#someday I shall have them all mark my words

[ai-higurashi]

My side of the trade with @zukoromantic !!! Had it finished forever ago but never actually posted it.

You can check mii's wonderful Numeri/Chongi-re fic here!!

[sirenjose]

Characters' Wishing Stars

(Updated to include every character's wish, then added more thoughts about more of the other wishes. Thoughts on Norton's/Fool's Gold's and Jose's are at the end)

Part 1 - Wishing Stars

Survivors

Lucky: I wish for good fortune for everyone! May the lucky star bless all!

Emily: May all be endowed with wellness and joy. May sickness be but a distant shadow in this world.

Freddy: I've made some mistakes, Martha, but I've never regretted loving you.

Kreacher: Set adrift toward the yonder, and let everyone know: Kreacher's ambitions shall be made manifest! Mark my words!

Emma: Father, Mother, are you well? Do you, too, gaze up at the stars this evening?

Servais: I wish to one day stand on the grandest stage of magic! That day will surely come.

Kurt: To live in this beautiful world is a blessing, and in the future, I hope to pursue adventures in higher, farther, and grander realms!

Naib: Will this lantern reach the rivers of my homeland? If so, I wish for it to tell her I'm doing well.

Martha: May each soul find sanctuary, never to lose oneself, never to drift astray.

Tracy: Changing the world might be too lofty an ideal, but I at least want to invent things that bring happiness to more people!

William: Someday, I will be acknowledged! Victory is the domain of the brave-those who defy adversity!

Helena: The night sky must be beautiful, just as it is in my imagination. If possible, I'd like to see this wonderful world with my own eyes someday.

Fiona: Mother, do you see? I've taken another step closer to the truth of this world.

Vera: Vera, I wish you well. It was all worth it.

Kevin: They say the departed become stars.. Even now, I still remain shamefully illuminated by your light.

Margaretha: In the not-too-distant future, there will surely be a stage as brilliant as this starry sky meant solely for me. This is my wish.

Eli: Stars, rivers, flowers. This is a beautiful dream I never anticipated, so please let this dream last a little longer.

Aesop: May this lantern find tranquil shores, as may I.

Norton: I want to live a better life.

Patricia: May fate judge all wrongdoing.

Murro: Well-being to all! I hope someone, somewhere, will remember Murro.

Mike: I wish to bring joy to more people and help everyone forget their troubles!

Jose: May all my loved ones embark on their own journeys, and may lighthouses guide them to safe harbors.

Demi: Brother, are you well? Are you admiring this starry sky too?

Victor: To whoever sees my letter and lantern, know that Victor wishes you eternal happiness.

Andrew: Though I cannot gaze directly upon the sun, this eve, I've beheld the most resplendent darkness. I am grateful for this night and for those who accompany me.

Luca: Those who march toward science and truth will not regret it. One day, I will prove everything.

Melly: What a beautiful night. I hope all those little lives be cherished, as they rest beneath the grass and leaves.

Edgar: The shifting starry sky hides endless beauty and mystery, and we mortals, mere chroniclers of this splendor, stand and gaze, as do I.

Ganji: I wish the people of my hometown healthy and prosperous. At least, tonight, I'm looking at the same sky as you.

Annie: May every child grow in peace and happiness. May every little toy cradle your grandest dreams.

Emil: I often forget the past, but from now on, every day shall brim with bliss. I wish that everyone could remember only happiness.

Ada: I wish for Emil's good health. May we all cherish the present and the love of others.

Orpheus: Fate pens the finest tales, so I hope everyone's story holds fewer regrets, twists, and at least, more favorable conclusions.

Memory: The stars are exceptionally beautiful tonight! I also wish to be a kind, loving person who brings happiness to everyone.

Weeping Clown: One day, when the audience watches Joker, they, too, will wear a genuine, satisfied smile.

Professor: I don't have any wishes, save for this lantern to journey far, far away.

Qi: May old companions fare well.

Frederick: The night always brings to mind fragments of the past and chaotic whispers, yet from such whispers, countless great inspirations arise.

Alice: Alice, follow the path you believe to be true, for earnest living begets serendipity.

Charles: Stars, please tell me - should I hold on a little longer?

Lily: I shall alter all through sheer endeavor, Simon.

Matthias: Will the moonlight shine on me… on Matthias?

Florian: The bright yet warmthless stars evoke memories of childhood Christmases.

Evelyn: Are you still searching for your destination.

Hunters

Leo: Lisa, may you grow up healthy and safe.

Joker: Come on! I wish for everyone to share in the madness and mirth with me!

Jack: Should I wish for clarity, or pray to forever bask in this enchanting night…

Bane: May no creature suffer harm. May the heart of humanity awaken to conscience.

Violetta: Oh, beautiful stars… I wish everyone well! I hope… I hope everyone can be loved.

Michiko: Love is bittersweet, and time ticks on without a care. Gazing at the moon always brings to mind those no longer with us.

Hastur: (There is no writing on the wishing star, but it shows signs of having been soaked in water.)

Wu Chang: May you be well, may the years be kind, and may lovers remain together in love.

Joseph: Does moonlight hold the power to turn back time? If such a thing were true, I'd wish to return to the time when you were still here.

Burke: It's too late for me to start making any wishes. But if everyone else is safe and happy, this old soul can rest easy.

Yidhra: (The wishing star is blank, but a fierce night wind blows upon beholding it.)

Robbie: I want a songbird that can fly to where my parents are and sing to them.

Luchino: Rather than making wishes, I believe humanity ought to strive for advancement through diligence.

Mary: The illusion of opulence has been shattered. Given another beginning, I'd choose to be the master of my destiny.

Bonbon: It's been a pleasure knowing you! Bonbon!

Ann: I'm lucky to have found a purpose in life. I hope everyone's kindness and faith will not be in vain.

Antonio: My violin bow, please play the most exquisite, unbound melodies.

Galatea: Stars above, please grant me more inspiration and opportunities to create beautiful works.

Percy: (The wishing star is unmarked, save for traces of motor oil, resembling a moon perhaps?)

Polun: We want money! Wealth! Fame! Of course, we want our dear father and mother too!

Grace: I wish for no one to be lonely. I wish that you could all be happy. As for me, I can't think of any wishes.

Philippe: If my sister and I could gaze at this starry sky together, my wish would be fulfilled.

Nightmare: Congratulations, you've glimpsed the writings of the "Nightmare" in this wondrous dream!

Keigan: I wish for this world to have more justice and rationality. That should be enough.

Alva: May more forsake the folly of human nature and choose to approach the truth.

Ithaqua: Mother, if possible, I wish to at least dream of those moments in the woods and snow at night.

Sangria: Burn once more, for I still seek to prove my worth.

Fool's Gold: I've already dug my way out of fate's mine. Haven't I?

Ivy: (The paper is scribbled with 2 little girls holding a wishing star lantern together.)

Part 2 - Thoughts

In general, all of them are pretty good and I definitely think helps paint a better picture of each character, who they are deep down, and what their priority/goal is.

Quite a few few of them though are fairly sad, including (to me) Freddy, Naib, Helena, Kevin, Murro, Ganji, Charles, Violetta, Joseph, Burke, Robbie, Philip, Ithaqua, Fool's Gold, and Ivy. I have to say, the ones that made me feel the worst were Kevin and Burke (especially the latter. Can you not make me feel like I wanna cry?).

Freddy's I quite like as I think it tells a lot about him. He admits he's not perfect, he admits even things he did weren't right, but for good or ill he still loves Martha Remington. To me, it's that admission of his mistakes I like the most.

Naib and Ganji both simply wishing to be home, with their families, but because they can't they just wish that their loved ones are happy and sufficiently taken care of. Despite how they may be depicted in their games, they both have a lot of sorrow in their heart and have been through quite the ordeals, all while being far from home and any chance to return is slim or difficult to acquire. Everything they do matters little compared to their longing to return home and move past all this.

Helena's wish I to see the world one day, for obvious reasons, is quite sad considering how she lost her eyesight when she was young. As a result, she can only imagine and dream of seeing the sky. The fact there's little chance she'll regain her sight somehow (unless something happens in the future) is what makes this line hurt the most.

Murro's wish is only for someone to remember him, which honestly is quite the implication of how he feels about himself and how he thinks others' feel about him. He's been through so much, losing his parents, then his ill treatment and abuse while he was kept by Bernard, to the point he simply wanted to get away from people and just be with his partner. It's that feeling he's given up hope, and the idea that this is all he thinks he's capable of hoping for... It's like he already thinks he has no future and nothing much to look forward to.

Wishes of people like Charles, Robbie, Joseph, Philip, Ithaqua, and Ivy are focused on the loss of those close to them, some of which are consumed by the guilt at their role in that loss or inability to prevent their death. Joseph especially has devoted the rest of his life to attempting to revive Claude, and has been incapable of ever having a single moment where he isn't thinking about his twin. It makes me think about what Michiko said regarding the bittersweetness of love, and how time marches on whether or not those we love are left behind. The important question being whether a person is capable of moving forward or will be stuck looking back, which is the whole theme with Orpheus.

Violetta's wish hurts me due to me reading into her line and feeling like she's referring to herself. And the idea that she's wishing there was someone out there who will love her, as her being abandoned by her parents, taken by Max who treated her like an object to attract attention to his freak show and earn him money, but once she no longer did, he disposed of her, leaving Violetta feeling unwanted. Despite what she's been through, she is still a kind and positive person, but even she has moments where she can't help but let slip hints about her true feelings.

Kevin of course has been and still is a very sad boy. He, like Joseph, has his thoughts forever stuck on the loved ones he lost. He is incapable of moving past Angelina's death, further compounded by his guilt regarding Angelina's father and the tribe. He is trapped by his guilt. It's the fact that Kevin refuses to forgive himself, blaming himself for everything that has happened, is why Kevin's wish hurts me so much.

Burke... I don't even know what to say. This was the 1 that I think hurt the most for a bunch of reasons that I don't quite know how to put to words. Netease, please stop trying to make me cry.

As for other wishes that caught my attention:

Mike's simple wish to bring joy to people and help them forget their troubles was curious, as I think it really helps give a better idea about him, considering he's someone I sometimes find tricky to figure out. His deductions depict him as pretty mischievious, especially with things like using rocks or nitrogen in his tricks. But then we get to the tragedy, and all we don't really get any more ... good descriptions from Mike himself as to how he is internally. Except for hints based on how he went to the morgue to confirm who was dead and who was missing. And then with his suspicion of (and disgust for) Margaretha, as well as Joker. His last deduction and backstory really emphasize that his singular goal is essentially revenge. Yet we learn in through the letters that he was unable to do so even when he's given the chance. This is why I at least personally appreciate this little detail about his interest in people's happiness and desire to fix all their problems. It helps put everything else in better perspective.

Vera's was mainly due to how she says it was "all worth it". This seems to confirm how she feels about her actions, despite the sorrow she describes in her 1st letter due to her own actions, and despite the reality of what she did. She continues to reason with herself that, despite the cost, it all worked out in the end. It could show just how broken she's become due to how she grew up due to her father and everyone looking down on her and treating her the way they did. It could show just how hard her heart has become as a result. But it's also possible to read this line as trying to convince herself to not regret. To not dwell on what she's done. To try to tell herself that it's ok, it's ok, it's ok. If this is true, whether or not she actually fully believes this attempt to reason with herself is a separate question.

Margaretha's further confirms the type of person she's in and the life she's interested in. She's still interested in luxury, she's still a bit vain, just like her personality info in-game states. However, what I was focused on was how she talks about having a stage "solely for me". This to me reads as she wants to be able to move forward and survive on her own without having to rely on others, like she did previously with Sergei, or how she's "exploiting" Joker. Which I think is a good development on her part, as I think it shows growth. It's something that may take time, but she's expressing determination to achieve this goal.

Martha was primarily of interest to me as, similar to Violetta, I read it as she was essentially referring to herself. It's a lament over the fact she has no place she sees as "home", and she doesn't even know who she is anymore. She's taken on too many identities, and gone through so much that she isn't sure who is the real her or if even if she does remember if it'll actually feel right to her anymore. She's lost and doesn't know how to find her way back on to the path. Her wish is a warning to others the way I see it, which is imporant considering what we learn happened with her in her game.

Sangria's I find curious as I never really thought about her like that, the idea that she wants to "prove [her] worth". It can make sense considering her backstory and deductions emphasize how badly she was treated by her father and the fact she was viewed as "less than a toy", as well as make sense based on whatever happened between her and the lady to cause Sangria to later ask to "get back on stage". I feel like this wish could potentially help understand some of what happens with her in her game...

Then there's Nightmare. Which to me feels... the strangest and almost out of place of any of the wishes. I'm still not quite sure about the real meaning behind it yet but it does make me think...

On that same tangent, I'll go to Orpheus next. Similarly, his line is quite interesting and will take me some time to really digest. The fact he speaks of wanting to reduce other people's regrets and give them "more favorable conclusions" to me is strange. Some of the stories he writes don't exactly feel like he's trying to give the people it's based on better "conclusions", nor does it feel like he's doing that with the participants of each of his games. Though looking at a different place, what he seems to be doing to Kevin in his 4th letter does feel like he's trying to manipulate Kevin's memories to make him think Angelina isn't dead. The entire truth of the goal of Orpheus' experiments and actions is still something I don't think we fully grasp yet. It's possible more is happening to the participants than we know (especially with how of them, or at least their bodies, are missing, and I still wonder about Yidhra's and Joseph's involvements, considering the Dreamlands or Joseph's photo world could potentially present Orpheus an opportunity to maybe give individuals a happier story if they are trapped there, especially with the memory drugs, but I'm still unsure about so much...).

Norton's wish is such a great but simple enough summary for his character. He's not asking to be rich. He's not asking for gold despite that's what he searched for in Golden Cave. He's not asking for anything in particular. All Norton cares about is having a "better" life. Something more than being trapped in poverty, with a job that could kill him at any time, and especially over time the longer he has it. He wants to not have to worry about starving all the time, or worry if he'll have a place to shelter for the night, or worry about cruel coworkers or employers, any other necessities he needs. We've seen that he isn't asking for anything fancy. He eats simple bread, and spends what little spare money he has on books and knowledge. He just wants enough so he'll never have to worry about going back to that life again.

Which is interesting when considering Fool's Gold's wish: "I've already dug my way out of fate's mine. Haven't I?". This to me sounds like he's trying to convince himself. He's desperately hoping he's finally escaped the mine, which he describes as "fate's" mine. This referencing his "fate" as a miner due to his father also being a miner. The fact he describes it as how he "dug my way out" is a way of showing how he's done everything himself. He was the one who's fought tooth and nail to get out of his situation, who's spent all his blood, sweat, and tears to originally just work hard enough to earn what he can, and then when that didnt work find another way, and when he was trapped in Golden Cave, how he literally dug his way out (which shows how badly he wants to live). "Fate" being a "mine" also has the symbolism of Norton originally seeing his fate as somethin dark, made by someone else who forced him into it, a place with little room to move full of many dangers, surrounded by many people who either treated him badly or only cared for themselves, and the only path forward led further and further down. This was why Norton wants to escape his fate, and why he's been so desperate to do anything he can if it means a way out. He wants a brighter fate, one not trapped underground, but a fate out in the open world where the sky is the limit. Unfortunately though, as we can see from the ending of Fool's Gold's wish, Norton isn't entirely convinced he's completely escaped his fate. Which is curious and I wish I could see the reasoning behind his thoughts. Is it because he's afraid he'll be caught for what he did? Is it because he's afraid he'll have to go back to the mine if he is unable to find any other way of making a living? Is it because of whatever happened while he was trapped in the mind that he's continuously referenced but never explained, that's lead to him being so deathly afraid of the place? Or does it have something to do with his current situation with Orpheus and whatever the order was in his 2nd letter? Considering this is the 2nd time we've seen Norton trying to convince himself but failing to do so completely by the end (the 1st time being in Norton's 2nd letter where he tries to convince himself to go through with the assassination order), I wonder if it's possible these 2 things could be related. Maybe he feels like or is starting to feel like his current situation is not any better than it was before when he was still a miner, or when he was trapped in Golden Cave. Which is curious as that seems to reinforce how we can't be completely sure what Norton will do in the final game, or what the full truth of his relationship with Orpheus, Alice, and the others is. It's also interesting this line comes from Fool's Gold, who also appeared in Norton's backstory trailer, before he causes Golden Cave to collapse. He's holding his head, and seemingly fighting with himself over whether he should do it or not. Hunter Norton seems to be a way of showing Norton's internal dilemma, his war with himself, with how Hunter Norton is likely symbolized in Norton's 2nd letter, and now again here when Norton's trying to convince himself that he's escaped his fate. But unlike the 1st time in the mine when Hunter Norton managed to win out and cause the mine collapse, these other 2 times haven't ended with a certain winner, which could show how Norton's changed or how he may not be willing to do the same thing again. But maybe I'm thinking too hard.

