she sees and the vision fits, the last piece clicks into place and I realize this is where I was always meant to be - held in her gaze and safe in her cold embrace.

Life is strange that way. And unusually cruel. 

Especially cruel.

---

In my final hour, I am offered Chardonnay. It was the only wine we could find, pilfered from a neighbor out late, their window left open. 

It’s painfully fruity and bright, not something that suits the mood though it still calms the nerves. I’d even scoured the shop for the whiskey the soldier had loved to sip on, despondent to find not even a finger of amber liquid left and only the ghost of his lips on the rim of the bottle before all that was left of him was gone forever - and good riddance.

But his face is the one I think of first. As the blood drains, as my body turns cold. I imagine something similar happened to him out on the field. I can only hope as much. But his face was sweet, his eyes dark and handsome. He was, afterall, just a boy. But what am I? 

I remember my sister, too, lies buried in the earth somewhere. And as lonely as she is, I am lonely up here, too. And I do not yet want to feed the worms as she does. Not that it’s her fault, not that she ever had a choice.

But I have a choice. Not that I always did. Never did, not before this. So I take it. 

I was offered Chardonnay like an afterthought, a pity. But I am presented with Louis’ wrist as if it is a lifeline, a boon blessed upon me for some long forgotten absolution from a life I no longer remember, a gift undeserving. But it does not matter and I do not care. 

Because I want it - I crave it.

It carves its hollow out from my bones, making me a bright-eyed bird yearning to sing as soon as the blood touches my lips, much like the wine that morning all those years ago, only this time my limbs don’t merely tingle - they tremble - and my face is not warm but turning cold as marble, my features sharper, ever the monster I always had been - was always meant to be. 

Now, the outside matched the inside.

Now, I am dead like the rest of my sisters. Those named and unnamed. Only I will live on, on behalf of all of us.

Louis’ blood revives me just as Christ was revived in that tomb centuries ago, awoken in the dark. But unlike Christ, I am not alone, and beside me are my Father and my Holy Ghost, one for the act to-be and one for the act ongoing. Louis’ blood is like water, satiating in its utter purity, but Claudia’s blood tastes like milk and honey, syrupy and sanguine and just like the very kind of wine I like.

She cradles my head like my mother never did in my childhood, crooning me towards the softness of the light above her head, not towards death but towards our lives yet unlived together, my memories spilling out into the world as I let each of them go like tears in rain. Each of them fall into the palm of her hand, as if for safe keeping. And I trust her more than anything.

Her voice is a lullaby, the comfort that no prayer ever afforded me, the soft edges of her face calming my every nerve as I drift onward and into oblivion, her hand a buoy anchoring me to the now as well as the forever we are about to share. I am laid to rest beneath her feeding mouth and born again from the ambrosia of her wrist into eternity to roam the world by her side.

This communion sees me changed, my mind utterly altered. I am unburdened in her presence and all the lighter for it.

We will be happy here, in the world we’ve yet created, though it already exists in my mind - bright like the spun sugar of her eyes and the dark lace of her hair, glittering in sunlight.

Wine tastes like nothing to me now other than a memory. All I crave is blood, and the closeness of her near me, by my side always.

Never alone again. 

---

My life is small compared to hers etched in hardened stone, her memories all strife and heartache, laced with fire more than once and salted by the dark depths of a bayou I have never visited but whose words are familiar enough to my mother tongue to feel intimate, as if I’d been there in a dream. 

Like the dreams she haunted before her coming. Like the dreams my sister once inhabited but is now absent from, thankfully, if only because now she can truly rest and only because I let her. I will inherit unrest for the both of us and live out the life neither of us were destined to have. 

I soften Claudia’s edges just as she softened mine, combed back my hair with the soft touch of her hands as life ebbed away from me to make way for the death that matches in us both now. 

She melts beneath my questing fingers, all smiles and canines, and I realize that neither food nor drink ever felt near as satiating as this, basking in each other’s company with no need for the warmth of the sun for Claudia is resplendent with the strength of a thousand stars.

Claudia does not remember if she’d tasted wine or the lips of a boy before being born again nor does she believe she was ever loved by her father. I know I wasn’t, so we have that in common as well. Neither of us speak of our mothers.

I wonder if Christ ever kissed anyone, their awkward affair now forgotten having never been committed to a bible verse and lost forever. Claudia is shaped like my sister, made dead before her years, yet looks like a woman and talks like a man I’ve never met though it feels like I know him from somewhere, like an actor from a moving picture or a character in a novel. And I like the way her breath feels on my neck. But I don’t care about this man nor the ghost he’s left behind. Even Christ’s face looks like a stranger despite never having once felt like my friend in the life I had before but especially not after. 

All I care about is Claudia and the way her fingers curl against wrists, both others and my own. The way she does her hair, biting her bottom lip, and the way she bats her lashes as she applies rouge to the ridge of her cheekbone, bringing life back to her undead face. The way our arms wrap around each other in sleep, twining from dawn til dusk.

