scarletwritesshit

[scarletwritesshit]

For the next behind the scenes, we are continuing with Scarlet (@scarletwritesshit)! In addition to Fuuka, she is writing the Compendium piece for Shinjiro Aragaki!

[scarletwritesshit]

we're doing fine after wiege

very very fine our mental health has Never Been Better we are Thriving out here

since the release of Wiege, Alien Stage now holds the title for having the longest fanfiction in the ENTIRETY of ao3. make of that what you will

[scarletwritesshit]

Next up for behind the scenes is the amazing Scarlet: @scarletwritesshit. She is responsible for writing the Fuuka Yamagishi Compendium piece!

[scarletwritesshit]

working on some things behind the scenes this week but ill always make some time for okami 👀

✮ twitch - scarlet_nevermore

✮ bird app - @/crowdrxgon

✮ bluesky - crowdrxgon.bsky.social

✮strawpage - scarletnevermore.straw.page

[scarletwritesshit]

Louis Guiabern x Will🐍One Last Dance

🐍IX. Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Count will be with you wherever you go

Louis flung the doors of the inn open as if he owned the place. He might as well, given all of the money, if not blatant authority, he had. The doors almost bounced back and hit Will in the face from the sheer amount of force Louis used to open them. He wouldn’t have even seen it coming, as his eyes were still adjusting to the early morning sunlight.

It was too early to deal with his shit. Way too early for this.

"Isn’t this place most spectacular?" Louis said. "The breeze blowing in is refreshing, there is not a cloud in sight in the sky, and the ocean air is crisp and fresh!"

"It’s… great," Will said, rubbing his eyes.

"Oh, wake up little one," Louis said, giving Will a pat on his back. "Much awaits us on this fair afternoon."

"Isn’t today the day of the tournament? I thought that you didn’t care."

"So it is. The streets will be bare for us to roam with minimal interruption."

"And isn’t Junah performing at the ceremony? Are we not going to see her?"

"Basilio and Fidelio are accompanying her. In truth, I could care less."

Now Will was simply baffled, his lingering sleepiness not helping. "But, aren’t you two-"

"Nonsense. I only keep that pretty little songbird in a cage to sing me a melody when I desire."

So I have a chance, Will thought, his heart jumping out of his chest.

…A chance at what, exactly?

"That’s a little cruel if you’d ask me," Will commented.

"The agreement upon the terms of her stay was mutual. I permitted her to accompany me if I found her singing appealing. It was...acceptable, so I allowed her to join the ranks."

"Acceptable? The people seem to love her."

"I never was one for celebrities. But she keeps the peoples’ spirits high and favor in me, so I suppose who am I to care?"

Louis continued to insist apathy on the subject matter. He seemed to be long done with the conversation before it even started. It was probably because Junah was nothing more than one of many pawns to him, Will concluded. In his best interest, he decided to simply drop the conversation and let the topic go.

"...What has you up at such an early hour?" Will asked.

"Preparations for the soiree must be set in motion, but it is such a pleasantly quiet morning that I would be wrong to not take advantage of it for a leisurely stroll."

Will looked out in the direction of the coliseum. A densely packed line extending beyond the line was already formed of people waiting to get in. Either people cared that much about the tournament or they simply caught wind of Lady Junah being present. Or they just liked a spectacle. Regardless, Louis was unfortunately right about the streets being dead silent. A petty thing for Will to want to disagree on, but there was no way possible for him to without making a circus out of himself.

As they strolled through the barren streets, a few curious onlookers turned their heads towards them. They couldn’t help but stare, directly and out of the corner of their eyes, and Will did his best to shy away from eye contact. Louis was unbothered and walked tall and proud, long used to such gazes being casted upon him.

He nudged Will closer and kept him close to his side as they walked, as if to say, "this dog belongs to me, and me alone." A point Will had no interest in arguing at the moment.

Minor side-eyes and crowded arena aside, it was a most peaceful morning. The air of calm was suffocated only by the presence of that pretentious bitch right next to him. He wasn’t sure when he would once again experience the light of day free of any such burdens, especially once the crowds came pouring back into the street. The weight of his presence made it a bit difficult for Will to track down Gallica and his group without alluding too much to his intentions. If Louis was truly that fond of him, then perhaps he would be more than happy to oblige to one little request.

"...May we make one stop along the way before preparations are due?" Will asked.

"Hm? Where to?"

"To the docks. It’s not really important if you can’t make it, though."

"For a little bit of gazing at the sea? I do have time to spare for you, if that is what you wish."

Sure. Let’s go with that. Will just wanted a chance to see if his friends’ gauntlet runner just so happened to be stationed nearby.