As for Jose, I wish I could understand him better. Despite how his father treated him, despite how he only cared about fame and fortune, despite how he was only ever concerned about looking good for the Queen and everyone he deemed important, Jose still wishes his "loved ones" to stay safe essentially. Who that would be besides his family I'm not sure. We never learn about his mother, and there's really no one else that could be outside of maybe some people he was friends with, though he specifically says "loved ones". We don't know if he was friendly with those on his crew, though we know at least some were of the same type of person as Jose's father based on Jose's deduction 7, while others died either when Jose's father vanished or during deduction 4. We now know he's tied in some way to Sam Bourbon but not the specifics of that relationship (how friendly were they?). Therefore, it's most likely he's referring to his father here. I wish I knew more about Jose's feelings and relationship with his father, considering deduction 7 and 8, as well as other bits don't exactly make Joaquin out to be a good person or see his son as anything but an object. But it's possible it was because Jose's father was the only family he ever had, and he simply wished he could've stopped him from doing what Jose didn't agree with and/or helped change him for the better.

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

A Thousand Words - a Magnus Archives fic

It’s coming, Jon. You know something is; something that itches, that nags, that hides just out of view. Our glorious future is coming.

A Magnus Archives fic. For @spinning-logic . Inspired by this Tumblr post, @therainbowtea. The image wouldn't leave my head.

AO3

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

He always looks toward the camera. I don’t believe he knows he does. At least, it seems unlikely, given how little he is truly aware of himself. But then, what else would one expect? An eye cannot see itself.

I wonder how he’d feel to know I’ve collected these?

Photos from his schooldays. Photos from his grandmother’s house—easily enough obtained, once I tracked down the company which had purchased her home. Photos in university—ah, as wild as he’d ever been , daring to grow his hair out, considering but never getting tattoos because he was too afraid of being seen and judged! Delicious.

Photos as an adult. On the Tube. On the street. Via CCTV. From his ex-girlfriend (what a poor match that was, but he couldn’t know, he does not see himself ). Photos from Martin, who’s taken them on the sly, and thinks no one has access but him. Silly boy. Useful, though, that silliness.

Call me old-fashioned: I’ve printed them all out.

Had I my way, I would spread them across my wall, ordered according to my whim, so I could watch them all day and imagine each and every scenario that led to those looks, those expressions, those raw experiences writ large on his face even as his eyes relay his horror.

Constant horror, feels Jon. I still struggle to believe how perfect he is for this, but I cannot deny his suitability as a vessel.

Looking always at the camera… it can’t have been like that his whole life, can it? It certainly has since the Web marked him, and I can find no photos before the age of eight. Strange, that. Very strange. Meaningful, I’ve no doubt, but as that meaning is hidden from me, there is no use mulling.

Ah: they are ready to bring him his birthday cake. I shall be joining them for that . One can never have too much good cake.

And I will spy on the photos taken, and I will steal them for myself, and I already know: in each and every one, he will be staring, unblinking, toward the camera, unaware and unbidden.

Toward me.

It’s coming, Jon. You know something is; something that itches, that nags, that hides just out of view. Our glorious future is coming.

You won’t like it right away. I know that. I also know you have no idea how beautiful this revelation will be.

You’ll come to love it someday. I can wait. I shall be the pupil, and you shall be my lens, and between us, Jon, we will see it all.

[ristoranteivorykeys]

unpublished fic: part of your world

this snippet is from a fanfic i wrote for a class xD to date, the fic is my longest work i've ever written, at 17500 words. basically, i was exploring core memories of a love i experienced that frankly sucked, and that this fic depicts two love stories: a real life love and an imaginary love story between me and azul. the narrative structure of the fic is heavily inspired by the jollibee commercial called "choice". for those who've watched it, you'll have a good understanding of how the entire fic was structured. rereading this, i'm still really impressed with how i wrote this personally, especially the azul parts. someday, i'll refine this story and mayhaps publish it somewhere. for now, the rest of the fic shall remain hidden, with the memories kept private.for this particular snippet, i explored the idea of what may be the traditions of love for coral sea. and i came up with the idea that their way of expressing a deep form of love is to say, "can you be a part of my world?" and that is what is happening here.

“Outer space, 2,” I said as I held up two fingers to the three male students in front of me. Upon hearing what I said, they did not hesitate to look at the cards that each contain one word laid out on the table in a grid. The boys analyzed each card, and my knee fidgeted as they took their time in looking at each word. Come on, this is an easy hint, I thought to myself impatiently. Please don’t tell me you don’t recognize simple celestial bodies.

Immediately after my thoughts were completed, one of them looked at the others, their finger hovering over a card I had hoped they would pick. They nodded, and the boy flipped the card containing the word ‘Saturn’. Upon seeing the blue illustration on the other side, the boys let out a “Yes!” as they pumped their fists into the air. The same student picked another card, this time containing the word ‘star’. 

“Yes!” I exclaimed along with my team. With a smirk, I turned towards Azul, who sat beside me. “Your turn.”

Azul hummed as he stared at another card that was visible to only the two of us. It contained a colored grid, marking which words belonged to my team, which words belonged to his team, which words were neutral, and the word that would mark the loss of a team if they picked it. I quietly snickered as I looked at the card and at the words in front of us. The cards that Azul had were rather hard to match up, a disadvantage for him. 

“Good luck man,” I told him. “Those words look hard.” 

“Are you saying that to make fun of me,” he asked while glancing at me. I shrugged while giving a clueless hum in reply, mostly because he’s right. 

A long pause followed. My team had already moved back while Azul’s team was looking at the cards and awaiting his hint. As more seconds passed with Azul staying silent, I grabbed the nearby mini hourglass.

“Challenge!” I declared as I flipped it, causing the sand to pour downwards. “You’re taking too long!”

“Alright alright,” Azul spoke up after being silent for a while, hands up in a gesture asking to wait. “Okay, Idia,” his eyes landed on a slouched student wearing a hoodie, “I am trusting you to get this right.” He flashed four fingers up in a dramatic flair, and everyone’s eyes widened upon seeing the number. 

“World, 4.”

My eyes widened. “Four?!” I exclaimed as I looked at the grid then at the cards on the table. “No way!”

Azul chuckled as he aimed a smug smile towards my direction. “You should be aware by now. I don’t intend to lose, my dear.”

“Hmm,” Idia hummed as he gazed at the words along with two other students. “Bruh, you really giving us a hard one.” He punctuated his sentence with an annoyed glare towards Azul.

“Yeah,” one of the students chimed in. “Anything can be counted as world since all the words here are a part of it.”

“Well okay, let’s get the obvious one out.” Idia flipped the card containing ‘map’, which flashed a red illustration on the other side. “Now for the other three…” 

“Hey, ‘tissue’ can be part,” one of the students on my team jokingly said. “It’s made from plants.”

“Oh yeah, how about ‘tissue’,” one of the students on the other team said. I had to stifle a chuckle at that, knowing what position the card with ‘tissue’ has on the grid.

“No no,” Idia said. “Can’t you feel that it’s not gonna be the word? It’s gotta be something else.”

Darn, I thought to myself with disappointment. Of course Idia would be smart enough to figure that out.

“Hm, how about ‘skyscraper’ and ‘sand’,” one other student suggested.

“Yeah, could be,” Idia said. “But also, knowing Azul, it could be ‘restaurant’...” 

Please pick that, I thought in my head, knowing that ‘restaurant’ belonged to my team. 

“Anyway, ‘sand’?” 

“Yeah.” The other team flipped ‘sand’, showing another red illustration, eliciting a pumped fist from them.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Azul grin. 

“Skyscraper?”

“Mmm… It might be something else. I still say it’s ‘tissue’,” the first student said. 

“Nope nope, do not flip that, Fred,” Idia warned, aiming a pointed look towards him. 

“Hey, I mean, tissue’s made from plants,” Fred argued. “It’s definitely part, I’m flipping it.”

“Don’t–”

But before Idia could stop him, Fred flipped the card with ‘tissue’, which flashed an illustration of a shadowed man. The loser card. 

“Oh what?!” He exclaimed.

“Yes!” My team and I rejoiced as we pumped our fists into the air and danced in our spots on victory. Beside me, Azul sighed in dismay, but his reaction was calm compared to Idia’s, who huffed as he walked away with heavy steps and a deep frown.

“Man, it’s just a game,” I said to myself as I watched him walk off, my voice audible only to people near me. 

“Didn’t a certain someone throw down her cards once after losing four times in Sevens,” Azul asked as he glanced at me knowingly.

“Oh. Right.” I sheepishly scratched my neck. 

“Anyway, we have to clean up,” he mentioned as he pointed to the clock on the wall. “It’s almost time.” He clapped his hands loudly, gathering the attention of the rest of the students. “Pack your belongings and start cleaning up! We have 5 minutes to vacate the room.” 

Immediately, I started with the cards from our earlier game, gathering them all to stack up before straightening them and placing them in a plastic bag. 

“I admit that I took a risk with that hint,” Azul spoke up as he fixed the other board games nearby. “I was aware that ‘world’ could mean anything on the board, but I was hoping that they’d get it.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” I said. “Your words were kind of hard to connect.”

“And besides,” he aimed a pointed look at me, “someone challenged me and made me lose my focus.”

I laughed in reply. “Good because now, I can relish in my win.” I punctuated my sentence with the sound of the stack of cards hitting the table to straighten them, before inserting them into a plastic bag that I placed inside the box where it belonged. 

“Hmph, you won’t be saying that next time,” Azul replied as he closed one box and packed it away into his bag. 

By the time the club room was cleaned up, and all our bags were picked up, the school bell rang to signal the end of club hours. We walked together to the direction where all the school dorms were located, and the students moved closer to their friends, chatting about their day, from assignments to shared interests.

“You know,” Azul said as we walked beside each other. “I was thinking of something while we were playing Codenames earlier.” 

“Oh really? What is it?”

“It was about the tale of the Mermaid Princess,” he answered. 

“Oh? Not about the Sea Witch for once?” I asked in amusement. “That’s really new.”

“H-hey! I like the Sea Witch, but I know not to constantly talk about her,” Azul exclaimed in a flustered tone. “Ahem, going back to what I was saying, I was thinking about the Mermaid Princess when I said my hint. She was known for falling in love with her prince to the point that she went to the Sea Witch to implore her help to be with him.”

“Okay.” I nodded, mostly to indicate that I was paying attention. 

“Before that, however, there is this part of the tale that many adore.” 

“Ooh? What is it?”

“When she fell in love with the prince,” he continued, “she had saved him from a sinking ship and brought him to a beach. While waiting for him to wake up, she started singing about her desire to be a part of his world.”

“Mmm, I see.”

“That part of the tale is so loved by the people in my home country that being told that someone wants you to be a part of their world is considered as a confession of love,” he added. 

“Oooh really?” My mouth formed an ‘o’ at his statement. “That’s really cute actually.”

“That’s all,” he said. “I hope you enjoyed that little piece of trivia.”

“... Am I supposed to assume that you would ask for payment in return for kindly giving me some trivia,” I asked half jokingly.

Azul chuckled. “You’re starting to get to know me a little too well. Perhaps I’m being a little careless now.”

“Not my fault you’re always going around and asking people how you can pay them back when they do one thing to help you out and vice versa all in the name of debt,” I said with a shrug. 

“Well I–” He almost argued back but stopped himself, crossing his arms and shaking his head as he did so. “Anyway, since you did bring up the subject of payment…”

A cheeky smile wormed its way onto his face, a smile that slightly unnerved me over what the payment could be. 

“… Answer this question: ‘Was there anyone you ever wished that they were a part of your world?’”

“Oh.” While my feet continued their lax pace, my eyebrows raised up over the sudden question. At the very least, I was thankful that it wasn’t anything more than answering him, but I frowned as I pondered over his words. “Hmm, I never really thought of it.” 

“We aren’t out of the main building yet,” Azul said. “You may take your time.” 

“And you won’t run late to Mostro?” 

“We don’t open until 6 anyway.” He checked the watch on his wrist. “It’s not yet 5:30.” 

“Hmm… was there anyone I ever made a part of my world…” I glanced at the ceiling as I tried to think of an answer. “Well, as a little trivia from my home country, my religion has it that we believe in one God, and we’re taught to make God a part of us.” 

“Ah, you believe in a religion,” he said with a nod. 

“Well, not to an extreme? But well, yeah, I do believe in a religion,” I replied.

“But that does not answer my question.”

“Yeah, well…” I frowned deeper in thought. Have I ever really made someone a part of my– 

Ah. 

A thought entered my head. It was unexpected, not in the way that a light bulb would suddenly turn on but in the way a droplet would land onto a pond and cause a ripple. 

“Well?” Azul’s voice brought me out of my thoughts, and I turned to see an expecting gaze at me.

“… I wouldn’t say there was anyone I would have wished they could be a part of my world,” I finally said slowly. “But I do want to meet someone someday whom I can say I wish that they’d be a part of my world.” 

“Mm.” He nodded in understanding. “I see.”

“How about you, Azul?” I asked, a cheeky tone laced in my voice. “Is there anyone that you wished was a part of your world?”

“I knew you were going to ask,” he said with a small laugh. “But well, just like you, I don’t have anyone I would have wanted to make a part of my world.”

“But do you want to find that special someone,” I asked again, perhaps sounding a little too insistent.

He paused, looking upwards as he appeared to muse on the question. “The thought is quite romantic, I suppose,” he responded. 

“Now look who’s not answering the question this time,” I playfully quipped. “Come on, it’s just a yes or no, what is it?” 

“You’re rather curious,” Azul pointed out with a bemused smile. “Is there a particular reason why you’re asking if I want to find a romantic partner for myself?”

“Hey, that’s just because I said I wanted to find someone someday,” I said a bit defensively. “It’s only fair!”

He cocked an eyebrow at me, eyes behind glasses filled with skepticism that made my heart race nervously. The pause stretched on for a few more seconds before he finally craned his head away from me. “If you say so.” Tension that I didn’t know was building up in my shoulders flew out like air flying out of a deflating balloon in a quiet sigh. What a flimsy excuse, I mentally scolded myself. It was a good thing Azul didn’t press. Because if Azul did press for answers, I wouldn’t know how to tell him that in that instant, I wondered if he had become a part of my world.

[crownmemes]

Politician Sentences, Vol. 2

(Sentences from various sources for politicians and/or muses in political spaces. Adjust phrasing where needed)

"How dare you take my words and mangle them to suit your own purpose!"

"I happen to think that you are by far the ablest man in this government."

"Nobody wins on a sympathy vote."

"Questioning the government isn't a criminal activity, is it?"

"I've always been the power behind the throne."

"Power in itself is not a bad thing; it's how you choose to use it."

"I have far more important things to think about than petty politics."

"As you think you're so clever, perhaps you'd like to suggest your own answer to that question?"

"You could have been great. I had such ambition for you."

"Ah, now you can't expect me to comment on rumours. "

"Nothing lasts forever. Even the longest, most glittering reign must come to an end someday."

"I want to leave my mark on the world."

"There's no such thing as absolute power."

"You can never be absolutely sure of people, can you?"

"You're ambitious and that's good, but I think you're letting your ambition cloud your judgement."

"I shall, of course, give my absolute loyalty to my leader."

"I'm merely responding to the political climate."

"Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely."

"Expose the corruption at the heart of the government, the police, and the press, and you create a vacuum. A space for someone to step in and lead."

"I would expect you to appreciation the importance of a man's reputation and what it costs him when he loses it."

"You are proposing a very radical change. I would like you to tell me why."

"You might think that. I couldn't possibly comment."

"There's more to politics than personal ambition. "

"All the world's a photo opportunity. "

"If that doesn't get you a knighthood, I don't know what will!"

[1stunseeliefaelass]

📚✒️ and I'll write a short excerpt from my OC's diary.

I'll try to do this right I suppose. Here goes nothing. I'll go with Ale and hope you like it.

Key notes before we go in:

*Menahem in my fic is Death's true name, Issac is Strife's, Jael is Fury's(though she doesn't use it Ale does out of preference), and Samson is War's.

*Gras-Atari means Granddaughter in Lepus language, and Atan means son thusly. Ale herself being a Lepus.

