#lured-into-wonderland

[magicalheirponsol]

Continued from: [x] @lured-into-wonderland

[✧･ﾟ *♚*･ﾟ✧ ]

Ponsol was quite pleased to see that Nunnally enjoyed the bouquet of flowers that he’d prepared for her. The custom of gifting something a month after valentine’s day was simply a custom that his mother had taught him and his brother from early on and it was something that continued into his adult years. Even if it was a custom that most Euro-centric people weren’t aware of, he would still continue the custom. Who didn’t enjoy surprise gifts, after all?

      ❝Excellent, we can decide on a time in the future. I’m sure you’ll enjoy the sight.❞

While he mostly didn’t care for others apart from how useful they could be for networking purposes, he’d always had a great care for plants. If one were to ask him if he thought his plants or humanity was more important, he’d easily answer with his plants. They were his companions and his confidants. They respond well to his care and they gave him a sense of fulfillment to see that they were growing so well under his care. Well, it wasn’t as though he alone tended to them all. He did hire specialists to help him manage all the plants in the greenhouse.

Still, he was the one who planted the seeds, designed their care routine, and also decide where to plant everything to fit his aesthetic vision. On the topic of bringing her painting supplies or drawing his flowers, he nods in response. He too has taken the time to make art of his flowers, so he wouldn’t be surprised if she were to be struck with inspiration upon gazing upon them and wish to draw them for herself. He had a green thumb, he was intelligent, he was charismatic, of good lineage, handsome, artistic, and so much more. Truly, he was that grand of a specimen if he could say so himself.

(Well there was one person who did exceed him in certain aspects, but he wouldn’t dwell on that for long.)

      ❝I do enjoy many flowers, but I do have a strong preference for Jasmines. I also like the cute flowers that bloom from the common spider plant. That one, I raise in my home. Her name is Matilda.❞

It was very rare for anyone to come to ‘meet’ Matilda as Ponsol was quite protective of that plant in particular. Even his elder brother was usually met with a stare of scrutiny if he wished to see the plant.

      ❝Oh? I’m honored by the invitation, I would very much enjoy to see what you’ve created to show in an art exhibition. I do dabble in some art myself.❞

Charity events were also a good way to make more connections with other people, so he would be remiss to miss out on such a chance. Seeing her style of art was also an interesting way of trying to understand her better. Did she have a more simplistic style? Complex? Did she make art more with feeling, or did she prioritize mastery of craft? Perhaps she was abstract? There was much one could extrapolate from how they go about making art.

[fangsofdestruction]

Continued from: ( ☾ )   || @lured-into-wonderland Verse: Human Modern

Seth arrived at the café as he would on the days he had some free time and wanted to be away from his work. He settles down at the table he normally sat at, intent to fish out a book for him to casually read in peace when he hears a voice of a young woman speaking to him. Golden eyes glance up to a young woman.

At first, he’s a bit confused, but he notes that she looked vaguely familiar. The woman takes a seat at the table without waiting to listen to his answer, and he mentally muses that an answer may not have mattered to her anyways. She was bold, he’d give her that. At the joke (he assumes it to be one) that they should leave small treats for the other from time to time, he finally recalls who she was.

A month prior she had given him an extra treat for the promotion they were doing at the café. To return the favor, he’d assed the owner of the shop to return the favor a month later. He does recall that today was the exact month after Valentine’s day, so it must be correct.

He may have recalled seeing her a few times in the café, but he could sometimes be slow to recognizing people that he didn’t know very well on a personal basis. As a CEO, the number of people he meets on even a weekly basis would astound a regular person, so it sometimes took him a moment to connect the face to the acquaintance.

The man didn’t feel the need to answer a few of her questions, such as how he knew she’d be coming here—he didn’t, he just knew that she comes around sometimes. It was only a matter of time. Did he also like this place? If he didn’t, he wouldn’t visit somewhat frequently when he had the time. The sketch of him in her notebook was impressive to say the least, especially given that it was done by memory. He nods his head at her question that she did well with the sketch.

With the way she only gave a first name, he would do the same. He may be a CEO, but it wasn’t as though he was a celebrity personality, so many common folk didn’t know who he was. He did try to keep as low profile as he could, after all. “My name is Seth.”