I realize now how numb I was, as if I was the corpse before and the living thing after. Now I feel deeply, truly, Claudia filling in every absent space between my bones as if we are each a hand clasped in the lap of a love I never thought possible.

I feel like I’ve seen her before. Other than in that dream all those years ago, but instead at the back of my mind, always, like something long forgotten though suddenly remembered, the years in between falling away. 

The future stretches forward, and in death I am more awake than I ever was in life.

---

I forget there was life before her. 

Before her voice, before her cutting remarks, before the cold warmth of her embrace. 

I love the way she utters my name, finessing every syllable in her plethora of accents, making it sound new each time she says it.

Madeleine, Ma-de-leine, Maddie, Mads, mon cher.

The world is endlessly vibrant with her in it, and I hardly miss the morning with her by my side. 

Night feels like eternal twilight and I wonder if this is how the other parishioners felt upon sipping from Christ’s cup - a part of something larger, the world sparkling more with meaning than it had before. 

I wonder why I was born at all, but then again, had I not been I would never have been unmade.

I would be buried six feet underground with three other sisters, one with a name and two without, an even set of pairs the lot of us four.

But let them be an uneven three. I’d rather they died so I may yet survive. 

Someone should, right?

You’re so clever, I tell Claudia, night after night. 

Sometimes with words, sometimes with kisses, each indulgent pass of my lips a sentence I desperately want her to decipher.

Either way, she smiles.

You're too kind to me, she’d say, the smirk painting her perfect lips. 

And I blush, echoes of my past repeating back to me as I tell her: No one has been kind to you enough, so I will be on their behalf.

Because it is true and I can see the hurt behind her eyes at the recognition of it, the agony of the realization followed swiftly by the ecstasy of the aftermath, and I want us to exist here for all time, finally getting the things we deserve thrice-over and tenfold, forever and ever.

She deserves the world and I want to give it to her, because she saw the endless ache within me and gave it the very thing it so craved before I even knew what it was. 

It is only polite to return the favor, but I want to do and be more than that. I pray at the altar of her every evening and offer myself to her every dawn, each kiss an oblation, every embrace a promise. And not one I intend to ever break.

---

I did not choose a lot of things. Most things. 

My name, my hair, the shape of my face. 

But I have inherited them and shaped them to suit me. Would I choose them again if given the chance? Perhaps, if I knew the outcome of my ingenuity…

But Claudia?

I would choose her again, and again, and again. 

Her eyes are ember coals that burn hot with a fire I never knew in life, inspiring a similar heat within me that emanates eternally. My body arches towards hers, yearning to hear her words, watching as her lips speak, for they utter the absolute gospel of our quiet being and absolve us of our every sin. For we were never sinners, no. Merely mortal women given the wrong tools, outdated blueprints. We were never meant to live this long.

Yet we have eternity in each other.

She waltzed into my shop like a true American, brash and assuming, eyes wild and nostrils aflare. The utmost opposite of anything I ever wanted to shadow my door. I held only disdain for her the moment I sensed her, but the moment I saw her? Well… that is another matter entirely. 

Especially when you consider how fickle memory is. 

Especially mine.

---

I like the way her memories mesh with my own whenever we touch, and the way my mind feels inhabited by something other than the ghost of a life ever-reaching into the endless past when she is near. 

As if the past is more than a misremembered misdemeanor. More than a nightmare on repeat, meant to replay mistakes ad nauseum only. Together we rewrite ourselves as we always envisioned, as we were always meant to be. 

As life should have allowed us both but failed, fate now taken up in our own bloodstained hands.

With her, I feel present. With her I feel raw. There is nothing behind my eyes other than errant want and idle hunger, a languid ease of existence I never knew possible before Claudia, her feline smile enough to soothe my every worry and soften life’s every edge.

She is she, and I am I. 

As we always were and were forever meant to be.

And beneath the desire and the clawing ache, there is love. Unending and undeniable love. 

I felt it then, that first night glimpsed beneath cutting words, messy and unabashed, and I feel it now in the heat of our demise. Hand in hand, descending into the hell we deserve but only by design. 

We never stood a chance - before or after our joining. Monsters made and monsters slain in blood and body both.

But at least we had each other - no. At least we have each other .

Now, always, and never.

In this death we will truly have eternity, her ashes in mine and mine indistinguishable from hers, intermingling forever until we become one with the universe again but with my hand in hers always. In this we will have everlasting life despite only glimpsing heaven in each other's arms for too short a time.

I feel fire at my back, licking at the nape of my neck and lancing through my limbs, but I cling to Claudia for she is still the sun in my own personal universe, and Hell would only be tolerable with her by my side. A lonely life was worth the ache if only to be with her just the once.

We are the only ones left at the end of the world, but at least for a brief glimmer of a moment it was ours. And ours alone.

In her, I had eternity, and it will always be enough.

[asmutwriter]

A True Lady (Part 1)

This was originally a Benedict fic but I changed it to Anthony. So apologies if she seems flirty towards both of them, its likely because I missed it when I reread it to change the names.