*Erik is a Vanir/Jotun hybrid who is Ale's lover, may as well be husband by this time, but Ale's Father is a bit of a shotgun variety.

*Harker is one of Death's many poly partners he'll up with in my fic in time(spoiler alert). Harker himself is a Fae, specifically a Leanan Sidhe. Harker is also the first of the partners Death has and eventually marries. By this time the other poly partners haven't come into the picture yet.

XX/XX/XXXX

The cutest little thing ever just happened with my Gras-Atari today! My Atan sent me a crystal memory of her, since I've yet to meet her officially just yet. He says she's gotten much better since the last one he sent where in she was saying Dada and Pop Pop to Menahem and Harker! And this little bit he sent today has proven it. She's actually started calling Dust an Aw Aw apparently. So sweet. Course they did make sure to teach her the word Crow afterwards. Watching her makes me wanna meet her so badly. But I know I must restrain myself. Menahem is still getting used to parenthood, and well Eden is still fresh for us. So naturally the Council is going to be watching him closely for a while. Though I really wish they would ease up sooner. My Atans and Atari have enough on their plates now as it is.

In other news my younger Atans, Issac and Samson came by the other day. They both were awfully haggard and in need of quite a bath. I certainly didn't require eyes to know they'd been around something fishy and rotten, vastly so. Luckily it didn't take them long, admittedly they're better than their elder brother is about hygiene. From there they asked if they could open up about their latest task to me. Well...Issac did mainly, Samson just nodded whilst letting him do most of the talking. As I listened I began work on a new cloak for Samson, this mission really did a number on the one he had then. What they described was truly disheartening to hear from them. To know they had to kill a whole village of humans, that Samael had baited them into this outcome for his own benefit, that Lilith continues to bring them grief! I hugged my boys tightly of course. I will avenge my family somehow, someday, mark my words.

Jael seems to be surprisingly well compared to the others. Which is all well and good, but at the same time I cannot help but worry that's she hiding the truth. But Erik, Menahem, and the boys have been telling me I cannot coddle or force it out if that's the case. All I can do is wait and see if she'll open up more one day when she's ready. For the time being however, she's actually been finding ways to help me branch out for the village to open up trade here. Menahem has also pitched in to aid in this, believing just as Jael does that it's high time the village grew in ways beyond population and general size. As their Elder, it is my duty to ensure the best for us after all. If they and my children all say it is wise to try, then by the gods and the Creator I shall give it a shot.

[tarnishedxknight]

"How's your arm?"

((@disillusionedjudge for Drace after the battle at Nalbina!))

@disillusionedjudge

Drace was almost never seen without her armor, but after the Battle of Nalbina Fortress, she was unfortunately sidelined for a few weeks. Perhaps for several. Time would tell. Although the battle had been an unquestioned victory for the Empire, Drace had not emerged unscathed. In attempting to draw the Dalmascan reinforcements from the fortress to better enable the destruction of the protective paling that surrounded it, she had crossed paths with Ser Basch fon Ronsenburg, Gabranth's twin brother. Regrettably, and to her utmost mortification, it was a duel he'd won.

The resemblance had been... disturbing. His fighting style was a unique one, though, and very different from Gabranth's own. She knew she ought not to compare the brothers, but in her curiosity, she had subconsciously done so. And silently, for she would never bring such topics up with Gabranth. It had been a strange encounter, however, for she'd found her usually easily restrained emotions giving way at the mere sight of the man. She knew well the reasons why Gabranth wanted nothing to do with Basch, and in her love for him, those reasons for hatred had become her own. Some part of her, whether she realized it or not, had been defending Gabranth that day, and it may have been that emotional volatility that cost her the duel entirely.

A blow to her left upper arm, dealt by the knight's sword finding a small break in her defense, had dislocated her shoulder on impact and resulted in severe muscle contusions. There had been enough power and strength behind the attack to dent her armor significantly, causing extensive bruising where the misshapen metal crushed her flesh. The sudden, shocking pain alone had caused her to cry out and stagger, but despite all Gabranth said of his brother's arrogance and self-righteousness... Basch had ceased his attacks the moment he'd realized the blow had struck true.

He'd simply stood and watched her, sword held in a defensive stance, unwilling to resume battle while she was faltering and in pain. Fool, she thought. You could have killed me. And yet, some small part of her respected the man for having such honor, which was an increasing rarity in the world. The Knights of Dalmasca, unlike the Judge Magisters of Archadia, were known throughout Ivalice for such honor, but this had been Drace's first time experiencing it. It left her conflicted and with many questions about Basch that she knew would likely never be answered.

The paling fell soon after, and with it, Nabradia's and Dalmasca's dreams of defending Nalbina Fortress and staving off Archadian occupation. Drace... had stepped back from Basch and relaxed her stance, a silent indication straight from the standard rules of engagement that she was withdrawing from the duel. "This is not yet over between us. Mark you well my words, Ronsenburg. I shall repay you in kind for this, someday hence," she'd said strongly, holding her wounded arm and half expecting him to not allow her to disengage from him. If he'd wanted to, he could have pressed her and potentially defeated or even killed her, but just as he hadn't taken advantage of the window of opportunity to kill her before, he did not then either. He'd given a single nod, that was all. And so Drace retreated, living to fight another day.

Had anyone else but Gylfie seen her without her armor, her arm tightly wrapped and held in a sling at her side, she might have snapped at them to leave. She trusted this one significantly, though, and did not mind her seeing her in this sort of compromised state.

"The pain is not by any means negligible," Drace replied with a slight smile. "But I will live." Her dislocated shoulder had long since been agonizingly popped back into place and the contused muscles in her upper arm were compression-wrapped to keep the internal bleeding to a minimum. Oh, but gods, did it hurt! The pain was good to feel, though. It meant she had failed at something and needed to do better next time. A lesson learned. "I shall be right as rain in a few weeks' time, Ynarra. Worry not," she added, for she could already see hints of sympathy in Gylfie's eyes.

[steptoeedwall]

On The Bible and "Prooftexting"

In my many years as a believer in Jesus Christ I have seen many, many people "quote" scripture to make one point or another. Usually, someone will make a statement and then provide a Bible reference to "prove" their point. You will, in this little blog, see me do this many times, IMPORTANT SAFETY TIP!!! READ THE CONTEXT OF ANY VERSE GIVEN BY ANYONE!!! It is very (to the 5th power) common for people to make some incorrect point and provide a Bible reference that is out of context and, thus, wrong. DO NOT LET THIS HAPPEN! AS we move along into some Biblical doctrines I will try to include some common misinterpretations and explain them. But this rule applies to my writing as well. Are you familiar with the Bereans in scripture? The Bible says that the Bereans searched the scriptures to see if certain things were true (Acts 17.11). REMEMBER, THE BIBLE INTERPRETS ITSELF!!! It does not contradict itself. This is a matter of faith that is critical for right interpretation -- for RIGHTLY dividing the word of truth (2 Tim 2.15).

Another one about scripture, The Spirit and comparing passages…

1 Cor 2:12-16:  But we received, not the spirit of the world, but the Spirit which is from God, that we might know the things that were freely given to us by God. Which things also we speak, not in words which man’s wisdom teaches, but which the Holy Spirit teaches, comparing spiritual things with spiritual things. Now the natural man doesn’t receive the things of God’s Spirit, for they are foolishness to him, and he can’t know them, because they are Spiritually discerned. But He who is Spiritual discerns all things, and He himself is judged by no one. “For who has known the mind of the Lord, that he should instruct Him?” But we have Christ’s mind.

Read the passages, check different translations (and by the way, NO translation is inspired or perfect -- they are all fallible!), compare them and, in faith, FIND THE WAY! :)

The Lord Jesus Christ, in His upper room discourse before His crucifixion, told the disciples…

John 16.12 I have many more things to tell you but you cannot bear them at this time…

He went on to reveal that we would receive the indwelling ministry of God The Holy Spirit who would guide us into all truth. And truth, it turns out, is permament…

Mathew 24.35, Mark 13.31, Luke 21.31: "Heaven and earth will pass away but my words will not pass away". This means that God preserves scripture. The Lord will not allow anyone to mess with what He has to say. (Someday I will do an incredibly clever post called "God invented blockchain!"). His words are forever. And, by the way, don't let anyone tell you that what was and wasn't scripture was decided by some council in the 4th century or whatever. God decides what is scripture, man can only recognize it. Early Christians had an extremely well developed idea of what writings were "canonical" and what writings were not. There have been some good books about this and many bad ones. I will find a couple of the good ones and let y'all know…

Mat 5:17  "Do not think that I came to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I did not come to abolish but to fulfill. "For truly I say to you, until heaven and earth pass away, not the smallest letter or stroke shall pass from the Law until all is accomplished. "Whoever then annuls one of the least of these commandments, and teaches others to do the same, shall be called least in the kingdom of heaven; but whoever keeps and teaches them, he shall be called great in the kingdom of heaven. "For I say to you that unless your righteousness surpasses that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven.

This is another example of the fact that God preserves scripture. Don't let anyone use this passage to convince you that we as "church age" believers are "under" the law and obligated to do all that stuff. The law was (and is) divine revelation and Jesus "fullfilled" the many prophetic aspects of it. It stands as divine revelation forever and will continue to be valid forever even though subsequent revelation more fully explained many of those truths. Check out Paul, in Galatians, explaining that the law was a tutor. The law of Moses was given to teach and regulate the nation that was ordained to be a "light to the nations" and to reveal the savior to come (primarily) in ritual form. When a prophet "taught" the law, he explained the meaning behind all those things. The Law of Moses remains a shining example, even today, of God's grace forever.

Luke 16.17 -- "But it is easier for heaven and earth to pass away than for one stroke of a letter of the law to pass away".

Just remember that when an apostle or other early witness of Christ talks about "the law" he is speaking in the sense that "the law" was the dominant revelation of Jesus Christ before the new testament epistles and the gospel accounts were written. Christ here is talking about the law as revelation, not as a code of living for believers after the sacrifice and resurrection and pentecost, which, at this point in His ministry, were not "on the table" yet. We are not "under" the law of Moses. It says so in many places in the new testament, particularly in Hebrews and Galatians.

Finally, I will wrap this up with what are known as "The Five Solas" which are, according to wikipedia (which we all know is the fount of all knowledge), a product of the protestant reformation. Actually, in my not so humble opinion, they are a product of scripture…

sola scriptura (by scripture alone) - growth as a believer is by God's word alone. There is no mystical revelation. God has finished what He has to say to the human race in writing (the greatest form of human communication). It is finished and beyond criticism. It is God's word and it is complete. (2 Peter 1.3). It has everything required for life and godliness (when someone who doesnt know thing one about the bible wants to criticize scripture or claims that God's message is incomplete thus requiring personal revelation from him, reject that person!) To be clear, I do not believe that God "speaks" to anyone today outside of His Word (That He went to a great deal of trouble to reveal, assemble and preserve in writing). I love people who make little effort to figure out The Bible but want or claim to have direct insider knowledge of stuff. (I actually do love them and can understand the confusion caused by a lot of unclear teaching out there..)

sola fide (by faith alone) - Christian salvation is by faith alone in Christ alone. Go into your e-sword and look up the word "believe" and see all the verses. Faith is WHAT you believe. Jesus Christ was (and is) the God-man, 2nd person of the GODHEAD (dont freak out, we will talk about the trinity and polytheism, it's not so complicated) who lived a perfect life relying on God The Father and God The Holy Spirit, and was unjustly crucified (capital punishment in Roman times) and received judgement (the severing of that eternal relationship for three hours on the cross) of all the sins of mankind, past, present and future so that simple belief would "save" any single person. Remember, salvation is NOT by anything you do. You dont have to be a good person, you dont have to join a church, you dont have to weep tears of repentence or answer an altar call or speak in tongues or promise to change your life or stop drinking or anything like that. You just have to believe in THE SON. And not only that, Jesus was judged once and for all so that you could believe once and it will be effective forever. It used to be common in our country for people to talk about someone going to church and "getting saved". That IS how it works. You get saved once and for all time. As a nation we have gotten away from that which explains many of our problems at the moment.

sola gratia (by grace alone) - God's policy is grace. This means it is a free gift and you cant do ANYTHING to earn or deserve it. Christ died for your sins because of who HE is. Not because you are a wonderful person. Not because you earned or deserved anything from God. You, like everyone else, were born an unrighteous (which really means you are separated from God) human being and in need of Someone to FIX THAT FOR YOU. The Lord Jesus Christ did 100% of the work required to allow you to have an eternal relationship with God. Do not try to substitute anything for that simple belief that JESUS CHRIST WAS (AND IS) ENOUGH TO SAVE YOU! The Bible says the road to destruction is wide (working for it) and that many at the last judgement will try to argue (in vain) that their works should be enough to save them. In the old testament, Isaiah describes all our righteousness as "menstrual rags" in an attempt to communicate that our attempts at righteousness are unappealing (to put it mildly) to God. GOD GAVE THE MOST SO CLUELESS HUMAN BEINGS COULD JUST DO THE LEAST!!) Of course, nothing about the biological process of menstruation is, in any way, shameful. After all, God designed it. In our hypersensitive society I feel like I needed to say that…

solus Christus (Christ alone) - The Lord Jesus Christ said, "I am The Way and The Truth and The Life. No one comes to the Father except through me". The apostle Peter also said in Acts 4:12  "And there is salvation in no one else; for there is no other name under heaven that has been given among men by which we must be saved." Jesus Christ is the only savior…

Soli Deo gloria (glory to God alone) - A major part of my own theological foundation is that human history is about the Glory of God. It is a huge subject. There are many verses and rationales and it's not something that you can just quote a couple of verses and say, "THERE!!" But a quick summary that I think makes sense. God is perfect, eternal and almighty, and exists in three persons. God created a race of beings called "messengers", or more commonly to us, "angels". The Bible tells the story of the greatest angel who God created named Lucifer. He was perfect and sinless. But he came to desire the glory of God and sought to be elevated to that status. So he "fell" and there are indications that he took a sizable percentage of other angels with him in that desire to be worshipped like God. This has led to problems on planet Earth. Meanwhile, the same thing, more or less, happened with the newly created human race. God, who is perfect and just, made a plan to deal with these problems and His plan includes time to choose and reflects who He actually is. It is a plan of grace coming from love (John 3.16). He apparently offered some kind of salvation to angels and He offers something like that to all of us. He is the source of all good things in life. For His Son and for love and life and truth and beauty and happiness and laughter. For knowledge and pleasure and friendship and justice and victory. For every good thing that exists in our reality. For reality itself, for God IS reality. We exist within the reality of Him and outside of that there is nothing. The Bible says that we are to praise God, with our lips and our lives. Why? Does God have low self esteem and needs our praise? Nope. He wants us to know Him and recognize who He is and what He has done, not because He needs that. But because He KNOWS that it is the very best thing for every one of us. Be oriented to reality. See that the things that have been done are very good and that reality is awesome. Notice the beauty and intricacy of life. Use your ability to reason to know even deeper things. And know what HE has to say and understand that eventually it's all going to be perfect once everyone has had a chance to believe. It rocks and it's free. Love somebody and tell them! There are going to be self absorbed people who miss the point, who are going to fall for lies, and we don't want that. God is not willing for anyone to perish but for all to come to a saving knowledge of His plan…

That's enough for now. Thanks and tell a friend… :)

SE

December 2022

[everlasting-elegy]

congratulations on 500!! for your followers event, i’d love it if you could write something for Solomon with the 💤 prompt! i was thinking something angsty because he realises MC is mortal and would leave him someday, but it’s completely upto you <3

Thank you!! And yes, I think that is a very good idea for the prompt, it shall be done ;)))

Wrinkle | Solomon x Reader

💤 Prompt: “I watch your face in profile, sleeping soundly, dreaming. Without me noticing, a tear spills over and runs down my cheek.” Genre: Bittersweet, Fluff Word Count: 0.8k

It wasn’t every night Solomon found himself sleepless, but he spent it like any other night since he became your lover. Head against the pillow, facing you as you slept soundly. So exhausted by the antics you had with the other Devildom residents, you had fallen asleep before he had the opportunity to turn the light off. He opted to keep it on, allowing him the perfect view of your face.

He couldn’t restrain himself. Risking the possibility of you waking up, he reached to cup the side of your face, stifling a chuckle as your face immediately twitched at the contact. Yet your expression eased as his thumb rubbed light and soothing circles on your cheek. It always hurt when you shied away from his gaze, and as much as he loved flustering you, he always wanted to see any and every expression you were adorning. At least now, with your guard down, he can take in your features in their full beauty. How fortunate was he to be able to spend this time with you. Despite the faces he sees in Purgatory Hall or his visits to the Celestial Realm, you had the most angelic appearance of them all.