[astarab1aze]

starter / @lured-into-wonderland

"We've gotta stop bumpin' int' each other like 'is, princess," Loux all but sang, swinging around to face Nunnaly properly, a placid grin easing across his face. She looked nice today, dolled up in elegant fabrics that settled pleasingly along the contours of her body - even the quickest of glances had been enough, and though his eyes were hidden beneath the fringes of his hair, he looked deeply into hers. Amping up some level of charm, reaching forward to pluck a stray lock of blonde from her cheek and casually, carefully closing the distance between them.

He'd just been on his way to a meeting, but he could spare a few moments with her; Besides, sometimes it paid to be fashionably late - nightfolk did so love their theatrics.

"Wha'cha doin' righ' now, mm?" he said, tilting his head with interest. "Don' think I've e'er seen ya out an' 'bout at night b'fore."

Fingertips hover over the small of her back - harmless, and making no contact, town between urging a friendly, even sweet embrace and retreating altogether. She must've been on her way to a party or some such social event, or maybe she was escaping as much. Either way, for the moment, he had her attention, and she his.

"Wanna cause some trouble?"

[sanctified-sanctuary]

⋆♱⋅⟡⋅♱⋆ @lured-into-wonderland ⋆♱⋅⟡⋅♱⋆ 〝Are you always this straightforward with strangers ?〞 for Cassian {Nunnally 🙴 Cassian}

Cassian regards her with a bemused look, shoulder leaning against the bookcase shelving with an open book in one hand lazily cast aside. Strangers… Does she not recognize him? It has been some time since they last crossed paths but Nunnally hardly seems the type to forget a familiar face.

There's only one way to find out he supposes, 〝I’m always this straightforward in general. Though would you have preferred I not offer any assistance?〞

Cassian had spotted Nunnally after he arrived to the library, a large history and non-fiction focused resource catalogue curtesy of the local university he 〝attended〞 on occasion. He found their considerable selection one of the more interesting of the many places he’s been, though he didn’t anticipate seeing Nun here considering she was rather sheltered last he knew.

Perhaps it was the sheer size of the university and it’s prestigious reputation that allowed her family to approve of this, or maybe Nunnally had come to be in his selfsame situation after all this time.

The reason he came to be speaking with her now a matter of vertical impairment. It seemed a book on one of the upper shelves had caught her interest but there were no step stools or ladders in the immediate vicinity. He watched her from afar for a bit attempting to jump, climb, and knock the shelves before deciding to put his almost unnatural stature to good use.

With nearly a foot difference between the two, him standing at 6’7 without his wings, he grasped the book easily and that was now the one open at his side. Flipping through the pages, there didn’t seem to be anything he would note of importance, 〝what is it about this particular novel that had you nearly scaling the shelves to reach it?〞

Shifting bronze eyes hidden behind gold aviator glasses enchanted to disguise them as a deep warm brown look between the pages and Nunnally. 〝The Nunnally I know had little care for historical affairs.〞

[phoenix-flamed]

She was adamant. It could have not been that different than riding a horse. Well, chocobos looked like huge birds to her, and – if she was completely honest with herself – they made her anxious. Perhaps also (slightly) scared…? But if she was to marry Elwin Rosfield, she should learn. Preferably, Nunnally would try to ride Elwin’s own chocobo (or get her own one), but she wouldn’t try it without his permission. Out of courtesy. But she demanded to be introduced to a one with a similar temperament. She was advised against it; suggested to try a gentler one, but she was not the one to listen. She was the Emperor’s daughter. And the sister of the future Emperor. She could be cold, demanding, entitled. When…that animal was brought in front of her, she was not so confident anymore. But the princess didn’t find a way to withdraw. She sent all the servants away. She wanted to be alone at the paddock in case something went wrong. Little did she know that she was actually observed.

She approached the chocobo, trying to speak gently to it, as if she was talking to her mare. But the animal obviously didn’t like her. She tried again, gently; Nunnally thought she’d succeed but…THUMP…she landed on the ground.

“Easy…” – she approached the animal again, but more irritated…another attempt and…THUMP…she was on the ground again. And then one more time. And one more. She was on the verge on tears… And then she realized she was being watched. All the time...? Ewlin Rosfield. He probably had quite fun watching her: --

“How…how long have you been standing…there…?” – she really wanted to sound haughtily, but the question ended rather miserable.