Anthony x Reader

WORD COUNT: 4182

Next / Master List

WARNINGS: mentions of prostitution, time period sexism, swearing, talk of sex, kissing, drunk kissing

DISCLAIMERS

-   This is fiction. Please always talk to your partner before doing anything and make sure they are ok with what you are doing beforehand

It was your 19th birthday. You were helping one of your roommates get in the washing. You lived in a small house, able to afford a room but having to share with a few other people. You were helping out the girl that lived in the same room as you when a knock at the door distracted you. You saw a very well dressed man look at you “Excuse me ma’am, is Miss-” he reads the letter he has “-Smith living here?” you nod slightly

“That is me. How can I help you?” he hands you a letter.

“From your father”

“I’m sorry there must be a mistake” he shakes his head “No, you see I got told my father died years ago” he shakes his head again

“M’lady. Your father died a few days ago. This is his will” he motions his eyes at the letter “I’d recommend you read it” he clears his throat “we will come and collect you in a few days” and with that he bows and walks to his carriage. You go to speak again but get called by the other women. You quickly take the letter and place it into your corset. 

“Who was that?”

“A lord of sorts I believe. I think he lost his way” you smile at her as she nods “I completely forgot, I was meant to be doing a work thing today. So I’m going to go” you excuse yourself and go to work. 

It doesn’t pay much, but working in a factory defiantly gets you enough money for food on your plate. When you get there you meet with two of your friends, both on the same level of factory work as you. You pull out the will from your bodice whilst explaining what had happened. “But I thought your dad had died before you were born?”

“So did I” you open the letter and read it out loud

‘My dearly beloved family, if you are reading this I am afraid it is because I have succumbed to my illness and died. I want you all to know I love you with all my heart but I-” your eyes widen at the next line, your friends getting closer to you with anticipation “I feel like you are all like vultures and trying to get close to me. I know I was never the best father in the world, but for you all to try and get close to me as I lie dying, well it’s embarrassing for you all. So for each of you I leave a penny. Apart for my bastard child, Emily Smith, to which I leave the rest of my fortune and my entire estate. My dear, I hope my footman has managed to deliver this letter to you and I hope you are reading this. I am sorry we never met and I’m sorry you will be suddenly thrown into the limelight but as of receiving this letter you will no longer be known as Miss Emily Smith, but instead as Lady Emily Garcia. My footmen will pick you up in a few days after you receive this letter so you may have enough time to pack your belongings and make your way to your new life” You feel tears start to swell

“You’re going to be rich”

“Ooh a real lady” your friends joke with you and hug you as you stand in shock. You hear the boss call out your names. Yelling at you to either leave with no pay or get back to work. The three of you decide on the latter, you’re friend whispering to you before you separate on the work floor.

“When you become rich, don’t forget about us” you shake your head as you smile at them

“I would never forget my best friends”

-

A few months had passed since getting the letter. You said farewell to your home. Leaving behind the small room and your roommates behind. Thankfully you could write them letters to stay in touch but you’d only lived with them for a short while so hadn’t grown a strong bond with them. Not strong enough to bring them with you to your new life. So although you were sad in leaving them you were happy to move on with your life. You also didn’t tell them it was your father that had left a fortune as you were a bit worried they might try and steal it from you, knowing how light fingered a few of them were.

But none the less, here you were sitting at the head of your table, trying to remember which spoon was for which meal. The meal in question sat in front of you and your handmaiden awaiting eagerly for you to pick the correct utensils. You point to one of the forks and she shakes her head sadly and points to the correct fork. You grunt in annoyance “Why must I know the details of all the cutlery? No one shall see me eat anything anyway”

“It is only proper for you to know which one is which for if you go to a party, or for when you finally have a party”

“Or I could just not eat whenever that happens and drink a lot of whatever is on offer so I feel full” you smile at her to which she chuckles slightly “When am I able to throw a party?” you query

“When you have been considered part of high society. No one is aware of your father’s death apart from his family, and we are planning on keeping it that way until it gets out on its own. Or in a month or two” you nod

“Do we have any animals?” she shakes her head

“But if you would like any you would be able to afford them. Horses and dogs are always love-”

“I want chickens. Ooh and possibly some pigs!”

“Excuse me?”

“You said we could afford them...? Or did you mean we could only afford one set of animals, like a singular dog or something? Sorry, I both keep forgetting that we have money but that also think we have unlimited money” she shakes her head and laughs slightly

“No miss, when people tend to say they want animals they tend to say more... domesticated creatures like a dog, or even a cat” you nod

“But if we had more farm animals then we could sell things like eggs and milk, we could also give it to those less fortunate in order to keep our charisma up amongst the people. I’d be happy to look after them all as well, I know not everyone is happy to clean animals out or anything” she nods and smiles at you

“I think getting some animals would be a marvellous idea. We have enough money to afford paddocks for them and enough land as well” you smile as you both talk about the animals you could have and where they could be placed on your land.