Under the pads of his fingers he could feel every groove and bump of your skin. He knew these days fellow humans were pedantic in covering up so-called ‘flaws’, but in his years of living he never understood why. Every indent on the skin told a story, each mark a testament to your time in the realms. He traced over the markings, marveling at them like they were the finest pieces at a museum.

Eventually, his movements came to a stop once he reached your eyes. In the corners, the indentations of crows' feet stretched to your temples, a reminder to him of all the times you were elated to be by his side. And yet, something was poisoning the warmth in his heart. Was it the lighting or were they always so distinguished? He was happy to see the remnant of your smiles imprinted into your skin, but his mind couldn’t help but wander. Wander into the future where the talons of crows’ feet will stretch further on your skin, reaching the boundaries of your face and to the roots of greying hair. Where wrinkles cut deep into skin that have lost their colour. Where the pulse pounding under his fingers could only thrum weakly and so achingly slow.

The time you had here was finite, Solomon knew that. He had yet to bring up the idea of you spending eternity with him, it felt like such a selfish request. He couldn’t make you suffer the pain of mourning everyone else for the sake of him. And so, he stood by and watched. Watched as you walked down the path of life and he stood still. With every lighthearted joke of how you were ‘too old for this’ or how ‘old age was getting to you’, he was painfully reminded how you were constantly moving forward. And one day you’ll walk past the horizon, leaving him behind.

“Solomon?”

Brought back to the surface of his thoughts, he shook his head slightly at you calling his name. Voice croaky with sleep, syllables slurred, Solomon responded with his classic, enigmatic smile.

“Yes, my dear?”

“Why are you crying?”

Feeling your fingers brush just under his eyes, he closed them, the sensation of tears brimming in his eyes and overflowing as they ran down his cheek. They were caught by your thumb as he let out a shaky exhale.

“I… I wasn’t aware.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He stayed silent as he caught your wrist. Nimble fingers dragging your hand down until the back of your palm lay flat against the pillow and he rested his cheek on top, gently nuzzling into it. ‘Talk about it’? What was there to say? You, out of everyone, would be the most aware of your own mortality, he had no need to remind you. But perhaps there were other things he could remind you of now that you were here with him.

“I love you,” he said eventually.

“I love you too,” you responded instantly but your voice was laced with concern. On the hand he laid on, your thumb rubbed his jawline soothingly. He responded with a content hum.

“And I’ll love you forevermore,” his voice was quiet but grounded, determined. “No matter what happens. I love you.”

“Solomon…”

You pulled yourself closer to him, pressing your forehead against his and his arms instinctively wrapped around you. You peered into his eyes and he looked back in awe. Even as time waged a war against the rest of your body, your eyes shone with the sparkle of youth. Glowing with vitality and wit, more magical than any spell he could ever conjure. Under your watchful gaze he could be at ease, sleep starting to overtake him. In the last few moments of consciousness, his hold on you tightened into a comforting yet firm embrace, one so secure that not even time itself could pry you away from him.

500 Followers Event Masterlist

Obey Me! Masterlist

[myfellowmelo]

Brother’s Best Friend

Context: Your brother’s best friend happens to be the popular basketball player, Lamelo Ball. And no matter how much you say you don’t feel anything for the boy, your body says otherwise after every encounter/game.

Includes: Smut, Oral sex, masturbation, teasing, swear words, hint of degrading.

Word count: 4040?

My POV.

“We can’t keep doing this Melo.” I whimper as his cock starts plunging deep inside me. Stuck in the locker rooms where he dragged me in there. His celebration for winning the game started early.

“You say that a lot for someone who’s obsessed with my dick.” He tells me. Before I answer him, he picks me and slams me onto his locker. Arms wrapped around his neck as he picks up the pace. “Melo! Oh god!” Gripping his hair as he relentlessly pounds my g-spot. Making it his absolute goal to have me cumming all over his cock. He needs to have me walk out the Spectrum Center with your hole stuffed with his liquids. “Take it baby. Fucking take it!” He groans. Sucking on my neck as he desperately tries to leave me as many marks as he wants. He loves how well I tighten around him. I love how no matter how hard I try not to fall, I still end up in his arms. Begging him to fuck me senselessly over and over again. Rolling his eyes back as I grip his hair yet again. Usually he would say some stupid sarcastic comment about leaving him bald like his head, but my pussy felt so good he couldn’t even muster up the words to say anything.

Omniscient.

Your moans were absolutely beautiful. Something he needs to hear on a regular basis just to even function. Having you fucked out until you could barely stand is what he was striving for. But it was all cut off short when he heard the locker room door open. Pulling out of you, you two quickly dress up.

“Melo ? Are you there?” Your brother Miles calls out.

“Hide!” He tells you. Signaling the shower room, you run inside quickly.

“Yeah I’m here!” Melo stated composing his breath.

Walking from around the lockers, Miles’ eyes brighten up, “Oh there you are! I was wondering when you were planning to get out of the locker room. Hey, have you seen y/n by any chance?”

Melo scoffs, “Do you see her around here?” A nervous chuckle leaves him but covers it up by a huff.

“Asshole. I was just asking.” Miles says as he rolled his eyes. Miles grumbled  “I can’t reach her-“

“Well she must’ve been tired. Probably went home.” Melo interjected him mid way.

“Yeah you’re right. Oh I know!” Miles claps his hands that startles Melo.

“What?” He furrows his brow.

“She’s hooking up.” Miles says with stars forming around his eyes.

“What?!” Melo says, taken aback. How did he know? And just when Melo said that, you too did as well in the shower room. Heart racing as you waited for yours and his name to fall out of your brother's mouth.

“Yeah, she once mentioned about this crush she has on Nate” Miles says looking back at his memories.

“Nate? My friend Nate?” Melo says surprised

“Yeah-“

“Nate, my teammate? Number 30 Nate?” Melo says again trying to confirm if what he heard was real.

“Yes! Nate Darling. She’s had a crush on him since I came here. Well I don’t know if she still likes him but she has been running off lately so I won’t be surprised if she comes out of a room with a large hickey on her chest. He’s very goofy.” Miles states while searching around the locker room.

“Yeah well I’m goofy too.” Melo mumbles. Shoving his stuff in his bag.

“What was that?” Miles asks him.

“Nothing! Now shall we get going?” Melo says as he gathered the remaining items and stuffed it in his duffel bag.

“Oh yeah, let’s go, You hungry?” Miles said as he gave up and went to the door with his stuff on hand.

Making his way out, you peek your head. Looking at Melo who merely glanced at you and walked out after your brother.

“Shit,” you cursed under your breath.

—————

“Melo, please call me back.” You say to the voicemail. It’s been three days and ever since he found out about your old crush on his friend he can’t even talk to you. Not even look at you for that matter.

You didn’t understand. You two weren’t anything. You guys weren’t dating and on the occasion he’s made it very clear that you two are nothing more but fuck buddies.

“Hey you okay?” Your friend asks you. Taking a seat next to you after grabbing her lunch.

“Oh yeah I��m, I’m okay,” trying to mask your emotions.

“You sure? You know I’m good at telling when one is lying.” She says giving you the look that was so tempting to have you spill out all of your thoughts.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” I stated while I tried to divert my gaze to the floor.

“Okay but you know I’m here when you’re ready yeah?” Nodding, she smiles and hands you her green apple. The only kind of apple you like. Appreciating it, you take it and take a bite out of it. As she told a story about something, you couldn’t focus on anything but his table. He wasn’t there, but everyone else was. Including Nate.

“Oh my god.” Your best friend gasps.

Averting your eyes from the table you look over at her. “What?”

“Can’t believe it.” She said with her mouth hanging open.

“What? What’s going on?” You said as you look around.

“He said he was done hooking up. I swear if he brings another girl home I’m going to lose it.” She said, glaring her eyes. You see, she is Gelo’s girlfriend and they are both staying over for the week before going back to Cali.

Turning around to meet her gaze, your eyes widen when you see Melo enter the cafeteria with a girl around his arm. No no not just any girl. The captain of the Hornets cheerleading team. You couldn’t tell what shocked you more, that Melo already replaced you with some girl days after he continuously dodged you, your texts, and your calls. Or the fact that he was able to pull the head leader of the cheerleading team. The CHEERLEADING TEAM. You expected one of the nurses which could’ve made more sense. Usually everyone in the cheerleading team tends to take their work very seriously and never have time to not even hook up. Now this, this was truly a shocker.

Walking past you. He ignores you yet again and plants a kiss on her temple. Arm around her as she giggles and holds his hand. What a brat. Following their movements until they reached their table, where the boys greeted him. Cheers burst when he introduces them to her. Who looks to be his new girlfriend.

“Shocking right? Psh wrong.” Your best friend scoffs.

“Yeah. Sorry you have to deal with that,” you say genuinely.

“Yeah I feel sorry too but boys will be boys that’s just the sad truth.” She shakes her head and continues on eating her lunch.

“Yeah…” you mutter watching as he converses with his friends. His arm is still around her neck. “You’re right.” You finish off, looking down to the barely eaten apple.

For the next few days you ignored Melo completely. You didn’t know whether you should confront him or not. I mean it is his loss if he wants to push you away. But also another part of you wanted an explanation and maybe to seek salvation of the last bit of what you two have. If you guys even had anything in the first place. But Melo seemed serious. He had her with him at all times. And any time he saw you, he would get all cuddly and affectionate with her and it would get too repulsive to even stand being in the same area as him. What sucked is that both him and his little girlfriend shared the same afternoon as you. Workouts. The two of them sit in front of you which is worse because he’s constantly baby talking to her. Asking her if she needs any help and never lets her lift heavy weight. What an ass kisser really.

And you couldn’t really understand why you were so bothered by it. You never saw Melo anything other than a fuck buddy. There were times where you would ask yourself if you could see yourself dating him and it always ended with you gagging and having to eat a snack to clear your head. Yet here you are, wishing that this girl would walk off the face of the earth. While you were too busy sulking, you didn’t notice someone taking a seat next to you to use the weights.

“Hi y/n!” Nate says cheerfully. His boxy smile facing you as he set his stuff onto the table.

“Hey Nate-“ and then it hit you. Oh why did you not think about this sooner? Think y/n, think! Turning your head to face the bubbly boy, you tilt your head and smile at him. “Heyyy Yangyang,” you said again trying to be flirtatious.

Furrowing his brow, he looks at you oddly. “You okay?…”

“Totally!” You say nervous laughing it off.

Melo before you who was once cuddly to his new girlfriend was now tense. “Say Nate, how come we don’t hang out as much?” You ask him.

“Oh well I’d like you to hang out but you don’t like getting body slammed onto the court huh?” He said elbowing you.

Giggling, you shake your head. “We should hang out someday.”

Melo scoffs as he rolls his eyes. His girlfriend giving him a confused look.

He sends her a fake smile and signals to the coach who has now entered the training facility. As if his reason for scoffing was the coach entering. Picking up his large water bottle, he spins the cap off and goes to take a sip.

“So like a date?” Nate asks you genuinely.

“You want it to be a date?” With this, the boy in front of you who was once taking a sip from his water bottle, is now choking on it. The training facility silences as they stare at him curiously.

“You okay Ball?” The coach asks him. Not answering with words but rather with a thumbs up, he nods and proceeds to start the lecture.

“A date is then babe.” Nate says, using his index finger to bump your chin lightly.

—————

“I knew it! It was about time you two finally got together.” Your best friend claps her hands.

“We’re not getting together. It's simply a date, nothing else.” I say to remind her.

“Please you two will be dating in no time. Now let’s see what we can have you get dressed in.” While she went through the pile of clothes I brought for her to piece together an outfit. The front door opened and slammed close.

“Geez I bet it’s Melo, another sucky practice.” She shakes her head.

Chuckling, I nod along. “Right. Hey can I go grab a bottle of water real quick?”

“Yeah go ahead, it’s gonna take me a while to make an outfit with these clothes. Your wardrobe isn’t the most stylish no offense.” She said while still looking at the clothes.

“None taken” you shake your shoulders. Leaving her room, you go down the stairs and into the kitchen. In there was the boy you wanted to see. Ignoring him, you walk past him who was seated on the stool chair.

His eyes following you as you opened the fridge and pulled out a water bottle. Jumping back when he was standing right next to you once the door was closed. “My goodness Melo what the hell?-”

“Why didn’t you tell me about Nate?” He said while his breath fanned against your neck:

“What about him? It’s none of your concern-” You turn around looking up to face him.

“It is!” He says, flying his arms around in frustration.

“Shhh keep it down Melo!” You said as you patted his upper stomach because that’s all you could reach.

“Or what? Afraid your brother will find out huh?” He says while he took a step forward, you took one back. Doing so until you were up against the counter. “Afraid your brother will find out how desperate you are for me. How I’m I able to get you begging for my cock over and over again mm?” He tells me slowly. His head lowering closer and closer to my lips. Pulling his head and smashing my lips onto his. He immediately responds, pulling me closer to him. Picking me up and resting me on top of the counter. A nice grip on his hair as I kiss his lips until I am sure they’ll be swollen. His hands roamed up my shirt. Already missing my soft skin against his hands. Leaning in more and more, wanting - no needing more of me. It’s been almost two weeks and he really missed me. Yet he would never admit to it. His growing erection began to tighten his shorts. And I knew this.

He groans and curses when I lay a hand on his crotch. “Missed me that much?” I ask him tauntingly. Chest heaving as he looks down at my hand softly stroking the outline of his dick. Softly thrusting forward, needing more of my touches. But he was surely mistaken if he thought I would give in easily. Pushing him back, I get off the counter. Shock written all over him. “Don’t think I forgot the shit you pulled on me. I was over Nate a long time ago. It was barely even a damn crush. But because of your stupid stubbornness, you no longer have a shot at having me anymore Melo. Enjoy your time with your precious girlfriend.” Taking a step forward, on tippy toes, I got closer to his ear and whispered, “Bet she doesn’t make you cum like I do.” Biting my lip, I grab my water and walk away.

Watching as I walk away, he shuts his eyes close and shakes his head. “Fuck.”

————

“It was nice hanging out with you Nate. And sorry for any wrong intentions I might’ve given you in the training facility.” I said getting up after the date with Nate was over.

“Don’t sweat it. I’m not dumb I know that you and Melo have been having sex for a while now. Just didn’t know it was this serious.” Nate said following my lead.

“It isn’t serious.” I restated.

“Really?” He asks, raising a brow at me. His smoothie in hand as we walked around the downtown mall. “Doesn’t seem like it.” Nate sighed looking up at the sky.

“What do you mean?” I asked curiously

“Doesn’t take Einstein to know we have feelings for one another.” He said laughing seeing the dumbfounded expression on my face.

“Woah! Hold on, feelings?! Psh I don’t have feelings for him.”  I said defending my self.

Nate scoffs and shakes his head. “It’s so obvious.”

“It’s not-”

“It’s so!” He said again standing his ground.

“You have completely lost it, Nate Darling.” He laughs, taking a sip from his drink.

“Please, I knew something must’ve gone down. I had my guess when he started arriving at our training all gloomy and silent and not even having the same energy. But then when he brought Natalie to our table I knew something was definitely up. Then you ‘asked’ me out. You two aren’t doing this simply to get back at each other or get on one another’s nerves. You guys are doing this in hopes one of you two will snap out of it and confess!” Nate said spilling it all out.

I stayed silent. I mean he wasn’t necessarily wrong. I asked Nate out in front of Melo knowing he would be listening in hopes that he would talk to me. Confront me, tell me how stupid I am and that I am  his. I also wanted him back. Even if he wasn’t entirely mine to begin with. Now if I were to ask that very same question that had me gagging at the mere thought of it, it didn’t sound so bad of a question. Can I see yourself dating Melo?

______

Omniscient.

“I bet by the end of the date, it’s going to be official.” Your friend beams. For a good fifteen minutes now she hasn’t stopped talking about you and Nate getting together after so many years. It’s annoying the hell out of him. And what makes it worst is that Natalie is sitting next to him smiling at her squealing at your potential relationship with his teammate.

“You okay baby?” Natalie asks him. “Mhm? Oh, uh yeah I’m alright.” He fakes a tight smile and goes back to being on his phone. Looking at the date, he sees that he has yet another game tomorrow. A part of him was wishing you would come to his game. What was he thinking of course you will just not for him but rather for Nate. The mere thought of it already has him rolling his eyes.

