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The Offering by Theodoros Ralli (19th Century)

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Their lips met once more, passionate and intense this time. Their bickering and teasing was the fuse, and their admissions of love the spark that lit it. The sputtering fire of their affections swam behind their eyes until it reached its end, pulling them together in a final detonation of desire and need.

Ciel's eyes shut tightly, his hands tangled in a mess of blond hair he used to pull Alois impossibly close to him. His knees squeezed into the other's hips, trapping their bodies together. The world around them fell silent, all but for the muffled crashing of waves against the sides of the ship and the huffs of breath that escaped them between each kiss.

Portraits of the Past

The news spread like wildfire. Throughout all of London and leaking through crevices into every part of the country were newspapers detailing rumors that seemingly appeared out of thin air. Every citizen, rich or poor, had heard the whispers and seen his face in the papers, and heard his name shouted by newsboys who were selling their papers with ease.

    “The Earl Of Phantomhive: Family Secrets Uncovered! What Else Is The Young Lord Hiding?”

    Ciel Phantomhive had shut himself away in his manor, per the recommendations of his butler, Sebastian. Despite his love for chaos and turmoil his master was in danger now, and what was more, he had failed when instructed to destroy all evidence of that little boy’s family all those years ago. So, to keep him safe, he hid him away while they pondered what to do about the situation. With everyone wondering about the Phantomhive Earl and his lack of public appearances since the news was made public, dozens of letters came to the manor each day. From all sorts of persons came letters asking if he was well, demanding to know if the rumors were true, or begging for some sort of interview and swearing speaking to them would save his reputation. Each letter met the same fate in the hot fireplace of the Earl’s study.

    One document was all it took to uproot everything Ciel Phantomhive had built for himself. They were birth records- perhaps they were copies or something merely overlooked, but they detailed the births of two twin boys by his late parents. On December 14th, 1875 two twin sons were born to the noble family of Vincent and Rachel Phantomhive. Ciel and his brother, whom he had tried so desperately to forget, despite only seeing him each time he looked in the mirror.

    And so, the Earl did the only thing he believed he could do- plot. For a week he imagined how the situation grew worse outside his home, how the vast amount of people who had heard the news was only getting larger. Walking aimlessly between his bedroom and his study, clothes untucked and wrinkles and disheveled, he plotted. He searched for an excuse, or some way to deny the rumors. He thought of Elizabeth, who knew his brother. He thought of Alois, who he feared now despised him. He maintained a list of each person he thought could have been behind the leaking of the document, of each person he may have wronged in his life. The list was long.

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Their lips met once more, passionate and intense this time. Their bickering and teasing was the fuse, and their admissions of love the spark that lit it. The sputtering fire of their affections swam behind their eyes until it reached its end, pulling them together in a final detonation of desire and need.

Ciel's eyes shut tightly, his hands tangled in a mess of blond hair he used to pull Alois impossibly close to him. His knees squeezed into the other's hips, trapping their bodies together. The world around them fell silent, all but for the muffled crashing of waves against the sides of the ship and the huffs of breath that escaped them between each kiss.

Portraits of the Past

The news spread like wildfire. Throughout all of London and leaking through crevices into every part of the country were newspapers detailing rumors that seemingly appeared out of thin air. Every citizen, rich or poor, had heard the whispers and seen his face in the papers, and heard his name shouted by newsboys who were selling their papers with ease.

    “The Earl Of Phantomhive: Family Secrets Uncovered! What Else Is The Young Lord Hiding?”

    Ciel Phantomhive had shut himself away in his manor, per the recommendations of his butler, Sebastian. Despite his love for chaos and turmoil his master was in danger now, and what was more, he had failed when instructed to destroy all evidence of that little boy’s family all those years ago. So, to keep him safe, he hid him away while they pondered what to do about the situation. With everyone wondering about the Phantomhive Earl and his lack of public appearances since the news was made public, dozens of letters came to the manor each day. From all sorts of persons came letters asking if he was well, demanding to know if the rumors were true, or begging for some sort of interview and swearing speaking to them would save his reputation. Each letter met the same fate in the hot fireplace of the Earl’s study.