-

This is how you met the duke. Turns out your father had close ties to him and when you mentioned animals to your servants they introduced you to him, who was happy to guide you to the best farmers around. You grew a close friendship with him, which you enjoyed. He also understood what it was like to be seen down on by some members of society so you already had that in common. You thought you knew him fully, until you met his wife. Daphne. He’d said to you a few times that he would never get married so when he came to you with his newly wed wife you were shocked. But this only lasted a few moments as you grew a friendship with her as well, welcoming her to stay with you at any time if she wanted to get away from her duchess duties, or even her wifely duties, to which she was more than happy to stay with you a few times over the course of their early marriage. Then you got word of her pregnancy which also shocked you, but you were glad your close friends were happy and in love. 

This is when you got a letter from her one morning. It asked if she could possibly come to see you and get away from prying eyes when she was in the latter half of her pregnancy. You happily agreed, asking if she’d come to visit next week to which she accepted.

So when the day arrived, you heard her carriage pull up and you ran outside to great your friend. You brought her into a hug “It has been so long! I can’t believe you managed to get knocked up” she looks slightly shocked at your words, when you hear a cough from behind you. A man with dark eyes meets your gaze

“You weren’t wrong sister” you shoot a curious look at him then back at her. She places her hands on your shoulders and smile at you

“So I mentioned coming here to my mother and she said that it’d be lovely for her to come and join me, just to keep an eye. And the next thing I knew all of them had said they wanted to join” you see three young children jump out of a different carriage and run up the length of the garden to the house entrance, followed by a young lady shouting after them. You look inside the carriage Daphne had been in and saw a woman and 2 men. You bow slightly at them and then furrow your brows

“I thought you were one of eight, but I only count seven”

“Yes Colin couldn’t join us as he’s on his travels” you nod and smile at them all as they exit and look around. You link arms with your friend, and lean towards her

“I still can’t believe you got knocked up” you whisper to which she chuckles and playfully hits your arm “to be fair, with how you talked about your antics beforehand I’m surprised it didn’t happen sooner”

“Emily!” you laugh at her sudden embarrassment and head inside. 

It had come to dinner time and you were helping your maids serve food for you and your guests. Although you knew it is improper for the lady of the house to help you found yourself feeling to mean to let them do it on their own and it really didn’t bother you. But as you went and gathered everyone to sit down you found yourself at the head of the table, Daphne one side of you, her mother the other, the variety of siblings down the length of the table with the viscount at the other end. You all begin eating, a few minutes in the mother speaks up. “Are we not to be joined by the lord of the house?”

“Oh there is no lord” she looks confused “I’m not married” you smile at her. She nods and looks at your hand

“But your ring...?”

“Oh, I wear it to trick certain men into thinking I’m a wed woman so they don’t try and flirt with me. I actually just found it amongst some of my father’s belongings when I moved in”

“Does that not deter you from men who want to marry you” you laugh 

“Men don’t want to marry me. They tend to find me strange and to independent. So I try not to attract them if I can help it” you look at the sister as she looks at you in awe

“So you don’t ever want to marry?” you shrug “isn’t that against everything in your title? And your gender?” you nod

“Yes it is. My title and my gender implies that I should get married and bare children but I’ve seen far too many women suffer greatly from pregnancy and child birth. Plus the heartbreak they often have. I think I’ll pass on it all” You smile and carry on with your meal as some of the table looks at you with amusement, the others with a slight disgust. Violet clears her throat and moves on the conversation. You see the eldest son exchange a few words with his brother but they are too far away for you to hear. At the end of the meal you go up to the eldest brother “I have a few men coming round for work purposes tomorrow and I wondered if you would like to meet them? All businessmen and lords and so on. I think it might be good from a business point of view for you” he nods

“That would be very nice, I’d like to meet them indeed” he smiles as you all part ways for the night. 

The next morning you are awake early, dressed in your finest dress as you great various lords. You have them all go into a room “I will go get Lord Bridgeton for you shortly” you smile and leave the room, shutting the door behind you before placing your ears to the door. You feel a touch on your shoulder which makes you jump. You meet Benedict’s blue eyes and you cover his mouth before he goes to say something. You whisper to him “I’m eavesdropping to see what they say about me to see if they deserve tea and biscuits or not” he chuckles and places his ear next to the door with you as you both listen in on the conversation. Anthony also walks up to which you shush him as well and explain. He rolls his eyes but waits patiently as the two of you stand by the door.

“Goodness how long does it take her to bring him?”

“I mean, I’d also be straining given how big her breasts are. They must be heavy things”

“Oh yes but my god they look good on her” you hold back a slight laugh, finding it amusing how awful some men can be.