“Someone doesn’t seem in a good mood.” Your best friends voice brings him back from his thoughts.

“Just tired it’s all. Gotta game tomorrow.” Melo said Turing off his phone.

“Oh yeah that’s right. Aw man I wish I could go but I have my thing going on with the modeling agency.” Your friend stated cleaning up the kitchen.

Natalie pouts. “It’s alright.”

“Well I guess I better start heading up to my room. Imma text y/n how her date went with her soon to be boyfriend.” She wiggles her brows.

Fighting the urge to scoff. “Yeah I should get going too.” She smiles at him and says her goodnights.

Natalie left a few minutes later, getting on her tippy toes, he got the sudden Deja vu from when you did that to him not long ago. Moving his face so that her lips connected with her cheeks. She waves him goodbye and leaves. Closing the door, he sighs and his head gets rushed with images of you. Very naughty things of you. Once again feeling that tightness in his shorts begin to grow.

“Fuck y/n!” He hissed. Fisting his cock as he teases his tip. Getting off to the thought of you sucking him off. Your pretty lips on his tip, those gorgeous eyes looking up at him as you try to pleasure him. Remembering how even when he’s finished cumming you still don’t pull away. Turning him more at how you have an oral fixation that you found out because of him. Biting his lip as he concentrates on jerking himself off. Memories on how overstimulated he once felt when you just couldn’t pull his dick out of your mouth. Whining when he tried pulling you off him. “God baby. You take my cock so well shit.” He mutters. Tilting his head back as he rubs himself faster. His hand jerking himself quicker as he felt the familiar need to release begin to bubble up.

Thinking about having you bounce on his cock as you beg him to continue fucking you until you’re sobbing. Telling you how much of a slut you are for his cock. Your hands gripping his hair as you suck hickies all over him. And just like that, his warm fluids were shooting all over his bed sheets. Catching his breath as he was consumed with the darkness of his room.

______

Omniscient.

It was the day of the game. People started filling up the bleachers but no matter how much people were entering through the metal doors you still haven’t shown up.

“Hey Nate, where’s y/n?” Melo asked curiously.

“How will I know?” Nate said with the ball in his hands getting ready to shoot.

“She’s practically your girlfriend, you should know by now if she’s planning on cheering for her boyfriend” Melo says. Tone harsh when saying boyfriend.

Nate stares at him and later laughs. “What?” Nate shakes him and pats his shoulder. “You’re funny dude.”

Walking away, with a puzzled look. He sighs and takes one last look at the bleachers. His eyes met yours. Trying to hold in his smile. But you caught it. After thinking back on what Nate said, he was right. You wanted his attention and if he wasn’t going to do something first, you would. Smiling softly at him as you give him two thumbs up. He chuckles and nods. Eyes looking down and freezes when he sees Natalie. He forgot the cheerleaders are taking a break for 2 weeks. Holding a poster with his jersey number in it. Looking away quickly, as he hurries back to the rest of his team.

By the end of the game, the crowd was loud and rowdy. Anxious as it was a tie once again. Melo , who was now with the ball, rushed until he got near the net and dunked the winning point. The crowd roared as they clapped and cheered for him and the team's victory. Standing as you cheered for him too. Going down the steps to congratulate him. Looking for #1. You smiled warmly at him as you walked up to him. Freezing when a familiar figure walks the aisle before you calls out for his name. Rushing down the steps and enveloped him in a tight hug. Smile dropping as his eyes never left yours. He was still with her, and a part of you felt stupid. Were you really going to confess? Especially since Natalie is such a sweet girl and really likes Melo. She couldn’t ruin that. Couldn’t ruin what they have. But maybe there’s hope. Maybe he doesn’t have the same feelings for her and has some for you.

“Surprise!” She tells him excitedly. But you were certain that wasn’t true when Natalie pulled Melo down for a kiss.

Scoffing, you felt stupid. Embarrassed really. Turning around, you make your way out of the Spectrum Center. Melo pulls away quickly, keeping Natalie at arms length. “Melo? Baby what’s wrong?” Natalie said, looking up at him with her arm around him.

“Natalie, I'm sorry. But I can’t do this, I know it’s sudden and you deserve an explanation but I can’t keep going on in a relationship I don’t want to be in. I’m really sorry but I have to go.” He said as he broke the contact, heading to the door.

“Melo? Wait- Melo!” But he was already out the doors. Rushing after you.

“Where are you?” He says under his breath in search of you. Looking through every hallway and room and still no sign of you. “Dammit y/n where are you?!” He slammed his hand on the door and went inside of the locker-room.

“I’m here.” You said silently.

Turning around, there you were before him.

Staying silent as you two suddenly didn’t know what to say anymore. After much contemplation on what he should say to you, he starts taking small steps towards you.

“It’s you. It’s always been you.” He tells you softly. Meeting him in the middle, you grab his face and pull him in. Gripping your waist as he kisses you desperately. The kiss was no longer the same old one that was filled with lust and need. It was now filled with passion, love and want. Pulling away, leaning your forehead on top of his.

“Can’t go another day without you.” He said underneath his breath.

“Then don’t. Don’t let me go.” You said, with tears threatening to fall.

“Never baby.” Melo said, looking down at you.

————

“You two were what?!”

Your brother exclaims in pure shock. Both you and Melo are standing before him, hand in hand. Standing behind you and he plants soft kisses on your temple. Rubbing your arm for comfort, comfort for the burst of your brother who is now finding out the truth of you two. But no matter the outcome, he was just glad he now has you. In his arms once again. Only this time, he’s got you locked in. And you aren’t going anywhere anytime soon.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• I hope you liked my first imagines, I know there are some errors with the POV, but I’ll fix it later!

Thank you for reading 😊😊

[j-rock101]

文法：〜させる（使役形・Causative Tense）

The causative tense mainly describes two types of situations:

1) When someone makes someone else do something. This can be through instructions (like from a parent to child, or teacher to student), persuasion, or even force.

母は私にケーキを食べさせました。 My mother made me eat cake (even though I didn’t want to).

2) When someone lets someone else do something, either by giving them permission or by remaining hands-off and not interfering.

母は私にケーキを食べさせました。 My mother let me eat cake (for my birthday! Isn’t she the world’s best mom?).

For the most part you have to rely on context or common sense to help you distinguish between the two.

寝させろよ!!! LET ME SLEEP!!!

(『月刊少女野崎くん』 Girl’s Monthly Nozaki-kun, vol. 4 by Izumi Tsubaki)

You can think of the sentence form as a stereotypical child/parent relationship, where the "parent" allows or makes the "child" do certain actions. Of course both could be omitted from the sentence, but even so it’s best to keep this structure in mind:

"Parent" は・が　"Child" に・を　(Causative verb) "Parent" makes/lets "Child" do ~

The "Child" most commonly takes に, but it may take を instead if 1) the child unconsciously or unwillingly performs the action; 2) the child is actually a thing with no will of its own; or 3) if you are using another に particle somewhere in the sentence. Similarly if the verb is transitive and を is being used for another object, you should use に. (*)

- よし　やってみよう - よつばがやる！よつばにやらせて！ - All right, let's give it a try. - Yotsuba will try! Let Yotsuba try!

(『よつばと！』 Yotsuba&!, vol. 8?? by Azuma Kiyohoko)

Causative Tense Conjugation (Standard)

る verbs: Replace the る with させる

食べる　→　食べさせる

う verbs: Replace the -u sound with -aせる

買う　→　買わせる　　読む　→　読ませる 行く　→　行かせる　　急ぐ　→　急がせる 立つ　→　立たせる　　死ぬ　→　死なせる 帰る　→　帰らせる　　遊ぶ　→　遊ばせる 話す　→　話させる

Irregular verbs:

する　→　させる 来る　→　こさせる

Once in the causative tense, these verbs all conjugate as regular る verbs.

Slang Variations

There are several variations on the standard conjugation patterns.

1) Shortened Conjugation

る verbs: Replace the る with さす

食べる　→　食べさす

う verbs: Replace the -u sound with -aす

買う　→　買わす 読む　→　読ます　…

Irregular verbs:

する　→　さす 来る　→　こさす

This form is much rarer than the original form, and may be seen in dialects like Kansai-ben. It is slang, but there are some words that have made it into standard Japanese: 泳がす (to make ~ swim), 沸かす (to boil ~), and 寝かす (to put ~ to sleep). (*)

2) さ入れ言葉

Unlike shortened conjugation, this conjugation is actually nonstandard and would be marked incorrect. But much like ら抜き is growing more common with potential verbs, many young people especially may incorrectly* add an extra さ into their conjugation of う verbs like so:

買う　→　買わさせる 読む　→　読まさせる

While it may not be in your best interest as a language learner to use さ入れ言葉, you may hear or see it used so it’s best to be aware of its existence. (*)

(*according to textbooks, but language is a constantly evolving creature so who are we to judge!)

Causative て ＋ Give/Receive Verbs

Combining the Causative tense in the て form with give/receive verbs is one easy clue that the causative is being used with the meaning of “Let” rather than “Make.” The speaker's role in the sentence is usually set as either the subject or the receiver by the very nature of give/receive verbs, so you’re not going to find too many counterexamples. (*) Here’s a breakdown of some combinations:

・　Causer が（私 - Doer に）〜させてくれる 　　（⇑Honorific: 〜させてくださる） You are being allowed to do something, and this carries the sense that you’re grateful. A negative question would be used to ask permission. 　　　　〜させてくれない？ 　　　　〜させてくれませんか？(Can’t I ...?) 　　　　〜させてください。(Please let me …)

・（私 - Causer が）Doer に 〜させてあげる 　　（⇓Casual: 〜させてやる） You allow someone to do something. やる makes the expression rougher, and is used mostly by men. 　　　　〜させてあげようか？(Just this once, I'll let you ...) 　　　　〜ないと...させてあげないよ 　　　　(If you don't ~, I won't let you ...)

・（私 - Doer が）Causer に 〜させてもらう 　　（⇑Honorific: 〜させていただく） Very similar to させてくれる, and describes an action you are allowed to do. However, note that the particles will be reversed since it is changed to “receiving!” It can also be used to ask for permission. 　　　　〜させてもらえない？(May I …?) 　　　　〜させていただけませんか？(May I …?) 　　　　〜させていただきます。(Allow me to…) 　　　　〜させていただいてありがとうございました。 　　　　　(Thank you for allowing me to … )

- それいぬ!? - なでさせてもらうか？ - …いい - That's a DOG?! - Shall we ask to pet it? - ...No, that's ok.

(『よつばと！』 Yotsuba&!, vol. 14 by Azuma Kiyohoko)

善逸さんは今日から訓練参加ですので　ご説明させていただきますね（キリッ） Because Zenitsu is joining our training starting today, allow me to explain. (Resolute)

(『鬼滅の刃』 Demon Slayer vol. 6 by Gotoge Koyoharu)

Because of the particle switch, させてもらう・いただく actually translates more naturally into the passive tense in English, since the focus of the sentence has been reversed to focus on the one who is being made to do something. While we can get around that dissonance by translating it as a request like "Please allow me to...", sometimes it can't really be helped. In the following example, in Nozaki's conversation with his new editor, the editor explains that he's already familiar with his work, so requesting permission would be unnatural--he's already read it. While Nozaki, who is wary of a new editor and startled by the news hasn't explicitly granted him that permission, the editor uses the causative voice with 頂く to emphasize his gratefulness:

- 夢野さんの「恋しよっ♡」読ませて頂いてます 鈴木くんは読者さんに人気ありますね（正統派ヒーローで） -（ドキッ）なっ - Mr. Yumeno, I was given the opportunity to read your manga, Let's Fall in Love ♡. Suzuki certainly is popular among readers (As a standard hero) - (Ba-bump) Wha--

(『月刊少女野崎くん』 Girl’s Monthly Nozaki-kun, vol. 4 by Izumi Tsubaki)

Causative ＋　てしまう

While allowing and forcing are the two main uses of the causative form, there is one other usage: the responsibility usage, often indicated by its combination with the てしまう (to regretfully allow something to happen) grammar. This version expresses the guilt of the subject (who is usually the speaker, but not always) in not being able to stop a sequence of events from happening.(*) They let this happen, and it's all their fault.

おれが気づかなかったせいで59人も死なせてしまった I let so many people die--fifty-nine people--all because I didn't notice.

(『不滅のあなたへ』 To Your Eternity, vol. 11, by Oima Yoshitoki)

J-Rock Examples:

完成させないでもっと良くして Without finishing it, make it better ［宇多田ヒカル - 光］

このままじゃ終わらせないの I won’t let it end like this! ［DOLL$BOXX – Take My Chance］

散った願いも／いつの日にか花を咲かせるだろう Even scattered wishes / will probably make the flowers bloom someday. ［スキマスイッチ - 桜夜風］

アスファルトから出た芽が僕に知らせた。恋をしていた The plants sprouting from the asphalt told me [made me aware] so. I was in love.  ［HY - モノクロ］

震えるほどに　心躍らせたいの　始めようよ [I] Want to make my heart pound so I shake　Let’s begin ［Perfume - Spring of Life］

あなたを夢中にさせて I’ll put you in a trance ［exist†trace - GINGER］

一人にさせない  Don’t leave me alone (Lit: Do not make me into one person.) ［宇多田ヒカル - Prisoner of Love］

言葉なんか忘れさせて Make me forget those words

目を閉じたまま踊らせて Make me dance with my eyes still closed

［宇多田ヒカル - 忘却 featuring KOHH］

言葉にできない想いを／今宵は歌にして聴かせたい Tonight, I want to let you hear the song / Made of the thoughts I can’t put into words (Careful with this one–since there is no が・に to indicate whether the speaker or listener is allowed to hear, pay attention to the たい which clarifies it’s the speaker’s desire to permit. “I want you to let me” would be させてほしい or させて＋くれたい・もらいたい, etc.) ［宇多田ヒカル - 荒野の狼］

いつでも皆を笑わせる Always making everyone laugh ［水曜日のカンパネラ - 一休さん］

舞い上がる　愛を踊らせて It lets love dance　Soaring high ［X JAPAN - ENDLESS RAIN］

[squidproquoclarice]

Yeehawgust Day 26: Vultures Circling

August 1870

Gerhardt’s Pass, Oregon

Beatrice wasn’t sure whether it had been one day or two since the doctor had come.  She’d seen the look in his eyes, heard the hushed tones with which he murmured to Lyle over in the corner, and with Lyle cursing as he left the wagon and the pallet where she lay, she’d known what she already felt deep in her bones.  

The fever and the pain that had once consumed her had faded, felt now at some peculiar remove like hearing music from another room.  It would all be over soon, and that was a relief.  The vultures might be circling, so to speak, and she’d seen so many of them in the five years since they’d arrived in America.  She felt them watching her now just at the edge of her vision, not certain whether they were real or phantoms, and not certain whether it mattered.  Exhausted as she was, she could only accept it.  This was her end.

A part of her wondered whether she had caused this by her thoughts.  The nervousness and sometimes despair over being pregnant again, worrying what she would do.  David and Arthur both had readily crossed Lyle’s temper, for all David had been just a baby yet when he died.  Having lost two already, she knew the signs.  But this time, the bleeding hadn’t stopped.  Maybe it was being four months along this time that had done it.

We go together then, you and me, she thought towards that child that would never be, now finally able to offer them nothing but love and tenderness rather than having it mingled so heavily with trepidation and fear.  Perhaps we shall see David, and your other brothers or sisters.

But peaceful as that notion was, that still left Arthur.  He’d be alone with Lyle after this.  Lyle had gone to town hours ago, awkwardly grunting something about getting supplies.  She suspected it was only that he couldn’t sit here and watch her die, and that he’d be at the saloon nursing his sorrow.  Hard-handed and angry as he sometimes was, there was a peculiar vulnerable and tender streak in him all the same.  She was only thankful Lyle had taken Arthur with him.  He’d chased Arthur off most of the time since Beatrice took to bed, growling for him to go find something useful to do.  Sparing him the experience of it, she supposed.  She thanked him for that.  

She’d managed to talk to Arthur last night, though, when he’d crept in after Lyle went to sleep.  Given him the portrait of her taken earlier that year in Wyoming, and showed him the papers she’d hidden behind it.  Papers neither of them could read, but papers that would hopefully be the key to a better future all the same.  The ones that officially made him an American boy, not just another immigrant child.  He would belong here.  He already sounded far more American than Welsh, and she was grateful for that.  She could only hope he’d have the chances she’d wanted for him, even if she wouldn’t be here to see it.      