    One document was all it took to uproot everything Ciel Phantomhive had built for himself. They were birth records- perhaps they were copies or something merely overlooked, but they detailed the births of two twin boys by his late parents. On December 14th, 1875 two twin sons were born to the noble family of Vincent and Rachel Phantomhive. Ciel and his brother, whom he had tried so desperately to forget, despite only seeing him each time he looked in the mirror.

    And so, the Earl did the only thing he believed he could do- plot. For a week he imagined how the situation grew worse outside his home, how the vast amount of people who had heard the news was only getting larger. Walking aimlessly between his bedroom and his study, clothes untucked and wrinkles and disheveled, he plotted. He searched for an excuse, or some way to deny the rumors. He thought of Elizabeth, who knew his brother. He thought of Alois, who he feared now despised him. He maintained a list of each person he thought could have been behind the leaking of the document, of each person he may have wronged in his life. The list was long.

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Web Sculpture by Ann Carrington

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“ in the end, we’ll all become stories, ”

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alixelay

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Ciel pulled his head forward to gaze down at Alois, his eyes finding the darkened scar tissue still staining his abdomen. He was right, it hadn't faded- not completely, anyway.

Phantomhive couldn't recall how many times he had apologized for what he did, just as he couldn't recall how many nightmares he had since that day, ones forcing him to relive the moment he nearly killed the man he loved.

It wasn't worth saying it anymore. He knew it would do no good. It wouldn't change anything. No matter how hard the two young men tried to scrub the stains tainting the fabric of their pasts, they would never fully fade. Like a scar.

Ciel reached down, cupping the blond’s cheeks and gently pulling him up to meet face to face. Their lips brushed against each other's, light breaths of excited air fanning back and forth. "I love you," Ciel spoke softly, offering the words like a vow at the alter.

Portraits of the Past

The news spread like wildfire. Throughout all of London and leaking through crevices into every part of the country were newspapers detailing rumors that seemingly appeared out of thin air. Every citizen, rich or poor, had heard the whispers and seen his face in the papers, and heard his name shouted by newsboys who were selling their papers with ease.

    “The Earl Of Phantomhive: Family Secrets Uncovered! What Else Is The Young Lord Hiding?”

    Ciel Phantomhive had shut himself away in his manor, per the recommendations of his butler, Sebastian. Despite his love for chaos and turmoil his master was in danger now, and what was more, he had failed when instructed to destroy all evidence of that little boy’s family all those years ago. So, to keep him safe, he hid him away while they pondered what to do about the situation. With everyone wondering about the Phantomhive Earl and his lack of public appearances since the news was made public, dozens of letters came to the manor each day. From all sorts of persons came letters asking if he was well, demanding to know if the rumors were true, or begging for some sort of interview and swearing speaking to them would save his reputation. Each letter met the same fate in the hot fireplace of the Earl’s study.

    One document was all it took to uproot everything Ciel Phantomhive had built for himself. They were birth records- perhaps they were copies or something merely overlooked, but they detailed the births of two twin boys by his late parents. On December 14th, 1875 two twin sons were born to the noble family of Vincent and Rachel Phantomhive. Ciel and his brother, whom he had tried so desperately to forget, despite only seeing him each time he looked in the mirror.

    And so, the Earl did the only thing he believed he could do- plot. For a week he imagined how the situation grew worse outside his home, how the vast amount of people who had heard the news was only getting larger. Walking aimlessly between his bedroom and his study, clothes untucked and wrinkles and disheveled, he plotted. He searched for an excuse, or some way to deny the rumors. He thought of Elizabeth, who knew his brother. He thought of Alois, who he feared now despised him. He maintained a list of each person he thought could have been behind the leaking of the document, of each person he may have wronged in his life. The list was long.