“You should have made your presence known earlier.” – it was better, but still far from what she would consider her proper behavior.

(because it stuck in my head)

It wasn't that Elwin had intended to spy on her, even if that was technically what he had been doing. When the stablehands had informed him of what was going on, their concern was not that Nunnally was seeking to ride a chocobo -- in fact, any number of them would have gladly taught her the ropes themselves, had the young woman not dismissed them for the time being. No, their fears revolved around the fact that she had chosen, of all the birds in the stables, one of the more particular of the royal birds, whose temperament was second only to Elwin's notoriously haughty mount.

When the young heir to the throne arrived on the scene of the enclosure, the princess from Sanbreque was already on the ground. He gasped, and it took every ounce of restraint within him not to run to her side -- but something held him back, told him to wait.

Give her a chance, it urged. And so he did, though he watched like a hawk to intervene should the creature resort to true aggression against her.

With each failed attempt at gaining the bird's favor, Elwin couldn't help feeling more and more charmed by the princess. Her determination, a stubbornness not to give up... It captivated him to such an extent that after a point, his attention had shifted from the chocobo and onto the woman instead. She was beautiful -- not just in terms of appearance, but most importantly of all, in personality. That same fire within her heart from their first chance encounter was still just as present, and it ignited a warm, gentle flame deep within his own breast.

He almost didn't hear her call out to him the first time, so absorbed was he in his thoughts.

The future Archduke's lips upturned into a kind smile. There was no laughter or condescension from him -- in fact, there was no hint of mockery to be found in his expression at all. "Forgive me -- I didn't wish to disrupt your concentration," the man finally called back to her, before hoisting himself up and over the fencing of the paddock. As soon as his boots made contact with the dirt, he was on his way over to the two other occupants. A gloved hand slowly raised to rest on the side of the bird's head, stroking back along her neck. "Easy, girl. Easy..." He soothed gently, before patting the feathered creature in further reassurance. "Worry not, my friend -- dear Nunnally here meant no harm. Now, let us start again, hm?"

Elwin's attention shifted towards Nunnally, gaze softening all the more. "Hold your hand out to her, as if you are offering her greens, and allow her time to sniff you. Patience, calmness, and respect are the key with her -- she's one of the most esteemed of all of House Rosfield's royal chocobos, and she is both quite aware and quite proud of her pedigree."

The explanation was followed by a fond little laugh, and a tilt of his head towards the elegant white chocobo. "Should she give her approval, pet her here, along her neck. It's her favorite spot. And if that isn't enough, praising her for her plumage's beauty won't hurt."

[voraxiia]

@lured-into-wonderland replied to your post “ Miya Hana has appeared ... ” :

// Nun would cuddle...perhaps put her head on his shoulders...and then give him a small kiss on his cheek.

​ㅤㅤㅤarms wrap around Nunnally the moment she does the same , before he tightens his hold in an affectionate squeeze . eyelids flutter closed as she leans in , pressing her lips to his cheek , and a small , pleased laugh escapes him at the lovely gesture .

ㅤㅤㅤ❝ㅤwhatever have i done to deserve your blessing , my beautiful princess ?ㅤ❞ㅤ

[magicalheirponsol]

@lured-into-wonderland replied to this post [x] : // Nunnally & red camellia taken from her hair & Ponsol & (human au)

((I opted to place this on the dash to reply to it so as to make it easier to trace where this came from as Ponsol isn’t on this blog. As with Ravein’s please do as you please with this ^^ Thanks for sending in a request for him though he’s not a super active muse of mine~ Whichever verse for her you sent over is up to you if you wanna continue this or consider it canon 8) ))

-

Ponsol was sitting on a park bench, going over his itinerary for the day. He was a busy man, and this park was a lovely place- quiet and peaceful. The air was nice and in the spring time, the flowers bloomed beautifully, all thanks to the landscapist who is hired to make it look nice.

Admittedly, the landscapist had an excellent sense for aesthetics. That’s what made this location a place he often liked to relax at. Not all too often, else people will soon start ambushing him here for the sake of networking.

A real pain in the ass it is.

As he’s organizing his schedule on his tablet, he notices someone approaching him. Glancing up, he notices Nunnally. Being well versed with people, he was sure that he may have recognized her from somewhere.