In the end, that was all she could do for him.  It seemed so little, and she was afraid for him all the same.

Hearing the creak of someone climbing in the wagon, she couldn’t help her surprise.  Lyle had come back so soon?  No, that couldn’t be.  But she heard footsteps approaching, and she heard the scrape of glass and the hiss of a match, saw the brightening behind her closed eyes as someone lit the lantern that had gone out awhile ago.  It hadn’t mattered to her, but now that there was light again, she opened her eyes to look at who had come to call.

She didn’t know either of them by sight, fair-haired and well past her own twenty-eight years. Neighbors?  No, they were far from anyone.  Lyle had made certain of it.  Who else would simply climb up into the wagon like this?  KInd strangers, perhaps.  “Are you looking for Lyle?”  It always seemed to come down to that.  She closed her eyes again.  “He isn’t here just now, and I’m sorry for whatever he’s done, but I’m afraid we don’t have much for the taking.”  Money ran through her man’s fingers like water, fast as his quicksilver dreams of riches.

“Should we...”  The woman spoke, her voice soft. 

She was too tired for this.  “Are you missionaries, then?  I suppose the saving of a soul becomes even more important at the very end.  There’s no need of that.  I’ve made what peace I might with my God, I assure you.”  Even if she’d come so far from the girl who’d attended chapel so faithfully back in Aberdare.

The man finally spoke up, his deep voice low and gentle.  “No.  You don’t need to worry about missionaries.”  The words in Welsh, no less, and the familiar lilt of it lifted her spirits in spite of herself.  “Mam, it’s me.  It’s Arthur.”

Now that snapped her to attention, and she opened her eyes, finding she had some fury to spare yet for someone who’d tease her like this as she lay there dying.  But she saw those eyes looking at her with a sad, knowing tenderness--that familiar blue-tinted green, the eyes she saw whenever she chanced to have a mirror.  The ones she saw too every day in her boy, her Arthur.  His hair--it was dusted with grey, yes, but the same dark blond as hers.  Lyle’s brows for certain, and something of the cast of his cheekbones.

Her boy had just turned seven last month, and yet she’d swear he also sat here beside her now, a man of at least forty, perhaps fifty.  She looked at him, and something in her knew him, something deeper than blood and bone, an echo within the soul.  “So you are.”  She didn’t know how it could be so, only that it was.  She drank in the sight of him.  Such a large man, tall and broad.  He hadn’t gotten that from Lyle, perhaps instead from her own father Dylan, such a large man he’d been permanently stooped long before he died from working in the cramped mine tunnels.  Seeing the marks of age on him, the lines etched into his face, and the scars--the small nick on the bridge of his nose, another on his right cheek, and a large one on his chin only somewhat hidden by a short-cropped beard.  Child-Arthur was healing a similar cut on his nose even now, earned by tumbling off the wagon while playing out a week ago, and by the look of it she’d known it would scar, just as it had on this man.  She glanced past him to the woman.  Tawny hair, a riot of freckles, amber eyes, a large scar on her right brow.  Watching Beatrice just as carefully as she was watched.  She asked, speaking in Welsh and managing some good humor, “Well, my boy, who is this you’ve brought with you?”  But she already suspected.

If she hadn’t already believed, that shy smile, that half-lowering of his gaze, would have told her.  “This is my wife.  Sadie.”

“Pleasure to meet you.”  Her Welsh was less polished, her accent more obvious to Beatrice’s ear, but it surprised her all the same to hear it.  Had Arthur taught her?  There were a thousand other questions.

But she licked her lips, needing now to ask the important question: “Why have you come?  And...how?”  She switched back to English for it.  He was an American, her boy, and she would have him be so to her at the end.  She’d fought hard for that.  It was good he hadn’t forgotten his Welshness entirely, but some things needed to be kept close and secret.  She knew that full well. 

“How?  I don’t know for sure.  There’s some red-headed fella named Sinclair who’s gonna have some explanations for this.”  He leaned in, and reached out to take his hand in hers.  A large hand, work-roughened, so unlike the small hand she still took sometimes to hold onto him in crowds and the like.  “Why?  That’s a question that’s got more answers than I know what to do with, really.  Cause I...”  He sighed, shook his head, and the aching look in his eyes told her too much.

“I know there’s no return from this, <i>fy ngwash i</i>.  It’ll be soon enough.  I knew it last night when I gave you those papers.  Did you have the use of them?”

“Sort of.  We ended up in Canada, so uh, proving I was born in Wales actually helped us there.”

“Not America, then?”

“There was better land in Canada.”

“So you’re a farmer?”  She couldn’t help but brighten at that.  She’d wanted something like that for him.  Something peaceful, gentle, nothing like Lyle’s life.

“Horses, mostly.  Some sheep, cattle, and the like.  It’s a good place.  A pretty good life.  And the rest, well…”

“You’d best tell her, Arthur,” Sadie said, her voice full of the twanging accent she’d heard in New Austin and some parts of Texas.  “She’ll see it eventually anyhow.”

He sighed, shoulders sagging.  “I reckon you will at that.  It weren’t...all what you hoped for me, Momma.  Daddy ain’t gonna live but another four years past this.  Gets hanged for horse theft in San Francisco just after Christmas.  After that, a lot happened.  And it took me a long time to get things right.”

“Then tell me how it was, son.”  She heard the tone of both inflexible command and gentle invitation in her words, and knew it for the way she spoke to him sometimes as a mother, asking to know the truth of something.  Usually when he’d done some petty mischief or theft that she knew was Lyle’s influence on him.  You must tell me, and perhaps I’ll tell you that it was wrong and why, but I won’t hate you for it.  Because I love you enough to want you to know what’s right.  She saw that conflict in him already, a boy who could steal candy from the store and shrug about it, but who’d come home the next day taking a beating to save a stray cat from being kicked to death by some older boys.

So he told her.  And perhaps it wasn’t the worst she could imagine after hearing Lyle was dead when Arthur was eleven.  But it made for no pretty picture.  Hearing he’d been taken in by criminals, and ones far better and more sophisticated than Lyle could ever be, something broke within her heart.  She’d wanted so much better for him.  But even as he didn’t quite look at her, he kept talking.

He told her of the gang he’d been in, of seeing no other life or future for himself.  Told her of a little boy named Isaac, her first grandchild.  You’ll meet him someday, long before you should.  He’s such a good kid.  I know you’ll love him, and he’ll love you.  Told her of nearly three decades of mistakes and failures after this.  She might have thought it was a life of only regrets, but then he told her of a new life he’d made, of Sadie, of Canada and the children who had lived, grandchildren she would never see: Beatrice, named for her.  Matthew.  Susanna.  Andrew.  

She felt that pull, as if being summoned.  Light fading, like a fire dimmed now beyond embers.  Arthur must have seen it as well, because he stopped telling her about little things, and reached out to take her hand.  Beatrice felt someone else take her other hand--Sadie, then.  “I don’t exactly know how we got here,” he said quietly.  “But I know how it was that day.  I came back with Daddy and you was gone already.  And...that always stayed with me.  That I wasn’t there.  And I know how it is.  Nobody ought to die alone like that.”  There was some kind of knowing weariness to his voice at that, a question she would never be able to ask and he would never be able to answer for her.  “So here we are.”    So much that would be left unsaid, but no matter.  She would see in time.  She would see all of it, and there was comfort to it, because now she knew her boy would be all right in the end.  That he would remember her too, that he loved her.  That put her fear to rest, and so now she could rest.  There were no vultures now, only the final words of love and farewell spoken, and the reassurance of the hands holding hers as everything faded into peace. 

[hadesgamedialogue]

Hades’ Interludes I

Hades: The Infernal ARMS are sealed away for a reason, boy! Your curiosity exceeds your common sense, but heed my words, you stay away from those accursed things! Zagreus: You stay away from me. 

Hades: Another VERMIN outbreak near the surface, then. Would that I had someone dependable to deal with it. Where are those blasted satyrs coming from, and to what end? The vile things. Zagreus: Guess I’ll see what I can do about it, Father.

Hades: A MORTAL’s life is short, and fraught with pain; is that truly the life you yearn for, boy? Zagreus: What’s life without a little pain.

Hades: You are IMMORTAL, boy, but in a manner, you can die; as you now understand. A most unpleasant feeling. is it not? Zagreus: I’m getting used to it. 

Hades: Your grandparents? The TITANS, they were called. Long since passed from this world, boy. You have my assurance, however, that you did not miss much, in having never met. 

Hades: The dead are JUDGED and sent to Asphodel, Elysium, or Tartarus. We keep the process neat and orderly. Everyone gets in, no one gets out.  Zagreus: I’ll show you neat and orderly.

Hades: The rivers flowing through this realm DIVIDE its regions suitably enough. And every shade knows better than to try and cross them!

Hades: Time you learned the BEARING of the gods, and to assert yourself. For this I have employed the greatest of the Greeks, or what became of him. 

Hades: Now, fling the blasted thing again, I said! and put your ANGER into it, this time, like so. Or if you’ve not anger enough for it yet, you’ll learn, I promise you. Zagreus: I’ve anger enough.

Hades: All of this realm are born of DARKNESS, boy. It’s part of everything you’ll ever see. The mortals on the surface, they all fear it, foolish as they are. Unable to even see its power. 

Hades: How many times must I EXPLAIN this, boy? Each Pact of Punishment needs to be promptly signed. and sealed. and filed. Rather than pile up! Zagreus: File this, Father. Zagreus: Not even the Pact of Punishment can stop me. 

Hades: That DOG is not your plaything, boy! Cerberus defends our realm so that no-one gets in alive, or gets out either way. 

Hades: HEROES? Mere mortals, same as all the rest. Someday you shall visit Elysium and meet some of these heroes, and discover that they are quite different than the songs suggest.  Zagreus: Headed over to Elysium right now...

Hades: ASPHODEL has flooded once again, with flame! Not quite the afterlife experience promised to the dead residing there, now, is it, boy? Zagreus: Who’s ready for the real afterlife experience?

Hades: ELYSIUM? It isn’t for the good; it’s for the great. Great kings or killers. Oft one and the same. They left their mark upon the world. Shall you? Zagreus: I’ll leave my mark all right.

[ichigo-daifuku]

See No Evil, Hear No Evil, Speak No Evil [3]

Fandom: Shall We Date?: Obey Me! Pairing: Diavolo/F!Reader Genre: Soulmate AU, Fake Relationship (?), Misunderstandings, Fluff, Angst, Smut

Synopsis: During a confrontation between Diavolo and a certain witch who harbors unrequited feelings for him, he declares his intention to ask you to stand beside him in reigning over the Devildom someday. You conclude only one logical explanation for the insanity he uttered: this is his way of discouraging the witch from being so persistent. Although clueless, you play along and become ‘lovers’ with him.

Inevitably, your existing attraction for Diavolo grows, but the distinction between truth and lies, the crisscrossed lines of the right and the wrong, and the question of what’s real and what isn’t, begin to plague your mind and stir up trouble for your relationship with him with each passing day.

Entangled within the woven threads of soulmates and a royal prophecy, this is the story of the Demon Prince and his future Queen: you.

1 | 2 | 3 Chapter 3: Speak No Evil Word Count: 5.6k

“Welcome, my lady.”

The staff at the Demon Lord’s Castle greeted you with dutiful bows. If they were surprised at the punctuality of your arrival, they showed no signs of it and ushered you inside. As per your previous visits, they were all cordial. Most of them even looked excited, and you felt a pang of guilt for deceiving them all this time.

Originally, the demon brothers had planned for your grand arrival with all seven of them escorting you to the ballroom. Due to your change of plans, however, you made excuses and admitted you had matters to discuss with Diavolo before the celebratory ball, intentionally leaving out any specifics. You persuaded them by divulging your plan of handing Diavolo the baked goods you prepared as a gift. In the end, the demon brothers reluctantly relented. You patted yourself on the back for remaining firm despite your gratitude for the Seven Rulers of Hell. It was a difficult feat to accomplish.

The day after your conversation with Solomon, you headed to town and purchased an outfit for the celebratory ball on your own rather than using those hanging on the racks of the prophesied Queen’s closet at the Demon Lord’s Castle. It was the first step in your departure from your role as the faux Queen. While browsing at one of your favorite boutiques, you found a red embroidered evening gown that completely covered your back and was zipped from the side. It was simpler than any of the formalwear in the Queen’s closet, but it wasn’t as if you would be at the party to impress anyone nor enjoy yourself.

It would be the last time you would pretend to be Diavolo’s other half. After this event, everything would be over.

A bittersweet feeling flooded your chest, but when you looked back at the moments you shared with Diavolo, you were unable to deny the truth to yourself: you’d do it all again if you could.

Your high heels click-clacked on the polished floor as you approached Diavolo’s study. Before anything else, you peeked inside and only entered the room once you found it empty. You shut the door and went over to his desk. The kisses you shared with him the other day were still fresh in your mind. In a span of a few days, your circumstances with him had completely changed. It was strange to stand in the same place with that realization gnawing at your gut.

Gingerly, you set the pastry box on Diavolo’s table, pulled a sticky note from his tall stack, and wrote a short thank you note for him. A small sense of finality washed over you as you signed your name and placed it on the box. It was cowardly of you to give him your gift like this, but once you’d told him you’d end this charade with him, he might decline it. You were already hurting, and as much as possible, you wanted to lessen the impact of his rejection.

After leaving his study and roaming around the castle, Diavolo remained nowhere in sight. You took a wild guess and went to the gazebo, a tinge of dread in your steps when you found out you were right. As tall and regal as he was during the first time you saw him, he stood and gazed at the lake, its tranquility one with its beholder.

“Diavolo,” you called.

“Hello there.” He turned his head to look at you, his lips breaking into a smile. “You’re beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you replied and moved forward, taking in the sight of him in formalwear. “You look great, as always.”

“You flatter me.”

“It’s the truth.” Once you reached the gazebo, you stayed at the threshold, ready to leave once you had said what you needed to tell him. “By the way, I left something for you in your study.”

“A gift?”

“That’s right. Some pastries. I baked them myself.”

“Let’s eat them together later. We can have our own after-party.”

“No, I made them for you. And we’ll get full at the banquet, won’t we?”

“There’s always room for dessert.” He laughed at his own quip and gestured over the lake. “Why don’t you stand beside me? The view is quite splendid.”

“It’s fine. I can admire it from afar.” Unwavering, you remained rooted at your spot. The lake was majestic, but it wasn’t what you were here for tonight. You hid your shaky hands behind your back and fiddled with your fingers, taking a deep breath as you returned your complete attention to Diavolo. “I have something to tell you. It’s important.”

“You can tell me anything, my princess.”

“I’m sorry, Diavolo,” you said, “but let’s end this.”

A long pause passed before he clarified with uncertainty, “The party?”

“Not that. I meant this—whatever’s between us—let’s end it.”

“What? Why? Have I done something to displease you?” Diavolo interrogated, his entire demeanor shifting into a panicked one. He stepped closer to you, but you retreated and exited the gazebo entirely. It dawned on him: his pursuit would cause you to fall further back. A grim expression on his face, he came to a halt and demanded, “Tell me.”

“No, Diavolo. Far from it,” you confessed with a sad smile. “You’re the Prince of the Devildom, and you’re the most wonderful man I’ve ever met.”

“If so, then what’s the problem?”

“I’m in love with you.”

“And?”

And? That’s all he has to say? you thought bitterly, hurt your confession warranted such a lackluster reaction. “I can’t keep doing this when there’s someone else meant to be by your side.”

Diavolo stiffened. “Someone… else…?”

“Yes. I can’t pretend to be the Queen in the prophecy anymore. I love you. A lot. And it’s hurting me, so please, let’s end this.”

Instead of replying, Diavolo kept quiet.

Unable to take his silence any longer, you averted your gaze and proceeded to wrap up the conversation. “I’ve said what I wanted to say. I’ll attend the party. You’re free to clarify this tonight or I can pretend to be your Queen one last time, whichever works for you. But please make sure to clear up the misunderstanding in the future.”

“You’re under the impression,” he paused and let out a laugh in an icy tone you’d never heard from him before, “that we’re pretending to be together?”

Chills ran down your spine. The question he uttered made you more nervous than you ever were tonight. Diavolo’s deep voice dripped with realization, incredulity, but most of all, rage.

You were in trouble.