The view of Louis's gauntlet runner overshadowed most of what there could possibly be to look at. Thankfully, it wasn’t the sea that Will was scouting out, but that big hunk of metal was still quite the eyesore nonetheless. He to look around the best he could, avoiding the attention of Louis, but all that he saw were the runners of the other teams. Did they fail the mission? It was just as likely that they’ve regrouped elsewhere to formulate a different plan now Will was gaining Louis's favor so easily. None of them had interest in running for the throne themselves, either. With that being said, it had occurred to Will that he sent Gallica away for the sole purpose of tracking them down to exchange updates on both sides. And it was likely that she would not return for quite some time.

A problem that persisted was the chance of Louis inquiring about her absence. The distaste for each other was mutual, so it was unlikely that he would be majorly concerned with her whereabouts. Never minding that issue, Will continued scanning the area around him on the off chance that he would catch a glimpse of a comfortably familiar sight.

Nothing.

With the way that the arena had become packed, it was easy to assume that they had reached the height of the show. By now, his associates would be far too late, and thus be unable to qualify.

It was only now that Will had realized just how alone he was on this mission.

Alone, except for the company of his target.

"It is a lot to take in, isn’t it?" Louis said, snapping Will out of his trance.

"Uh... yeah. This whole place huge for my size."

"Better get used to it. Soon, the vast expanse of the Kingdom of Euchronia will between your fingers."

I’ll be under your boot, so it will all balance out, Will thought.

"Riiiight..." Will said, still looking for the company of his friends.

The docks were wide and expansive, and so was the free land in the vicinity of the port city. But nowhere held any lingering trace of Will’s brigade. With the exception of Gallica’s hopeful return, Will was only armed with his intellect and the patience of a saint.

Calling him a patient saint was a bit of a stretch, but one satisfactory snap on Louis was not worth the failure of the entire mission.

Louis stopped in his tracks as he caught sight of one of the clock towers, and his expression grew dim. It was far from a worrisome shift, as Will knew that this outing was destined to be a short one. Still, it caught his eye, as a change in his usual smug demeanor was notably unusual nonetheless.

"I’m afraid if I spend more time wandering around leisurely, then preparations will be delayed more than they need to be," Louis said.

"I don’t mind coming with," Will said, albeit reluctantly.

"You need not to do work outside of your description. Besides, I invite you to this gathering more as a guest of mine rather than staff. It would be unfair to make a guest set up their own party."

"Its fine. I can still be of use to you."

Louis grabbed Will’s shoulder and leaned in. He could hardly make out Louis’s expression from the hair that had fallen over his eyes, but Will all of a sudden felt a great discomfort in the air.

And it felt like he was being watched. By something, or someone, very, very hungry.

"Worry not, my darling. Your use will come in handy later."

The count's words sent shivers through every nerve in his body. This is what Will needed: to be useful in some way that kept his high position firmly secured. But "use" had a multitude of meanings, none better than the others knowing how that snake was.

His hand slid off of Will’s shoulder and he turned his back. Louis shot one final side eye to Will, eyes narrowing and smiling confidently.

That look, Will thought.

That bloody look again...

There was something about that overly confident gaze that he just wanted to...

Well, he didn’t know what he wanted to do. But it certainly filled him with some kind of feeling that made his heart jump out of his chest every time. Regardless, it was an unpleasant feeling. It was as if his heart was trying to pry him away from his goal of killing Louis, for gods know what reason.

He mustn’t allow himself to be swayed by his words. At the same time, humoring the count to get a little closer could do him some good in the long run. Gallica wasn’t around to judge him for his words, so he could...

A cold salty sea breeze smacked Will, snapping him back to reality. For now, Will was alone, devious snake of a partner or not. His friends were hopefully in the back lines formulating a plan of attack, and Gallica was currently trying to seek them out to update them on the situation. All he had now was Louis and his brigade of freaks, which he still counted as him being alone given how he didn’t have any interest in associating with them. It was no better than being a mouse trapped in a den of snakes.

For the time being, Will should enjoy his brief moment of freedom. The streets were barren, and despite the salty chill in the air, he had room to breathe away from Louis. Though it felt like a weight was lifted off of his shoulders, a part of him was also missing.

He will feel better when Gallica returns, surely.

With great solitude in the streets, comes silence from within the market as well. Stalls were empty, as everyone had gone off to watch the event that would play a part in determining how the rest of their lives would be. Restaurants and bars were no better as well, with closed signs hanging up or doors locked with no signs of life from within. With nowhere worthwhile to spend his time, Will was better off returning to his room and finding something else to preoccupy himself with.

Or rather, back to Louis's room.

Everywhere he went, it seemed as if he ultimately couldn’t escape him.