She wasn’t someone he remembers meeting in person, so it was more than likely she was someone that he may have read information on if he found her face to be familiar. Perhaps she was a popular person, or she had relations to someone powerful.

Perhaps someone in her family was into politics? Was it the government? He was sure it would come to him later. When she approached him, she plucked a red Camellia flower from her hair and held it out for him.

Being as well-versed with flowers as he was, he knew that red camellias had the meaning of passionate and romantic love. Golden eyes staring into hers, he flashes a smile to her.

On the off chance that she was a person of interest, it would behoove him to not burn any bridges too soon. Networking was important for someone who had grand aspirations to be big in the future.

He accepts the flower, “if you’re giving me this flower while knowing what it means, I must say that’s a bold declaration.” He sniffs the bloom, relishing in the scent of the flower, though faint as it was a flower that has been plucked.

“I cannot say that I return the notion, but I am willing to offer my company to you as a way to start a budding friendship instead if you would be open to that.”

[kingscyrus]

❛  this day feels like it's never gonna end.  ❜ for the dark verse of fantasy, if OK

 ―  𝑹𝑨𝑵𝑫𝑶𝑴 𝑫𝑰𝑨𝑳𝑶𝑮𝑼𝑬 𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺 𝑷𝑻. 𝑰.

Cyrus's mischievous smile curled along his lips as he spoke. "Oh, but my dear, the day has only just begun. And trust me, the darkness that awaits as night falls will make this day seem like a mere prelude to the horrors that await. Embrace the endless night, for it is where my power thrives." He held his hostage, a beautiful woman with alabaster skin, by cupping her chin with the tip of his thumb and pointer finger. His rough fingers felt cool to the touch, matching the region's mood. He wondered how long such beautiful skin would continue to glow before the darkness of the kingdom nullified it - weeks, months, or years? The King then raised a thick brow and asked, "You will join me for the hearings of my people... won't you?"

[sakamaki--perfect]

ʜɪꜱ 𝙼ᴀᴊᴇꜱᴛy ᴛʜᴇ Kɪɴɢ

A moodboard requested by @lured-into-wonderland : Karlheinz through Reiji's eyes

‘ᴛʜᴇ ɪᴍᴍᴏʀᴛᴀʟ ᴋɪɴɢ’ ᴛʜᴇy ꜱᴀɪᴅ. ʀᴜʟɪɴɢ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴡᴏ ʀᴇᴀʟᴍꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇᴅᴇɴ. ʜᴀᴠɪɴɢ ʟɪᴠᴇꜱ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴩᴀʟᴍ ᴏꜰ ʜɪꜱ ʜᴀɴᴅ.

‘ꜰᴀᴛʜᴇʀ’, ɪ ꜱᴀɪᴅ. ʙᴜᴛ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ʀᴇᴀʟʟy ꜰᴇʟᴛ ᴄʟᴏꜱᴇ ᴛᴏ ʜɪᴍ ɪɴ ꜱᴜᴄʜ ᴡᴀy. ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴀ ᴋɪɴɢ. ᴀ ʀᴇꜱᴩᴇᴄᴛꜰᴜʟ, ᴀᴅᴍɪʀᴀʙʟᴇ, ꜰᴇᴀʀꜰᴜʟ ᴋɪɴɢ.

[chaoscrawls]

@lured-into-wonderland - - Liked for a stater with Hastur

Green is creeping into the garden as spring slowly begins its approach. The small buds already beginning to appear on branches, while blades of grass grow more vibrant with each passing day. It was no wonder that the god, who was unfamiliar with the way the mortal world moved was enamoured by it.

He slowly walks along the hedgerow, allowing the tips of his fingers to bush against the sharp branches and fluttering leaves. Gold eyes glimmer with delight as he takes in each new sight. It’s only when they hear the soft sound of footsteps do they look up.

Out of instinct, he ducks behind the nearest bush hoping that it’s dense enough to hide him. When Hastur peers out from his hiding spot he finds himself a short distance away from a woman. Once again feeling of longing calls to him beckoning him to to leave and speak to her. Just for a short moment.

“Ah, you seem to…have something in your hair there.” He calls out, watching as her hand moves to find what he’s talking about. “No no..to the left…No, a little further back. Yes! There!”