“You’re right. There’s been a misunderstanding.” He let out a menacing laugh and strode in your direction. Instinctively, you attempted to put space between the two of you, but he grabbed your wrist and pulled you close to him, wrapping both of his arms around your waist so quickly you didn’t have the chance to step away and flee. “All the times you said you were happy, whenever you told me you were looking forward to seeing me, when you agreed we looked like a great couple, you weren’t lying.”

“I wasn’t,” you acknowledged, your tense body gradually going lax at his touch. The familiar scent of his cologne made your mind hazy as you breathed in. “I’ve been in love with you for a while now. I might have pretended to be your lover, but I’ve been true to you. That’s why we have to end this.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No.” Diavolo bent his head and whispered in your ear, “I never lie, did you know?”

You didn’t.

His words prompted your head to swirl with scenes of your interactions, one of them standing out among the rest.

“So, that day… when Maddi confronted us about the prophecy,” you paused, your eyes wide as you tilted your head to meet his gaze, “y-you meant every word you said?”

“Yes, you’re the one for me. The only one,” he declared, embracing you tighter. “Shall I prove it to you?”

Once the question left his lips, Diavolo’s eyes glowed, and the next thing you knew, the sights around you shifted from the gazebo to the Queen’s closet. He refused to let you go, and you were faintly aware you were in the corner of the room as your hips nudged the wooden edge of the grand vanity table. Fortunately, the surface was vacant since all the cosmetics remained in the drawers, or else they would have already toppled on the floor.

Diavolo asked, “Do you know what’s on your back?”

“How did you—”

“I saw. When we had breakfast together, during that day when you agreed to pretendto be my lover.” His fingers brushed the nape of your neck and slid down to your spine, his large palm resting over your back. “Do you know what’s written here?”

“My soulmark.”

“It’s more special than that.”

“How come?”

“Have you seen it?”

You shook your head. “I’ve never dared to. I don’t like it... and I’m… scared of it.”

“Do you like me?”

“I love you.”

“Are you scared of me?”

“No.”

“If that’s the case, there’s no need for you to dislike or be scared of your mark.”

As he had revealed to you moments ago, Diavolo never lied. You trusted him. If he was certain he was your soulmate, you had nothing to fear. “Okay, but I have to remove my dress, so if you will, the door is that way.”

Diavolo released you with a quiet laugh. A familiar mischievous smile played on his lips, he shook his head. Determinedly, he reasoned, “I can’t afford any more misunderstandings with you.”

Instead of leaving, he moved and settled down a few steps within your reach. He gave you free rein over the space in front of the mirror and crossed his arms, waiting.

Conceding, you sighed and shook your head in exasperation. There was no way you could convince him to leave. You raised your fingers to pull the zipper from your side, but the eyes trained on you were too intense, you almost turned—if not for the fact you’d still see him admiring your actions from the mirror which, strangely, felt more intimate. Averting your gaze, you stripped out of your evening gown. You thought of making your way to the chaise and laying down your outfit on it, but your hands felt too shaky, and your feet felt too cold. The crimson cloth slipped away from your fingers and pooled on the floor.

Donned only in your lingerie, you were exposed, and your back was ready for your revelation. Fear threatened you to put an end to this mess through flight, but your trust and affection for the man standing in front of you led you to fight this fear and face it head-on.

And then, on your own volition, you finally looked at what was imprinted on your back: the soulmark you once resented but now gave you hope and promise.

Once you saw it, you felt grateful for your unknowingly wise decision of hiding it from everyone who asked about it in the human world.

“No way…” you murmured, unable to tear your gaze from your back’s reflection.

Three numbers were written vertically over your spine:

6 6 6

Diavolo approached you, his arm moving past your waist and resting on the table. He tilted his head to the side, and like you, openly gazed at your soulmark’s reflection in the mirror. His fingertip traced over the numbers, one after another, earning a soft gasp from you. “You know what this means, yes?”

You did.

The Devil’s Number.

Devil.

Diavolo.

Speechless, you turned your face and stared at him, tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

“Do you honestly believe I could be this good at pretending to be in love with you?” Diavolo questioned and gave you a kiss on your forehead. “You think too highly of me.”

“Do you really… love me?” you whispered.

“Listen well, my princess,” Diavolo embraced you and stroked your hair. “I love you.”

Tears streamed down your cheeks, dampening his suit, but neither of you cared. “The prophecy…”

“It’s about you.”

“So, all this time…”

He sighed and grimaced. “Yes.”

“Are you still mad at me?”

“I am,” he said, releasing you to wipe your tears with his thumbs. “Don’t think I’m letting you get away with it.”

Diavolo cradled your cheeks and bent his head to kiss you. After you decided to break things off with him, you had accepted you’d never be as close to him as you were before, but here you were. Eyes closed, you basked in his affection, which you now know was true and meant only for you. Despite the anger he admitted to, the sensation of his lips on yours was warm and forgiving. When you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulled him closer, and deepened your kisses, the soft sigh that escaped his lips was all you needed to know he was relieved. It put him at ease that you loved him and weren’t going to leave him. It was a sentiment that mirrored yours.

Breathless, he leaned back and met your heated gaze. The crackling tension between the two of you grew from powerful to electrifying, a telltale sign of a singular ending to this encounter. It was a resolution you never dared to consider when you entered this castle tonight, but it was one you had no complaints about. He needed this—needed you—and you’d be damned if you were going to let this end like it did last time.

“Will you indulge me?” His fingers grazed your mark once more as he took the clasp of your bra between them and unhooked it in one go. “Rather, would you indulge in me, my princess?”

“Here? Now? The celebratory ball is going to start soon,” you teased, tugging his bow tie with your index finger and unfastening it.

“Our unfinished business is more important,” Diavolo reminded you, his suit jacket falling on top of your dress. You unbuttoned his shirt and brushed your lips on his collarbone, the tip of your tongue teasing his exposed skin. He sighed and continued, “You have no idea what you do to me. I’ve wanted you for so long, but it seems my feelings didn’t come across properly. I’ll make it so you’ll never have any doubts about us ever again.”

Diavolo guided you to sit on the dresser and began kissing your neck, freshening the faded lovebites he had made and adding more as he caressed your breasts with his palms and dragged his thumbs over your hardening buds. His ministrations were languid and tender, but every contact with his mouth and fingers left you squirming, eager for him to quicken his pace and pay attention to where you needed him the most.

“When you first arrived here, I just knew… I have to have you all to myself,” he confessed.

As his lips reached your abdomen, Diavolo went down on one knee. To you, he looked like a knight receiving an accolade from his monarch; as if the vanity table was your throne, and he was promising himself to you. Perhaps, it would be more appropriate to liken him to the prince who had finally found his elusive Cinderella. But perhaps not—as unlike that prince, he was removing your high heels and setting them aside. Desire and reverence filled his eyes as he tilted his head and stared at your bare form, your chest rising and falling in anticipation. 

“Now, everyone’s going to know you're mine,” he vowed, hooking your panties at the side and sliding them down your legs, “including you.”

Your mouth parted in a soundless groan as Diavolo kissed the inside of your knees.

“What do you say, my princess?”

Anticipation pooled at the pit of your stomach. A slow, coquettish smile made its way on your lips. Above all else, you wanted him to know you were eager for this as much as he was—that you desired him as much as he desired you. You raised your legs and beckoned him closer by spreading them and letting your calves and feet rest over his wide shoulders. “Show me.”

He smirked, pleased with your answer. Wordlessly, he kissed and nipped at the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs. Tilting his head lower, his warm breath ghosted over the apex of your legs, his lips hovering over your sex. The first swipe of his tongue was gentle. He let you familiarize yourself with the sensation before he licked you where it was the most pleasurable. When he did, the sharp inhale you took didn’t escape his notice. He knew what he was doing, flicking his tongue and sucking at that little bundle of nerves with the right amount of pressure, in the way you never knew you wanted it. His index and middle finger over the sides of your entrance, his tongue plunged inside you. It triggered a sudden movement of your hips, but he held you in place and steadied you with his other hand, his ministrations never faltering, coaxing a diminutive moan out of your lips.

“You hear that?” he murmured, pertaining to the sound the shallow thrust of his middle finger made. Those three words sent a pleasurable wave from his lips to your groin, making you curl your toes and your back arch against the mirror. “We’ve only just begun, and you’re already so wet for me.”

“Stop teasing me so much,” you whined. You reached out to brush his hair and thread your fingers between its strands, but at the quickening pace of his hand, you ended up tugging at his locks instead.

“It’s because you’re holding back,” Diavolo pointed out with a soft chuckle. He peered at your face and waited for your reaction as he added a second—and soon, a third—finger into the mix. “Let me hear you. I know you can be louder than that.”

Even if you wanted to subdue the gratified noises threatening to fill the room, you were helpless against his earnest pursuit of your peak. He pumped his fingers in and out of you over and over, making you cry out as you reveled in the sensation of your release. At a rhythmless pace, your hips shifted against his face once more, only this time he let you ride out and enjoy the most out of your climax.

Diavolo might be all refined, dignified, and gentlemanly, but now that you had brought out the lascivious side of him—the raw and sinful part of him he kept in the dark to many—he was relentless. He straightened his body and licked his damp lips, savoring your taste. It was a look that told you that there was more to come—that he had more to give.

Eyes bleary, you were faintly aware of it as Diavolo stood. You did likewise, albeit unsteadily, and allowed him to turn your body around. With a light press of his palm over your back, he inclined you downward. Your fingers grasped the edge of the table, and the vision of your flushed state connected with your eyes in the glass. Above your likeness, Diavolo’s reflection smirked at you. Then and there, your earlier thoughts about him admiring you from the mirror were proven correct: everything about this was intimate, enthralling, and insanely sensual.

Diavolo pressed his lips on the numbers on your spine, and your legs wobbled as you shivered. He held you by the waist, his torso perfectly fitting over your back as his other hand worked on his trousers and guided himself near your fluttering entrance, the tip touching you but not entering. His lips tickled your ear, and he dragged them across the lobe and tugged at it. With a soft but demanding voice, he urged you, “Say it.”

Still in a daze from your climax but covetous of another, you were ready to do whatever he wanted you to do. “Say what?”

“Say you’re mine.” He nudged his length between your sensitive folds. He felt so good, and you knew he was going to feel even better once he was inside you.

“I’m yours,” you vowed, shifting your lower half to sheathe him. “I’m yours—only yours! Now, please Diavolo!”

He was delivering what he had promised earlier, showing you how you were his. At the same time, you wanted him to show you he was yours, too. Yearning to be connected to him in some way, you turned your head to meet his lips with your own. Instead of replying with words, he slipped his tongue past your mouth and kissed you deeper. He gripped your hips and eased himself inside your core.

Startled, you pulled your lips away and faced forward with a soft gasp. Although you had an idea of his size and girth from your foreplay, he still felt more than you expected. He was only halfway in, and yet, you were already biting your lower lip to suppress a pleasured scream from coming out of you.

His pace was tantalizingly unhurried. Again and again, he drew back and thrust inside you—only to stop midway. 

It was frustrating. You were capable of taking all of him, and you knew it.

“Harder,” you pleaded, “Do it harder… Please!”

With a kiss on your shoulder, he chuckled and replied, “As you wish, my princess.”

He gave you what you asked for and eased himself fully inside you. Once you accommodated his length, your eyes fluttered closed reflexively. Yes, this was it. This was exactly what you needed. Your breath hitched as he slowly drew back until his tip remained in your entrance, and in a second, he plunged inside you again. “Y-Yes, just like… like that.”

Diavolo groaned, increasing his pace. His fingers dug at your hips, and the erotic sound of skin slapping filled your ears. He leaned back and let out a low hum of appreciation as you took every inch of him perfectly. His voice strained and lacking its usual composure, he remarked, “Feels even better than I imagined.”

Well, damn.

The image of him touching himself to the thought of you was enough to make you shudder with arousal, but the pleasure of having him, in reality, was beyond any vision your mind could conjure up. You clenched around him, coaxing a grunt and a loud moan from his parted lips. He gritted his teeth and tightly shut his eyes, the rhythm he had set gradually turning rougher.

“Fuck!” you moaned, “Diavolo, I… I-I’m gonna—”

He sensed it. His pace refused to falter, and you reached your climax within seconds. You witnessed how much of a mess you turned to in the mirror, but you couldn’t care less. It was Diavolo who made you this way, after all. Your arms and legs gave out as you shuddered, but he readily caught you before you could fall to the ground. 

Diavolo unsheathed himself from you and returned you to your seated position. He kissed your hair and shifted his lips near your ear. “More?”

“Y-Yes.”

Gently, he held one of your legs up and propped your ankle on his shoulder. His other hand clamped over your bent knee. He entered your slick heat, and this time, you were able to accommodate him at once.

“You’re taking me so well,” he praised, his golden eyes following the movement as he thrust in and out of you. “Good girl.”

For the third time tonight, he drove you over the edge, but your earlier climax caused your current race to the peak to be agonizing. You feel it dangling over you, but at the same time, it was out of your reach. Distressed, you exclaimed, “I can’t!”

“You can,” he countered, giving it to you harder, “and you will.”

The fervor in his promise remained inexorable, and the tremor in his voice hinted at his impending climax.

You grabbed his wrist and shifted your leg downward, determined. He realized what you were trying to do as you held your arms up and wrapped your legs around his hips. Chuckling, he lifted you up with ease and held you in his arms firmly. You threaded your fingers through his hair and kissed him. He gripped your thighs and slid you up and down his length, returning to the rough momentum you had moments ago in sought of the heat the both of you had built up.

Little by little, his pace turned uneven. His breathing was labored and warm against your skin. 

“I want to see you come,” you told him. The familiar coil in your abdomen unfurling, your voice grew louder as you cried out, “Fill me up, Diavolo. You’re mine.”

As soon as you said those words, euphoria washed over every fiber of your being. This was the highest you’d ever felt, and you were certain no feeling could compare to this. No other being could compare to him. Diavolo was the only one for you.

In a split second, his jaw slackened and his eyes closed, groaning unabashedly and calling out your name. He continued thrusting inside you, never sliding out he chased his own peak. Trembling, he throbbed and filled you up as you asked, the warm and wet liquid dribbling down the inside of your thighs with his final thrust.

Panting, the two of you remained still as you came down from your respective highs.

It was you who broke the silence a few moments later. “I love you.”

He smiled and stroked your hair. “I love you too, my princess.”

The tender moment was shattered by the sudden increase of temperature on your back. Pain derived from your soulmark and spread over to your shoulders and hips. It rapidly grew hotter until it was sweltering. Your whole body felt as if it was on fire. You couldn’t take it any longer.

“Diavolo!” you cried, “My back—it’s burning!”

The touch of his bare skin was comforting, and somehow, his presence alleviated the agony. However, the invisible fire grew more intense. You could do nothing but let out a scream on his shoulder and cling to him.

Diavolo hooked one of his arms under your knees and carried you to the connecting bathroom. He placed you in the bathtub and made sure your head rested on the area gently. As the cold water rose and filled the tub, he caressed your forearm and held your hand reassuringly.

Your throat felt parched, you couldn’t say anything although you longed to. 

He cupped your cheek and wiped the tears you were unaware you were shedding. “Shhh… It’ll be alright. I’m here. Don’t worry about anything. I’ll stay with you and...”

Before you could hear the rest of Diavolo’s words of comfort, everything had gone black.

Vivid visions of the past filled your dreams one after another. You had long heard of people having their life flash before their eyes before they pass away. Was this it? Were you dying? You hoped not. The images blurred and turned ambiguous as the heat you felt subsided.

And then, you returned to the waking world. Alive.

The cool wind from the open terrace doors nipped at your skin. Except for your exposed back, the rest of your body was warm, enveloped by the calming embrace of the man laying underneath you.

You slowly opened your eyes and blinked.

Diavolo turned his head to look at you. “You’re awake.”

Your fingers reached the fabric of the sleeveless nightdress you were wearing. Vaguely, you recognize it as one of the items in the closet next door. It was your first time wearing it.

“I dressed you. I hope you don’t mind,” Diavolo said.

“It’s fine.” You had shared more intimate moments to be embarrassed about something like that; it almost felt trivial. “Thank you for staying and taking care of me.”

“Of course.”

“What time is it?”

“Almost midnight. How are you feeling?”

Abruptly, you sat bolt upright. “Wait, what? And the celebratory ball?”

“It’s still ongoing, but you have nothing to worry about. More importantly, does your back still hurt?”

“No,” you replied after a brief pause, surprised at your own observation. You stretched your shoulders and bent your arm to reach over the small of your back to check. “It’s as if nothing happened.”