“I’d quite like to see her undressed though”

“Have you not heard the rumours? She apparently only managed to get this place because she was screwing the Lord himself”

“Goodness I bet she puts out for everyone”

“I’ve heard that she is great with her mouth”

“I guess we’ll see later wont we gentlemen”

“She won’t do anything whilst the Bridgeton’s are here, she may be great in bed but she wouldn’t want to ruin her relations with them”

“I don’t know, if she keeps giving me those sex eyes I might have to have my way with her” you move away from the door and take a deep breath. You feel both brothers’ eyes on you as you try not to cry out in annoyance. You finally lift your head up and look at the oldest one

“Shall we go in?” your voice cracks slightly. He shakes his head 

“I do not wish to be near such awful people” you shrug

“That is your choice, but I cannot be put down by what men think of me” You half smile at him, but he notices it does not meet your eyes. “Don’t let on that we heard them, please?” he nods slightly and you see him look behind you at his other brother to which you turn around. “Or you?” to which he also nods. You shake your hands in a fashion to get yourself ready then flatten your dress “God sometimes I hate having tits...” you whisper under your breath as you open the door and greet your guests with a fake smile “Gentlemen, viscount Anthony Bridgeton. I shall leave you all alone to query your ideas. If you need me I will be tending to my animals” you smile and exit, shutting the door behind you. Benedict reaches out a hand towards you as a sign of comfort but you shake your head “I’m ok... thank you...” you give him a sad but genuine smile as you leave, going up to your library in hopes that some fictional world can help you forget about the real world even if only for 5 minutes. 

Half an hour or so must’ve passed until you hear a knock on the door “come in” as you look up to see the eldest brother walk in.

“I thought I would come and check you were ok” you nod

“I am fine. I’m used to such words, the problems of being a women completely independent from a man I suppose” you place your book down as he steps in more and pushes the door to, but not shutting it completely. “I hope you didn’t tarnish any propositions they gave you just because of the words they said about me?” he shakes his head

“They didn’t have anything I wanted anyway. Either too expensive to invest in or not bringing in enough money for my sake” you nod as you watch him come behind your chair and angle you to look into the mirror that is in the room. He smiles at you in the reflection as he leans down to your height “I want you to be able to see that you are a kind and genuine person that is doing an amazing job at running a house. You are beautiful both inside and out and none of those men deserve you” you smile at his words and turn to face him, only mere inches away from him 

“Thank you... I needed that” you smile at him and gently kiss his forehead before leaning back in your chair. He looks slightly shocked by the affection but stands up straight and coughs slightly

“I shall leave you to it, and probably see you at dinner” you nod and wave at him as he exits. You then get back to your reading. 

Hours pass and it is dinner, you all sit and eat together. You come to realise that the brothers don’t seem to have told anyone about what they heard.

 A couple more days pass. You had gotten close to all the Bridgeton family. The youngest being sweet and kind. Violet helping you with proper etiquette. Daphne being your good friend. Eloise and Benedict helping you broaden your horizons when it came to arts such as drawing and reading. Lastly Anthony giving you good trade offers and other tradesmen that you could work with. You’d gotten the closest with him, spending most of your time together as you talked business.

As another night falls upon your house you find yourself outside lying on the grass looking at the sky. You have had difficulty sleeping due to the stress of going to be public and attending your first ball in a weeks’ time and you found the night sky incredibly relaxing. Apparently you are not the only one either as you hear someone sit next to you. You turn your head to see Anthony looking up at the sky. You half smile and look back up. Only a few minutes pass before he breaks the silence “You know, a lady shouldn’t be out here on her own with a strange man” you chuckle slightly

“You aren’t a strange man. A man yes, strange no” he chuckles

“A stranger then” you nod 

“True. I suppose I’m not one for formalities though” he nods and it is silent again. You sit up, pulling out a flask and offering it to him, to which he agrees taking a sip. You smile as you also drink from it after him 

“God that is strong” he coughs slightly as you chuckle 

“I’m still learning the basics of brewing it. This is the 3rd batch I’ve made” he chuckles slightly and nods, watching as you take another sip

“This may be an incredibly personal question but what did you do before you lived here?”

“You don’t know?” he shakes his head and murmurs

“No. I know you inherited this place from your father when he died but that’s all I know” you nod and look down, fiddling with the bow on the front of your nightdress

“I was born into a poor family. My mother did her best to look after me but she died when I was young. So I knew from a young age I had to make my own living. But I didn’t know how so I started stealing. Just small things. Food mainly. But I stole from this woman when I must’ve been about eleven. She caught me, but noticed I was starving so looked after me. Gave me a home and a job in a factory. I worked there for eight years until I received the letter from my father” you chuckle slightly “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bombard you with so much stuff...” he shakes his head as he watches you lie down. You offer him the drink again to which he takes a sip from.

“I wanted to know” you hear him take in a sharp breath. Not sure if it’s from the alcohol or the cold air “I would like to apologise again for those men from a few days ago”

“That wasn’t your fault in any way so no need to be sorry. I’m just sorry that you had to hear such horrific things. I promise I don’t put out as they said” he takes another sip before handing it to you

“I’m sure you don’t”

“I mean I’ve defiantly kissed people but that’s an affection thing rather than a sexual thing” he chuckles as you giggle slightly. The alcohol had definitely settled in now. You could tell that much from the way you both were acting. Although neither of you had had much of it, it was very strong so only a few sips seemed to affect you both. This is also when you remembered that you were always maybe a little too open and friendly towards people when intoxicated

“When was your first kiss then?” you shyly shrug, trying to ignore the heat rising to your face.