[astarab1aze]

starter / @lured-into-wonderland

It's her.

He noticed right away, familiar perfume and devilish scent cutting through the dull-but-busy atmosphere, turning his head around to catch the blonde shuffling by. On impulse, he followed after down the street, removing himself from his post at the mouth of an alley and hurrying to catch up. There wasn't much he had to say to her, but he was interested, oddly fascinated and entirely indifferent to the finer details; He knew well enough already that she was out of place everywhere she want, standing out in ways her peers didn't respect - or so he assumed. There was a feeling he got, a hunch, and maybe he couldn't pinpoint what it was exactly to a tee, but it was something, wasn't it?

That was a good enough excuse for him to hook his fingers around her elbow and stop her with a smile and a glint in his eye. He didn't much care how she responded in kind, too easy, too dogged, and too tolerant of mishaps, but his grasp had been gentle - never more than a careful snag. There'd been plenty to fear from him, but nothing he'd ever turn onto her. She really didn't need to look at him the way she did, if it was fear she felt and not anger. A lot of assumptions, but who could blame him? He was usually right.

"Ne, ne, ma cheri, been a while!" he gekkered playfully, warmly even, letting go of her arm and holding his hands up in surrender. No doubt, his behavior now was quite different from the night they met...but that only made it more interesting for him - to see how she'd react. And he talks, to fill the space, talking and talking to grab and keep her attention a bit more persistently. "Ya look a lil different in...wha'e'er yer wearin', almost didn't reco'nize ya. Yanno, masks an' all. I say ya look better in 'is 'an ya do all 'at stuffy elite whozit, wha'zit nonsense any'ow."

[sanctified-sanctuary]

⋆♱⋅⟡⋅♱⋆ @lured-into-wonderland ⋆♱⋅⟡⋅♱⋆ 〝You look like you've got something to say.〞 (Liam) {Nunnally 🙴 Jekyll}

 The demon stands in the center of the room, gazing at his summoner expectantly. She seems to be of some class, the space he's in now fairly lavish definitely indicative of old money in his experience.

〝Well? Don't keep a hound waiting love, what can I do for you?〞

 Being summoned certainly wasn't on his agenda today but Jekyll can't complain either, it's been some time since he's performed his services for anyone besides Hunter. Besides, his current master so-to-speak was easy on the eyes and who was he to turn away a young woman in need?

 Well at least he assumes she is, why else summon a hellhound? Surely it wouldn't be for sexual favors, though that's happened before why not summon an incubus or succubus they're a dime a dozen really, and he's no infernal prince able to grant eternal youth or wisdom or riches. Hounds specialize in the dirty work side of contracts, and when he hears the call of a noble lady he can't help but think she must be in dire straights.

 While he's no prince or incubus he isn't ugly either, quite the opposite. Standing before Nunnally is a man around 6'2", human enough if not for the tall sharp animalistic ears atop his head and large dark tail swaying behind him, both of which seem to emit a blackened smoke with ashes as they go further from his person. In fact, all of him seems to emit this smoke and ash mixture and it was what he apparated out of upon her completion of the ritual.

 Focused on her alone are blazing bright yellow eyes and darkened sclera, pupil's razor thin. 〝You look like you've got something to say.〞

[enypneon]

℻ @lured-into-wonderland ••• (*setting prompts - accepting!)

⊵ 001. an empty playground with squeaky swings.

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬' 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 of anyone sitting on them, pushed by merely a dry breeze. thyme shifts in their position to muster nunnally with an inquisitive gaze, hesitant about whether their sudden change of location was her doing on a trap designed specifically for them by a third party. » that is unusual. an empty playground at this time of day. «

whatever is lurking here does not seem to be in any rush to present itself, perhaps it is on the two of them to find out what purpose they have here.

thyme walks up to the plastic seats, reaching down to sit on one of them, though they doubt this is the key to their dilemma. » wouldn't it be fun if we were in a kind of parallel universe? we might be able to scare the mortals from here. « the edge of thyme's dark gown gently brushes up the sand under their feet, toes dipping into the coolness as they bring some controlled movement to the swing.

