Forever heartbroken at the thought that Lucien was another victim of a hag, at the mercy of someone else's bargain with them--like Beau, like Veth. A deal he never made, but was still forced to pay the price. Even as it tore his family apart. Lucien, young and terrified and wallowing in guilt, haunted for years by all the people he was forced to lead to a little house in the woods. Unable to bear it any longer.
"'We did owe her. Mum and Da did, I mean, but I was the one who paid that blood price.' I'm not surprised you remember the way. His stomach lurched. 'I'd...lure folk out to her cottage. Da would hand me a little paper slip, and whoever it said, I'd convince them to come along, get them near her cottage, and she would charm them. You saw what happens after that.'"
"'We were punished for seeing what they couldn't. After a while I couldn't let it go on, couldn't look at myself or live with myself, so I burned down the caravan with all three of them inside, took my sister, and that was that...No more little songs. No more farces.'"
"If all along her demise only required a dagger to the heart, then why had he let it go on so long? A parade of faces whipped by, and Lucien abruptly had to know, had to see...he raced to the cottage and threw open the door. And there he saw the parade of faces again, lifeless and now stretched..."
Lucien who knows so intimately the same pain of Caleb's past, both of them desperate to do everything they can to turn back time, get their family back. But Lucien's parents never loved him like that, were never the kind and warm family that Caleb had. They abused him and his siblings for years. And then they forced him to be part of their deal with a hag.
And all the while, as a young child Lucien was leading dangerous people deep into the woods all alone, that very same witch always intended to add him to her collection one day too. Lucien's father sends others to their deaths so easily. If the hag had outright asked for his own child instead, would he even care? Because he didn't when the hag made their first son Empty, turned him into a hollow puppet.
And what Azrahari says to Lucien is just so chilling, such a violation of his autonomy. "My beautiful boy...I had hoped to make you mine one day. What a perfect specimen you would have made. Oh, how you would have been merry with laughter and dance..." (And the comment about being beautiful? Can't help remembering Jester calling Lucien dreamy, and how it takes him by surprise. How all his life he was made to feel different, cursed--an outcast--)
Thinking about "no more little songs." Thinking about how much Lucien actually loved the little plays and performances his family put on, still remembers his lines all these years later, still carries a love for song and dance that bleeds into Mollymauk. Molly, who does get to be "merry with laughter and dance," who fills the Emptiness Lucien always so feared with joy and warmth and love.
Making a happy life for himself, taking back the freedom and autonomy the hag and the Eyes all tried to steal from Lucien. And maybe a part of Lucien always recoils from Mollymauk because he reminds him too much of the haunting mirror image the hag tried to make him, the promise of eternal happiness while tying him with puppet strings. Lucien never quite believing that Molly is real or whole or free, that such a charmed life can be anything but a dream--like the one he always chased--
Thinking of how the thing Lucien wanted most was a happy family, the "once upon a time" fairytale life from the stories he always cherished, merry little songs and plays and dance. Stories as an escape, a familiar place of childhood comfort, something to cling to in his darkest moments.
"'Once upon a time, there was a happy family.' (He recognized the sweet, musical voice of Elatis...) 'Mother and Father loved their three children dearly, and they all lived in a green wooden house with tall windows and strong doors. Mother taught the young of a fine, rich family, and Father carved instruments for the kingdom's musicians. They never went hungry, they never quarreled, and their lives were golden for all their days.'"
"'Once upon a time,' he said, eyes open and staring across the dome gathering snow. 'There was a happy family, and they were that way for a little while. Something tore them apart from the inside out...There was a happy family, and then it was gone.'"
"Once upon a time, there was a happy family... In the dream they would be whole again. In Cognouza, it would all be fixed...He told himself it wasn't too far gone, then pulled his shoulders back and clawed raw wounds down his monstrous face, smiling all the while, his teeth becoming fangs becoming tusks. Once upon a time..."
Thinking of how it's ultimately the Moonweaver who's able to make those dreams a reality, who gives them the second chance he's always begged for. "Once upon a time--" "Twice upon a time--" "Thrice upon a time--" When a part of him became Molly. When the two of them become Kingsley.
"'Once upon a time,' she says, then her milk-white eyes pop upon in surprise and she giggles. You want to stay here forever, in her odd, forever-moving sensuality. 'No, twice upon a time. Now we can begin. Begin again, I mean.'"
"Here we go: Once upon a time, twice upon a time. She pauses and giggles. 'Thrice upon a time, f--' Her white brow furrows. 'Hang on. What comes after thrice? Does anyone know?...Isn't that the strangest thing? There is nothing after thrice in the sequence, it just ends there. But that doesn't seem right, does it? Or fair. Well. I think we shall just have to make it up."
Thinking about a young and terrified tiefling whose parents handed him over to a witch, who was offered the illusion of happiness and freedom again and again, but always it came with chains. Who always feared becoming Empty, who was almost made into a doll, a puppet, a hollow shell for a hag's entertainment, something to put on display like a grisly trophy, to puppet the strings like a marionette. Thinking about a goddess of Love who cradled this wounded soul in her arms, cut him free and sang him songs, made him the beloved king of a fairytale--
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nano day twenty-six
words today: 2699
words total: 70717
and im DONE!!! i finished!!! it took. seventy thousand words but for the future is DONE!!! and nearly 15k longer than thanks to them lol. god knows how long watching and dreaming will be. wouldnt it be funny if its like. 10k words. imagine how much of a letdown that would be.
but thats for later! right now im DONE and free and its. wild. like. yall the thing about working on one project almost daily since june of 2022 is that it becomes literally your entire life. you start to just be like, yeah, owl house daemon au, ill always be writing that. but then you get closer and closer to the end. and its like. oh. oh no this isnt a forever thing. this thing has an ending. and i can see the ending. and im going to finish it.
WILD. IS WHAT IM SAYING.
this will be my last nano post! my nano project was ftf and i'm so happy to not write 1.6k words a day <3 it was fun for a month but not forever. i'll probably take a short break to write some fionna and cake daemon au stuff before i start to tackle watching and dreaming.
wild stuff, man. had a blast writing this.
my favorite part of what i wrote today:
Grr-click-growl wilts even more, and still pressed to the ground creeps closer to him, c’mere you and when did he start learning owl sounds? Why did he start learning own sounds? Why is there some part of him that wants to listen—
“You wouldn’t come with me!” They jab a finger her direction and Grr-click-growl stops, eyes wide. “Nobody will! You just—fib, and say oh yeah we’re friends but I do everything ‘n you do nothing and I’m tired of it! Of you! Of King!”
Rrr-grr-whistle—
“Don’t call me that!” He could grab for stardust to blast at her but all the stardust is hers ‘n it burns to touch like home home home and no he can’t can’t ever gotta get out leave free this is a trap all just one big trap and why isn’t she running away why didn’t King run away. The trap was bright-gold. The trap was stardust. This is stardust too. Just another trap.
He needs to tear it apart.
The owl pauses. He can read the sorrow in her gaze and her big wide eyes, dark like space but nothing at all like space ‘cause the light is right-there and warm and not so far like his siblings.
What if you stay, says some part of him.
I get trapped, he reminds that part, ‘member?
But what if this time is different.
He laughs. Even that wanting part of him laughs.
‘cause he knows nothing ever changes. Time and time again. Different shapes but all the same in the end.
They just wanna trap ‘n use him.
And he’s had enough of fibbers.
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