“Something did, actually. Something very important,” Diavolo informed you, his tone full of seriousness. “Your mark changed.”

“What do you mean it changed?”

It was the first time you heard of a soulmark morphing into another shape or form. Appearances of soulmarks were rare enough. As you mulled it over, however, you were quick to overcome the disbelief. When all was said and done, you and Diavolo were far from a regular pair of lovers. 

Diavolo sat up and took your hand in his. “Come, look.”

The spark of excitement and delight in his demeanor piqued your curiosity. His eagerness, though contagious, was patient. He led you to the bathroom at the pace you were most comfortable with. Given the events that transpired earlier, the last thing he wanted was to insist you advance quicker and push yourself too hard.

A giant mirror rested over the sink. Unlike before, you had no qualms nor nervous sentiments about looking over your back. The nightdress made it easy for you to see what Diavolo was talking about.

“This is…”

“My sigil.”

You face Diavolo with a quiet smile.

“Do you still have doubts about me? About us?” he asked.

“No… I’m sorry.” You take his hand in yours once more. “For the record, I don’t think I ever will again.”

“Good to know.”

“Why didn’t you tell me right away? You said you suspected it from the first day we met. I think there’s a possibility Barbatos knew of it as well.”

“Yes, it was the first time I felt so drawn to someone, but while I had my suspicions, I was only able to confirm them during that day, at the House of Lamentation,” he revealed, squeezing your hand. “As for Barbatos, I asked him not to look into anything relating to the prophecy and you, or at least, not to inform me if he sees anything—except if you would be in danger. I wanted things between us to progress naturally. Was that overly selfish of me?”

“Not at all. I’m glad we were able to get through this together, just the two of us,” you replied, endeared by his intention of pursuing a relationship with you in the most normal and genuine way he could. “I didn’t act upon it because I never thought it would be possible, but I… felt drawn to you from the first day, too.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes,” you admitted and glanced at the door. “Is it too late for us to attend the party? I bet everyone is worried.”

“Are you feeling fine enough?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” He nodded, his expression shifting into an amused one. “I think our previous outfits are wrinkled, though.”

You laughed. “I think so, too.”

“Why don’t you choose another one from your closet? You know, I was wondering why you’re always so hesitant to accept gifts from me.”

“Sorry about that,” you replied with sincerity. “This time, I accept the offer wholeheartedly. Thank you for everything. I mean it.”

“You’re welcome, my princess.”

As a final touch, you swiped a layer of red lipstick over your lips and closed the container with a snap. You leaned back and observed your reflection in the mirror. Even though your choice of lip color was bold, you opted for light makeup and went with the natural flushing of your cheeks. You couldn’t help the blood heating up your face at the reminder of your earlier escapades with Diavolo. Undoubtedly, you would never be able to look at this vanity table in the same way ever again. 

Gold jewelry adorned your ears and wrists. The intricate lace pattern of the sleeves and neckline of the black evening gown you were wearing was exquisite to your touch. The full expanse of your back was bare, laid in the open for all to see. While you were unused to such clothing, the impending revelation of your fate for all of the three worlds to witness felt right. All in all, it was a quick ensemble you arranged, but it was elegant. You were more satisfied than you were earlier when you first dressed up for the celebratory ball—in more ways than one.

“All done?” Diavolo asked, standing up from the chaise and putting his D.D.D. inside his pocket. He was in his demon form, as everyone else would be except for your friends from Purgatory Hall, for your ceremonial dance at the end of the celebration. It would be the only event you would be able to attend at this point, but it was the most important one, marking the end of Diavolo’s search and the beginning of your new role.

“Yes.”

He stepped forward and offered you his arm. “Shall we, my princess?”

Wordlessly, you smiled and slipped your hand in his arm as affirmation. This time, you had no guilt nor doubt. Your relationship with him was as real as it could get. You were the prophesied Queen of the Devildom. Soon, he would be your King.

Diavolo was your fate and your choice. And you were his.

Bound by destiny are the Prince and the Princess.

Over her skin, his symbol shall appear and remain.

And with the whole Devildom as their witness,

King and Queen, they shall be; eternal, they will reign.

Notes: And that’s a wrap!

This fic began with the idea of a character having ‘666’ as a soulmark. It was the first time I posted a work that was still in progress, and I’m really grateful for all the kind comments and feedback I received along the way. Thank you to everyone who supported this story. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! 💖

See No Evil, Hear No Evil, Speak No Evil

Obey Me! Masterlist | Main Masterlist

[cappymightwrite]

What are your thoughts on Ned Stark ?

Hi!

I have conflicted feelings on Ned. Probably just below Stannis, he's the Westerosi man most in need of therapy, in my opinion. Actually, that's an interesting comparison — Ned and Stannis, which I know has been commented on before. They're alike in many ways, in terms of reserve etc., which makes the fact that Robert saw Ned as his true brother all the more painful to Stannis (though of course this is never explicitly stated). But anyway, back to Ned.

There's certain things I struggle with in regards to Ned, even though I understand the reasoning behind his actions, or rather, inaction. So, it makes thinking back on him in a wholly positive and fond light somewhat difficult, as I suppose it must be for Sansa in a way, as well as for Jon, once his parentage is revealed. I don't wholly dislike him though, I actually value him a lot, I just take issue with:

Him never apparently trusting Catelyn enough to be honest about Jon's parentage (+ the way he avoids telling Jon, to some extent)

No matter how loving they were... there is this unresolved (and now forever unresolved) barrier at the heart of their relationship, an unequal exchange of trust, which was within Ned's power to lift, to make fully mutual. But he didn't. Now, he had his reasons, self-sacrificing and seemingly honourable as they may appear, and certainly the narrative required this secret to be kept. But even so, in terms of how I regard his character? It rubs me the wrong way because he never gave her the opportunity to sympathise and fully understand him, he cut himself off from that. And yeah, maybe it might not have improved Jon's situation all that much, but he never gave Cat the opportunity to think of him differently, in a way that wasn't dictated by the social mores of their world:

It had taken her a fortnight to marshal her courage, but finally, in bed one night, Catelyn had asked her husband the truth of it, asked him to his face.

That was the only time in all their years that Ned had ever frightened her. "Never ask me about Jon," he said, cold as ice. "He is my blood, and that is all you need to know. And now I will learn where you heard that name, my lady." She had pledged to obey; she told him; and from that day on, the whispering had stopped, and Ashara Dayne's name was never heard in Winterfell again.

Whoever Jon's mother had been, Ned must have loved her fiercely, for nothing Catelyn said would persuade him to send the boy away. It was the one thing she could never forgive him. She had come to love her husband with all her heart, but she had never found it in her to love Jon. She might have overlooked a dozen bastards for Ned's sake, so long as they were out of sight. Jon was never out of sight, and as he grew, he looked more like Ned than any of the trueborn sons she bore him. Somehow that made it worse. – AGOT, Catelyn II

"It was the one thing she could never forgive him" — yeah, me too honey! Ok, sure, we don't know for sure if Cat might have "overlooked" Jon's uneasy place in their household "for Ned's sake", if she knew he was actually her nephew — the world would still believe him to be Ned's, so to outward appearances the awkwardness is still there. And yeah, we don't know if she could have "found it in her to love Jon", but the truth certainly would have made it far more likely! But Ned decided that it had to be this way, that only he could participate in carrying this secret. So, I hurt for Cat AND Jon really.

I get why he doesn't tell Jon the truth. I understand his warped logic, how the trauma of his past informs this sort of self-punishing mentality of I must keep this honourable promise made of love till the day I die even though to the outside world it will appear as a stain upon that very honour... and to punish myself further for failing Lyanna I will never unburden myself to anyone, this is my cross to bear alone. I understand that, it's very manpain-y. But the problem is... it doesn't just punish Ned, it punishes Cat and Jon, and his other children too! Because they are by no means blind to this elephant in the room of their parent's marriage, and it's hard to rationalise:

He looked at her uncomfortably. "My aunt Allyria says Lady Ashara and your father fell in love at Harrenhal—"

"That's not so. He loved my lady mother." – ASOS, Arya VIII

Your father loved your mother, but he also had a child with another woman, whose identity he would never talk about. Your father loved your mother, but his dedication to this secret ultimately trumped being fully honest and open with her. It's hard not to feel that Ned's present came second to making up for the "sins" of his past. This is why he desperately needed therapy, lol, because (to take a line from my Byronic Hero meta) Ned's "traumatic past informs his present life," and to the detriment of that present life and those present relationships as well. But hey, that's the tragedy.

Also, I think his whole I'll tell you the truth when I next see you to Jon is really sketchy, because when exactly might that be, Ned? An avoidance tactic if I ever saw one. But really, I don't think he'd be emotionally equipped to have that conversation anyway... he might have said he'd tell him someday, but deep down, I'm sure he hoped he may never have to. And then he conveniently dies, taking the secret with him (or so we think)!

Allowing the death of Lady

Bran's wolf had saved the boy's life, he thought dully. What was it that Jon had said when they found the pups in the snow? Your children were meant to have these pups, my lord. And he had killed Sansa's, and for what? Was it guilt he was feeling? Or fear? If the gods had sent these wolves, what folly had he done? – AGOT, Eddard IV

"And for what?" Yes, quite. I don't really have much to say on this... I think this passage speaks for itself. There's probably some other things I could talk about, but those are my main two gripes.

That being said... what I value about Ned are his words of wisdom

The thing about Ned, for me, is that despite the unmaliciously meant pain he inflicts on his loved ones (which I do understand the reasoning behind, the trauma that informs it etc)... he's still ultimately a figure of hope to me, a notably flawed, but no less significant, ideal within the narrative too. And I think you need that — we need the memory of Ned as readers, and so do the Starklings. So, I love him more for what he represents, rather than his parenting and lacklustre husbanding skills. I value the fundamental truths he emphasises through his words, and the legacy of those words, embodied within his children.

For example:

"Let me tell you something about wolves, child. When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives. Summer is the time for squabbles. In winter, we must protect one another, keep each other warm, share our strengths. So if you must hate, Arya, hate those who would truly do us harm. Septa Mordane is a good woman, and Sansa… Sansa is your sister. You may be as different as the sun and the moon, but the same blood flows through both your hearts. You need her, as she needs you… and I need both of you, gods help me." – AGOT, Arya II

Honestly, people can "squabble" about which Stark sibling is more important, more this, more that, till the cows come home. But that's what it is... "squabbles", and it misses the mark completely about why the Starks are the heart of the series. They are the Starks, plural. They may be different from one another, but they are "pack", and come winter, (TWOW, to be exact), once reunited they will "protect one another, keep each other warm, share [their] strengths", because those are the values Ned taught them.

These are the things to remember, despite all the hellishness. This is why Ned's death wasn't in vain, it wasn't an edgy twist, or the first whiff of grimdark... because his legacy didn't end with him, it lives on, it is felt throughout the series, right up until the most recent book:

"Be that as it may. My father sat where I sit now when Lord Eddard came to Sisterton. Our maester urged us to send Stark's head to Aerys, to prove our loyalty. It would have meant a rich reward. The Mad King was open-handed with them as pleased him. By then we knew that Jon Arryn had taken Gulltown, though. Robert was the first man to gain the wall, and slew Marq Grafton with his own hand. 'This Baratheon is fearless,' I said. 'He fights the way a king should fight.' Our maester chuckled at me and told us that Prince Rhaegar was certain to defeat this rebel. That was when Stark said, 'In this world only winter is certain. We may lose our heads, it's true… but what if we prevail?' My father sent him on his way with his head still on his shoulders. 'If you lose,' he told Lord Eddard, 'you were never here.'" – ADWD, Davos I

I love this line so much, and I love that it comes from Ned, that just as we are gearing up to head into the darkest parts of the series (because Winds is apparently going to be very dark)... we have this light, this hope, this "what if we prevail?" And it's connected to this repeated refrain about the certainty of winter — "in this world only winter is certain" vs. "winter is coming" — which is closely tied to Ned as a character. So, yes, "winter is coming", but don't be decieved into thinking that that spells disaster, that no warmth can be found, for there is always darkness before the dawn, just as there is always a winter before the spring... and in the winter the wolves shall "keep each other warm", they will "prevail."

In conclusion

Whatever his flaws and mistakes, and there are several, at the end of the day... I will love Ned for giving us hope, for reminding the readers, and characters, of what is really important — to take strength from your loved ones, to give them strength in return, and to not give into despair, no matter how harshly the snows might fall and white winds blow. Yes, it's not certain whether they'll live, but likewise, it's not certain whether they'll die either... and that's where you find the hope, the light against the grim dark.

So, for me, he's a character who makes my heart sink, but then he makes it swell again. That's the duality, and it's a choice which you put most stock in... I'll choose the hope he inspires every time ;)

[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

With Your Hands on Me Like This

I have to go be a grocery store manager so if y’all want to cheer me up, I’d love a comment or some fun tags!

we all love a good soulmate au right?

---

There has always been a wide handprint around Jaskier’s upper arm, laid against his skin in buttercup-yellow. The owner of the hand has large fingers and a broad palm. It has been there since he was born, the only clue as to who his heart may someday belong to. 

Jaskier doesn’t know whether or not this handprint comes from a rough embrace or a gentle caress. Perhaps he’s going to be manhandled. Perhaps he’s going to be held still (he does tend to roam and bounce and sway). Perhaps he’s being thrown or tossed or... or perhaps he is being held tenderly, braced for a kiss even (Jaskier has always been rather romantic at heart).

He’s half in love and half terrified of the man (for clearly it is a man’s hand) he’s meant to spend forever with. The person whose soul mirrors his perfectly. The person whose side he shall never leave just as soon as he manages to find him.

He attends university at Oxenfurt. He graduates with honors. He begins to travel. He flirts with farmhands and soldiers and sailors and none of them ever let their hands circle his upper arm. None of them ever hit the mark.

And he never hits any of theirs.

---

Geralt is nearing 60 years of life when the marks suddenly appear on his skin. It’s the middle of the night, sometime in the spring, when he feels an odd tingling on the left side of his chest and against his right shoulder. He slides from his rented bed and lights a candle, peering at himself in the tarnished hand mirror of his inn room. 

There is a pale blue handprint spanning his left pectoral, right over his heart. 

A soul bond? For a Witcher? 

It seems impossible, yet here is the proof. 

He tilts his head to observe the second part of the mark and his yellow eyes widen in shock and surprise: there’s an imprint of two lips, right at the juncture where his neck meets his shoulder. A kiss. Someday, someone will see him and their first instinct will not be to run. 

A soulmate who’s soft...for a Witcher? Who would willingly kiss and caress a man only barely less hated than the beasts he slays? Who could it possibly be?

---

The bard is persistent, Geralt discovers. His name is Jaskier and he has wide blue eyes, such a strangely familiar shade that it rattles the Witcher’s heart in his chest the first time they lock gazes. The boy follows him everywhere, careful to keep out of harm’s way for the most part. He babbles and laughs and sings and fills Geralt’s Path with light and noise and joy. 

Jaskier’s presence becomes less of a novelty and more of a constant; they become companions, perhaps even close friends.

It’s unfamiliar. 

It’s dangerous.

It has to end before Geralt can really hurt this person. This gloriously open and kind and courageous person who tells him day-in and day-out what a glorious, lovable, and worthwhile person the Witcher is. He has to do it for Jaskier. Buttercup. The only bright bloom in the Witcher’s otherwise dim existence. 

---

They’re tracking down a lone wyvern when it finally happens. A screech in the darkness has Geralt on the defensive, and he wraps his hand firmly around Jaskier’s upper arm in case he needs to pull the younger man to safety.

The bard nearly faints. Nearly swoons. Could it really be? Could it really be that the sweet, quiet Witcher who’s already stolen his heart...is also his soulmate?

He can’t control his movements. He slams forward, pressing his free hand over the Witcher’s heart and burying his face against Geralt’s neck. He presses a nervous kiss to the heated, half-hidden skin and panics immediately: “Geralt! Oh gods, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me I-”

The Witcher silences him with kiss. 

That deep, rumbly voice murmurs, “It’s you.”

“Yes,” Jaskier replies. Their words are barely whispers. Their eyes fill with matching tears of joy and relief. “Oh, thank gods, Geralt. I already loved you.”

“I can’t believe -” Geralt kisses him again, to be sure that it’s really happening, and sighs when Jaskier smiles up at him with a wide, dopey grin, “I can’t believe that a Witcher could be so lucky.”

“Oh, my wolf,” Jaskier kisses him again. And again. “My glorious, handsome, beautiful White Wolf.”

They never do find that wyvern.