[voraxiia]

@lured-into-wonderland replied to your post “ Fuyumi has appeared ... ” :

// Hmmm...tough choice; I guess she'd pet him first playfully and then give him a small smooch. Thinking about something else though.

​ㅤㅤㅤa brow raised at the hesitation before she takes her pick , otherwise unfazed when she reaches up to give him a pat on the head ... until she leans in to give him a kiss , and his other brow raises too . for a moment it’s as if he’s just rooted to the spot , letting it register into his mind what just happened .

​ㅤㅤㅤshe really does just follow her whimsies , doesn’t she ? what else could she be thinking ...

[dasmondkuss]

It was a lovely day. The sun was shining and the balcony in their apartment was so inviting. Alois was out working, and Nunnally and Dominicus were alone at home. Ms. Voigt looked especially beautiful that early afternoon. Her hair was falling lose on her shoulders and on her back; still a bit wet, but she didn’t feel like drying it other than simply letting the sun and the wind do the work. She was wearing the flowery dress, perhaps a bit too transparent, but nothing she wouldn’t wear outside. She was not shy of how beautiful she was (at least not anymore).

Nunnally was holding a glass of wine in her hand as she entered that balcony and made herself comfortable on the chair. Close to the one occupied by Dominicus. It was only the two of them in the house. She observed the man from above the half empty glass. She couldn’t decide how she really felt about him. Did she like him? She definitely didn’t trust him, although she was aware he was important for Alois (though she didn’t like that too much either).

“Some young women are truly pathetic…” – she started the conversation in a light casual tone; but that was just a disguise. She was well aware of what she was doing and where this conversation would end (or at least she hoped it would end there) – “…they tend to impose themselves on married men…hoping they would leave their wives for them…”

“…while in reality they are nothing more than unimportant toys…easy to discard when not needed or becoming boring…” – was it enough for Dominicus to understand who she was talking about. To tell him clearly what the only truth of this house was going to be? Nunnally was smiling with the fake intention to keep the atmosphere light. She waved her hand in front of her face as if to reassure Dominicus there was no need to pretend or be worried about this conversation: --

“Oh, don’t bother to deny…”

“I know about it…and it’s not that I really care.” – she promised not to talk about that person with Alois. But she didn’t promise she’d not talk at all. Nunnally took another sip of her wine.

“…it’s funny…some things never change…some women never learn…”

@lured-into-wonderland

Earlier that day, Dominicus and Alois had breakfast on the balcony while discussing the next magazine's design. Since it coincided with Women's Day, they had to be careful about colors, messages, and the articles in general, especially those that talked about women either as perpetrators or as victims. Alois had to leave first. He trusted Dominicus to make the last editions; he had been reading de Beauvoir and Kahlo, complete opposites and different backgrounds, but essential women who are brought to mind in this movement. Or so Dominicus' sister said.

It was a beautiful day, sunny and breezy. Dominicus chose to stay on the balcony, playing with the Magazine's cover design, and a palette of purple and green colors was next to his Mac. Little did he know that Alois' wife would come to sit next to him. He didn't mind Nunnally, but Nunnally did mind him. It wasn't a secret, so her presence wouldn't route anywhere good. However, she seemed in a good mood. She was almost as bright as the sun reflecting on the floor's light gray porcelain; she was also drinking her and Alois' favorite wine. Would she still like it as much if she learned that it's produced by the Bianchi family? Dominicus would keep the fact to himself.

Dominicus wished she could also keep her comment to herself, but it was there. She dropped it with the sweetest voice, yet the scorn was present. He sighed, closing the laptop to pay full attention to the stupidity she was saying. He placed his ankle on top of his knee and relaxed on the chair, but the facial expression was telling so easily how annoyed he was. She reassured him with a gesture not to worry. Dominicus wasn't worried; he was sick of her.

"For someone who doesn't care, you are persistent," Dominicus added. Alois had told everything that happened that night with the letter, and Dominicus had been dodging Nunnally's passive-aggressive comments around him since. However, she sat next to him, brought all this bullshit willingly, and did not walk away. If she wanted a confrontation, Dominicus was the happiest to give it to her.

"You do know she is dead, correct?" Dominicus' heart sank. It was the memory rather than his anger. Nunnally sat there, with a smile and a drink, insulting this woman and calling her pathetic when Julia was the one who saved Alois back then. She brought so much happiness to a man who was defeated by the terrors of war; she got the bravery to not let them be crushed by violence, and she brought the lesson of what they needed to survive. Unfortunately.