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Ciel huffed, eyes closed and brows furrowed as the touch of Alois' lips left his flushed skin. His eyes remained closed, his mind focused, as though desperately fighting off all other thoughts in order to hold onto this feeling, this lust and love, despite the annoyance of the other's teasing ways.

"I'd kill for you, Alois," He breathed out, his fingers clenching around the blond hair between them. "If any of those men downstairs touched you, I'd round them up like cattle and see them slaughtered.. If someone stole you from me, I'd burn the whole of England rather than accept it.." Ciel paused then, his eyes fluttering open though remaining pointed at the ceiling above him, as though a new realization had come to him. He swallowed hard before voicing it aloud. "I'd let you run your sword through me, if it came to it.."

Portraits of the Past

The news spread like wildfire. Throughout all of London and leaking through crevices into every part of the country were newspapers detailing rumors that seemingly appeared out of thin air. Every citizen, rich or poor, had heard the whispers and seen his face in the papers, and heard his name shouted by newsboys who were selling their papers with ease.

    “The Earl Of Phantomhive: Family Secrets Uncovered! What Else Is The Young Lord Hiding?”

    Ciel Phantomhive had shut himself away in his manor, per the recommendations of his butler, Sebastian. Despite his love for chaos and turmoil his master was in danger now, and what was more, he had failed when instructed to destroy all evidence of that little boy’s family all those years ago. So, to keep him safe, he hid him away while they pondered what to do about the situation. With everyone wondering about the Phantomhive Earl and his lack of public appearances since the news was made public, dozens of letters came to the manor each day. From all sorts of persons came letters asking if he was well, demanding to know if the rumors were true, or begging for some sort of interview and swearing speaking to them would save his reputation. Each letter met the same fate in the hot fireplace of the Earl’s study.

    One document was all it took to uproot everything Ciel Phantomhive had built for himself. They were birth records- perhaps they were copies or something merely overlooked, but they detailed the births of two twin boys by his late parents. On December 14th, 1875 two twin sons were born to the noble family of Vincent and Rachel Phantomhive. Ciel and his brother, whom he had tried so desperately to forget, despite only seeing him each time he looked in the mirror.

    And so, the Earl did the only thing he believed he could do- plot. For a week he imagined how the situation grew worse outside his home, how the vast amount of people who had heard the news was only getting larger. Walking aimlessly between his bedroom and his study, clothes untucked and wrinkles and disheveled, he plotted. He searched for an excuse, or some way to deny the rumors. He thought of Elizabeth, who knew his brother. He thought of Alois, who he feared now despised him. He maintained a list of each person he thought could have been behind the leaking of the document, of each person he may have wronged in his life. The list was long.

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Tulips, Hyacinths, Daffodils, Poppies, Lily Of The Valley, Anenemes, Jonquils, second quarter of the 17th century 

Jacopo Ligozzi and Ulisse Aldrovandi

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Hii !! I’m a big fan of your work, « What Lies Ahead » on AO3, I’ve been following this story since years, It is so important to me honestly, I’m so glad about all your work. Since It’s not updated since a long time, I’d like to ask you If you gave up on this story..! EExcuse my bad english🙏🙏

Hello!

Oh my goodness, thank you for this message! It's so nice to hear that people are enjoying the story. I can confirm we have not given up on the story! My writing partner and I are still working on chapters bit by bit, but between both of us living overseas in different countries, it's been hard to find time to write.

I'll try to provide an update on AO3 soon, even if it's small!

Thank you so much for your support!

~malinda

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#Diana #art_details

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Hi I'm judy, a queer arab illustrator who loves painting lush environments and tender characters 🌾💗

You can find my links and support my work here!: Patreon • Twitter • Prints • Commissions • Kofi

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Richard siken / dave eggers

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Alcide-Théophile Robaudi (detail)

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Thomas Edwin Mostyn (English, 1864-1930)

Garden Romance