“Probably about two years ago” He nods. You see his eyes dart to look at your lips as he leans down closer to you, lying next to you so you’re only mere inches away. He looks back at your eyes as he gently strokes your cheek “Yeah. It was a night similar to this. We were drinking and I confessed that I’d never kissed anyone and he said I couldn’t live my life not having kissed anyone. So we then had a kiss. It wasn’t very long and there wasn’t any tongue or anything but it was good” you realise that whilst you were speaking he was looking at you. You couldn’t quite tell how he was feeling. Amused, excited and something else. You smile up at him as he smiles down at you. His pupils dilated from the effects of the alcohol.

“So you enjoy kissing then?” you nod and feel your cheeks go red. You feel his thumb move from your cheek to brush over your lips.

“Goodness” you feel yourself getting redder as you continue to make eye contact so you break it. You feel his finger gently move your head back to look at him again and he smiles sweetly at you. He gently strokes the other side of your cheek with his thumb

“When did you last kiss someone?”

“I-I don’t remember. Probably over a year ago”

“Do you want to change that?” you swallow deeply as your breath hitches with those words. Letting out a small nod he smiles and gets closer to you, noses barely touching. “May I?” you nod again and without hesitation he presses his lips to yours. Your wrap both your arms around his neck, one getting caught in his hair and the other in the back of his shirt. He takes it slow and as a few minutes pass he breaks the kiss, looking down at you to see how you’d react. You let out a small whine and your eyes dart back down to his lips then back to his eyes. He smirks as he kisses you once again, moving so he is between your legs, his forearm on the floor next to your head and the other placed gently in your hair. You keep kissing intensely, only breaking apart for a few seconds for air. Before you can catch your breath he’s kissing your jaw line. Letting you catch your breath before he comes back up to kiss you. You run a hand through his hair. Pulling him into you as your tongues dance around each other. After a few minutes he pulls away. Admiring your kiss swollen lips. “We should leave before a servant sees us” you nod slightly as he places a quick kiss to your lips as he sits up properly. Standing up and pulling you with him. You feel light headed from the kissing and a new sensation forming between your legs so he helps you back to your bedroom, before he makes his way to his. 

[loosesodamarble]

The Heartless Witch and the Vice Captain of the Black Bulls

Summary: Josele approaches Nacht about his assignment as a vice captain. Nacht, however, stubbornly refuses and says more than he should. Genre: general, slight angst Word count: ~2000

..........

Josele stared at the black robe that the Dark Mage had delivered to her the other day. It had been given to her to pass along to “that shady bastard.”

He was talking about the Shadow Mage. Josele shook her head and focused. No. He’s… Faust?

Something about calling him that still didn’t seem right in her head. But it was all Josele could come up with when she thought of what his name was. She knew what to call him before. His name had once been almost too easy for her to recall. His name would also cause a warmth in her chest, her whole body.

But in the years since she cursed herself, though, his name and the feelings he evoked had faded.

Josele felt a sharp ache in her chest the more she tried to think of who the Shadow Mage was beyond “Faust.” She’d grown used to the sudden bouts of pain even though the reason for them eluded her.

However, Josele told herself not knowing was safer than learning the truth.

Josele tightened her grip on the black robe and reminded herself of her goal. Through the dim and neglected halls of House Faust her feet carried her to where the Shadow Mage was likely to be. His late father’s study. He holed himself in that room so very often, reading and researching and becoming consumed with knowledge of Forbidden Magic.

For what purpose? Josele thought. Whenever I ask, the Shadow Mage makes a face like… he’s been injured.

Josele stopped in front of the door of the study. She raised her hand.

Hesitation made her pause.

It wasn’t that she believed she would be turned away. There was no doubt in Josele’s mind that she’d be let in.

She would enter the room and see him. The man with pale skin, deep ebony hair, and eyes like… Not like ice. Such eyes didn’t deserve to be compared to something so cold. Instead, his eyes were soft. Delicate. Beautiful. Like the petals of a forget-me-not. Josele didn’t miss the irony of comparing the eyes of a man whose name she couldn’t recall to a flower called “forget-me-not.” But it was the only thing that Josele thought of as an appropriate comparison.

Wait… Why am I thinking so hard about the color of his eyes? Josele groaned when she caught her mind drifting.

Now she was distracted rather than hesitating.

Josele took a breath before finally knocking and calling out, “Can I come in?”

A beat of silence.

He’s not going to turn me away, is he? The thought made Josele’s chest mysteriously ache once more.

The throbbing was eased by the sound of the Shadow Mage’s speaking from beyond the door.

“Come in,” he said in a flat but clear voice.

…

The situation was beginning to feel hopeless.

Every tome that Nacht had searched bore no results to the questions he desperately wanted—no, needed—answered. Since he’d returned home and discovered Josele in her cursed state and with the company of a devil, he’d been seeking a way to free her from both.