Dominicus could understand that Nunnally didn't know the details of Alois and Julia's relationship. Still, he couldn't understand how she could come up with such ridiculous and obnoxious arguments to fill the holes of a story she doesn't partake in. "If anyone is pathetic, it's you."

"You speak like a genuinely ignorant woman." Dominicus threw his Simone de Beauvoir book on the table for Alois's wife to read later. "You won't get any information from me that Alois doesn't consent to share." He looked at her, straight into her eyes. He was unyielding in his resolve. "But you do know that we were in a warzone; that information was evident when the applications were sent. You talk as if Alois had met Julia at some lowly bar. Have you ever, in your life, at least watched a documentary about what war is? What happens there? Did you pay attention in history class?"

"Idiot." Dominicus laced his fingers and cracked his knuckles. "And you're well aware that not Alois, Julia, or even you knew that your silly wedding in Las Vegas was a real marriage." Dominicus scoffed. He could barely believe he had to tell her all of this.

"Not all women, but some. Like you. They love to create fantasies, lies, and bullshit to keep believing they're eternal victims. You're feeding into the idea that every woman is against each other and that the ultimate trophy is a man."

"Some women never learn. Like you. Perhaps you should start learning not about women but about yourself and how disgusting your self-esteem is. You're blind to the fact this house is yours, that Alois loves you, that he doesn't want to divorce you anymore, and it's because he cares and wants a family and a future with you and not because of the request you made when you met again."

"Learn about yourself so you can see how selfish you are by going behind his back to find out something he's too hurt to talk about. You're not only disrespecting him, but you cannot trust him. You're imposing yourself because you're so afraid of being discarded when it's clear it isn't happening."

Dominicus had nothing else to add. He had been harsh and straightforward, and his words had been more bitter than the whisky he sipped on, but he had zero regrets. She deserved every single word he declared. Besides, someone should stop sugarcoating her reality, even when he had all the reasons to believe that this glaze was put on her eyes with her own hands.

Ultimately, he gifted her with a smile. There was nothing to be worried about in this conversation, right?

[strywoven]

@lured-into-wonderland has requested a story : "what remains of you after the curtain falls, i wonder."; she tilts her head watching him from semi-closed eyes. She shouldn't have said that, but it's too late to regret.

𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒅.

Not often do patrons of Lux decide to engage the half-demon / half-angel in conversation ( fear , claudius knows , it is fear that keeps them at wide berth , makes them nervous to even look him in the eye most nights ) .  So when it happens , he is rightly confused , entirely gobsmacked by the BRAZEN APPROACH .  How she so easily sits at his table as if it were the most commonplace thing to do , speaking to him and picking his brain for its insights like they have done so many times afore.  Even in the dim of the lounge , his contempt is clear , fair featured marked with d i s p l e a s u r e as he regards the other with a narrow-eyed scrutiny ( mind yourself , he chastises , there’s no need to get temperamental over a woman who just wants to talk ) .

Even the most innocuous of people , Claudius has found , tend to have the most dangerous of secrets.  He’s no reason to t r u s t her , let alone give her an ounce of his honesty and attention.  And yet— Straightening in his chair , he takes another swallow from his glass , nodding at her remark with a grunt of acknowledgment.  ❝ I suppose I should take that to insinuate that I’m PERFORMING , to some degree ? ❞  Though he tries to remain polite , to be conversational , his tone is clipped and curt ( he did not appreciate her comment in the least ) .  His gaze wanders across the floor of Lux , falling from one table of guests and workers to another ; it is , by all accounts , a g l a m o r o u s place , a ritzy façade to turn one’s attention away from what keeps it all alive.

  ❝ The curtain never falls , ❞ Claudius tells her at length , silvery-blue gaze returning to the other.  It is both an answer and a non-answer ; the way he dances around giving a reply at all is telling on its own.  ❝ If it does … Then , I think , there might be nothing left. ❞  He gestures towards her with his glass , ❝ And what of you , Miss … ? ❞  Leaves the question open , in case she might think to give a name to the face of the woman who decidedly i n t r u d e d on his evening.