Josele, who had always been an honest and kind girl, didn’t deserve to be tainted by the darkness of Forbidden Magic the way Nacht had been. Josele, who lived with her heart laid bare for all to see, shouldn’t have ever sealed away the emotions that made up her being. Josele, who was Morgen’s beloved, couldn’t continue to exist the way she was.

All of Nacht’s searching and reaching had been for naught in the last few years. He’d grasped at so many straws. A former king who broke a curse that had been in his bloodline for centuries. A princess who inherited the power to dispel any curse. Crystalline flowers that bloomed from people’s joy and had been used to lift the curse placed on a prince. Nacht sought out the source of each tale, no matter how implausible, hoping that one could break Josele’s Locked Heart Curse. Because if Josele had her heart back, then she’d realize her mistake in contracting with a devil and break it off herself.

When Nacht stopped finding leads for ways to free Josele from her curse, he moved onto attempting to force Josele’s contract with Almatra to end. Even if ending the contract wouldn’t have an effect on Josele’s curse, it was better than leaving it be. However, information regarding devils and their contracts was scarce, even for the heir to House Faust’s devilish traditions.

“Is it truly impossible?” Nacht gripped his hair and scowled. “No no no… There has to be a way! I just haven’t found an answer yet because House Faust only has so many books. If I look elsewhere then maybe…”

A rap on the door stilled Nacht’s racing thoughts.

“Can I come in?” Josele’s dull voice reached Nacht’s ears.

Not that anyone else would be here to seek me out, Nacht lamented somberly.

Morgen was no longer around to ask Nacht to join the Magic Knights. Maybe Nacht would actually accept now. Yami dropped by on rare occasions to pester Nacht. That or to chat with what was left of Josele.

Nacht shook his head while closing the book he’d been combing through. Research would resume after he spoke with Josele.

“Come in.”

Josele stepped into the study. A piece of black fabric was clutched in her hand.

“What did you want to tell me?” Nacht asked as he rose from his seat. “Is it already time for lunch?” It wouldn’t have been the first time he lost track of time during his research. “Or did you need me to help you with something?” Josele would ask him to go with her on errands or spar to keep her skills sharp. “What is it you need?”

Nacht would give Josele anything she needed if she asked for it. In fact, he relished in the moments when Josele sought him out. Because it was a sign that he meant something to her, that there were things she still valued.

And that peek into her still beating heart kept Nacht from giving up hope.

“I don’t need anything from you right now,” Josele stated as she walked deeper into the room and towards Nacht. “I have something that the Dark Mage told me was for you.”

Josele stopped in front of Nacht and grasped his wrist before placing the black fabric in his hand. Nacht looked at the cloth, eyebrow raised.

“What is it exactly?”

“A squad robe. The Dark Mage stated that you would be his vice captain.”

A scowl crossed Nacht’s face. He didn’t think Yami was serious about dragging him into some nonsense squad like he said back at Morgen’s grave. It would only be a hassle for Nacht. So Nacht tossed the piece of clothing to the floor.

“Like hell I am,” Nacht retorted. He took his hand back from Josele and walked around her towards the door. “Pardon me. I’m going to step out.”

“You’re not going to accept?” Josele didn’t look the least bit fazed despite her question. “He said… that you would be vice captain whether you like it or not. And being considered for leadership in a Magic Knight squad is an honor.”

“It’s a useless honor for me,” replied Nacht, having paused at the door. “Yami invited you to be a member of his squad too, didn’t he?” He narrowed his gaze on Josele without glaring.

“He did.”

Nacht ignored the softness of Josele’s voice in that short phrase. He must’ve imagined it, imagined Josele sounding as if her heart had been touched by another’s consideration.

Nacht faced the door and clutched the knob tightly in his hand. He fought to take in breath and resist the stinging sensation welling up in his eyes. If nothing else, he would not subject Josele to himself in a sorry state. He couldn’t crumble when Josele was already shattered.

Whatever strength of will he could muster from himself. The fragile hope he clung to against the odds. Every worthless part of himself, he dedicated to Josele. But even that was not enough. For Josele deserved someone who was good to their core and could help her through the dark time in her life. She deserved far more, far better, than Nacht and what he could offer. Still, Nacht felt responsible.

So he pushed down his tears and put on a brave face. It was necessary to be strong.

He clicked his tongue then spat, “Don’t bother. Nothing good will come from joining him.”

“What is your reasoning for saying that?” Josele asked.

“Yami is… a troublesome man,” Nacht grumbled back. “He’s crude with his words. Unruly and destructive. And he always does as he pleases, without much thought to others.”

He grit his teeth thinking about his best friend. Yami would’ve chortled at the description Nacht had given him. It was like Yami prided himself on being a thoroughly unpleasant man. The kind of man that Nacht used to be.

Nacht felt sick just thinking about it, his past self. His cruel and evil ways had destroyed… everything. Not that he was much better in the present.

“I will be joining the Dark Mage’s squad, no matter what you say,” Josele stated, breaking Nacht from his thoughts. “I didn’t officially quit after all.”

Nacht turned and gazed upon Josele.

For the most part, she looked as blank as ever. But Nacht could see in her small tells that she was troubled. Her gaze drifted off to the side, as though she were lost in thought. Her right arm crossed in front so she could hold her left arm to her side.

“I should be out there, helping the people. I must protect others. That is… my job as a Magic Knight.”

It wasn’t duty that compelled Josele, Nacht knew that much. The fact that she could no longer recognize that part of herself made Nacht’s chest ache even more.

“I see. If that’s what you choose…” 

Nacht wasn’t going to stop her. He didn’t think anyone would extend such an invitation to her, as she was currently, so he’d let it be. That didn’t mean he couldn’t be irritated with the situation. And it didn’t stop him from hating that he’d been arbitrarily assigned as a vice captain.

“Shado— Nn… Faus—”

There was the briefest touch, but enough for Nacht to register Josele’s gentleness and warmth, on Nacht’s shoulder.

“Don’t!”

Nacht raised his hand and smacked Josele’s away.

“We’re done talking, Josele,” Nacht snapped, taking a step in Josele’s direction. “If you want to join that failure then be my guest. But I have better things to do than pretend that I’m some hero and waste time on useless endeavors.”

As soon as the words left Nacht, he snapped to his senses.

Josele had taken a step back and turned her head away. Her expression was unchanged. But Nacht saw in his mind’s eye the face she would’ve made if things were as they should’ve been. A slight frown with parted lips, furrowed brows, and eyes filled not with anger but concern.

“I’m… sorry.”

Why? Why did she say that when Nacht was in the wrong? Why, the question always came back to Nacht when he thought about Josele.

“I’ll let you leave.”

Nacht’s lips parted. But no words came to him. His already raised hand could have reached her. But he pulled away instead. He turned his back on Josele and left.

Dammit. Every time. Nacht grit his teeth as he stalked through the hall to anywhere else other than the office. No matter what, I always hurt her again.

…

Josele blinked and noticed that her sight had blurred.

“Hm?”

She touched her cheek and it came back wet. The Shadow Mage’s eyes looked wet with tears, too.

She inhaled and her lungs felt sore. The Shadow Mage’s breathing had sounded a bit labored, too.

Her body ached and yet felt hollow at the same time. Did the Shadow Mage experience the same sensation?

All they had done was talk, and the slap wasn’t even that hard. So what caused the pain she was feeling?

Josele wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand as she walked out of the office.

[navy-leader]

Okay Is It just me or am I a little bit lost on how Victims gonna fulfill this whole. . .Revenge thing he has going on, like are we forgetting that these guys are legit just, PIXELS? Sentient AI, and Alan Is a living breathing human being, like how Is that gonna work, and they all know that Alan Is a human and not just a cursor we’ve seen It countless of times, like It Victim just gonna bomb his house with drones or some shit or hack his computer, like are you planing on killing him. . .??? WHAT??? LIKE PEOPLE AREN’T THINKING ABOUT THIS, LIKE ALANS IN THE REAL WORLD, How Is this gonna coordinate, like chances are Alan DOESNT even remember Victim exist, like that’s so embarrassing for him, like he Is as Irrelevant right now as a spec of dust, like I felt threatened at first but now. . .Uhm not so much, hoping we get some more world building because the lore runs deep, I wanna see how the real world would clash Into this universe, like Is Alan the only one who can create live sticks and hollow heads, are there laws regarding It, can only certain people do It, HOW IS ALAN NOT IN DEEP SHIT AS WE SPEAK BECAUSE ONE OF HIS CREATIONS ALMOST DESTROYED HALF OF THE INTERNET, LIKE THATS SOME SERIOUS STUFF AND HES JUST GOING OFF SCOTT FREE, DO PEOPLE KNOW STICKS EXIST, ALAN PLEASE WE NEED ANSWERS MAN YOUR KILLING US.

THAT IS TRUE. I ALSO DIDNT THINK THAT;;;; I always assumed the goal was to kill Alan but again,,,, How.

And god yes irrelevancy and being overlooked has always been a factor of victim's character, both in-universe AND real world, i feel its in the name,,, and names hold power in this world, hes meant to be nothing more than that;; UNTIL NOW I GUESS????

Also i dont think Alan is the only one who can create these kinds of stickmen? Because in the conversation he had with that programmer in AVA2 its implied that perhaps the hollowheads we see in the series arent the only superpowered stickmen out there,,, Alan/Noogai made the mistake of making Chosen THE CHOSEN ONE, but there Was a way to get rid of him, unless that way was exactly the way that Noogai did it, then,,

I made the speculation that Noogai was just a young curious kid on the internet, messing with things that are more dangerous than he thought, like accidentally downloading a virus from the internet (which Chosen technically is?), he wouldntve known this is whatd happen but god knows if anyone else has done it as well. And hell how would Chosen and Dark link back to Noogai? Its not like his name is on them or anything.

Okay imagine Victim isnt only going after Alan, maybe its going after people who Are Like Alan, maybe internet users in general, maybe Alan is only his FIRST target, a little revenge before he starts his Real siege