It was just a room in an inn. It shouldn’t mean much. It was either do nothing in the freezing sea breeze or do nothing with the comfort of blankets.

In the room alone, it was sort of dull without the constant bullying from Gallica or that blonde prick to annoy. But at the very least, he had the ever-reliable companionship of his fantasy novel to depend on. A book he had read time and again, its ideals as timeless as its pages. Laying down on the bed, he flipped to a random page and began to read.

The immediate result is that everyone mentioned on the list becomes suspicious of everything in human shape. They all stop trusting one another, and stop being trustworthy. They live in a constant state of terror, which is perfectly justified – for it’s often been known to happen that all of them, including the king himself, are betrayed by the very person that they pinned most faith on.

The words lingered in his mind for a few moments before he could bring himself to move on. Why they stuck with him for so long, he couldn’t exactly answer that. Nevertheless, he continued reading.

Sometime into the late afternoon, the handle on the door rattled. A visitor…even though Will knew exactly who it could be, it didn’t exactly bring him much comfort.

"Hm? You’re back so soon," Louis said, gently shutting the door behind him.

"There’s nowhere to go. Every stall has been left abandoned in favor of watching the race," Will said, not bothering to pry his eyes away from his book.

"Why not join them? Surely, it would be a better use of your time than just lazing around shut in here."

Will closed his book and tossed it aside, rolling onto his back. "Imagine the people’s faces when 'that elda boy' shows up as part of the crowd instead of down there with them. Doesn’t inspire much confidence, I don’t think."

"More than enough people have seen you walking alongside me for the word to spread. There would be little question as to where you stood in terms of the race."

"Tell me about it. The rumors have already started to spread."

"Baseless nonsense, the all of them," Louis said with a sigh, almost cutting off Will.

"A little defensive, are we?" Will teased.

"Do you take me as a fool who cannot recognize utter blasphemy?"

Gallica wasn’t physically here, yet Will could feel her staring down them both with utter disgust.

"I only jest," Will said, wanting to save himself from the wrath of Louis for the time being.

Louis's gaze softened, as if a legitimate concern of his was no longer. Will must’ve rubbed him the wrong way with such a comment. Strange, though, as he didn’t seem to pay any mind to the fleeting accusations made in regards to him and Junah.

"Very funny, you are," Louis said, feigning amusement.

"I didn’t think that you would he back so soon yourself," Will said, quickly changing the topic. He propped his head up to look curiously at Louis.

"There is only so much one can accomplish in the span of a day. Reservations have been confirmed, and supplies are on order. Make too much haste, and the dust will gather before the festivities can begin."

He has this thing planned down to the dust on the tables, Will thought. Impressive, if not a bit pretentious.

Louis sat aside his igniter chestplate and tossed his cape onto the floor. "Besides. You’re already here. I have no reason to waste my day away for your return."

"That lonely?" Will asked. "You know, I did offer to come alongside you to help prepare."

Louis didn’t respond.

"I guess it is pretty cold outside anyways. Sort of brutal for the season, it feels like."

"Such is the cruelty of nature," Louis remarked. "Even the gentlest of sea breezes can bring a chill to the bone."

"Safe to assume that these next few nights are going to be brutally cold?"

"Regrettably so."

"Then we should ask them for some more blankets."

"What we have is what we get. These places don’t have the luxury of simply giving everyone extra coverage upon request, especially assuming that travelers are long used to such conditions."

"In order words, we’re doomed to freeze all through the night?" Will said, his head falling back onto the pillow.

"...If you believe that to be the case."

Will knew exactly what he was going to suggest. And he knew exactly how he was going to respond.

No.

Not in a million years.

Even sitting across the room from Louis was too close for him. The only thing of Will’s that should even come into contact with that bastard was the tip of a dagger to slit his throat. He would much rather freeze to death.

Alone.

[scarletwritesshit]

🌅Hyuna x Luka🌅the sun that would never rise

It is said that one’s life will flash before their eyes in the moments before they die,

Luka was a survivor, but all that he could see was what life could have been. He knew none of it All that he saw was a past most unfamiliar, yet strangely pleasant. A better life. In a different timeline, another world, another future, a life where the concept of Alien Stage was nothing more than a cruel fantasy.

The gun was planted firmly against his head, ready to bring an end to the undefeated winner, but even if his blood were to be spilled upon this stage, Luka had already achieved his victory. The soldier kept steady. He kept walking forward. Hyuna was within his reach.

In his mind, he didn’t seem himself walking across a bloodstained stage to reach Hyuna. Luka envisioned himself walking towards his lover under the gentle embrace of the moonlight. No walls around suffocating the air in which they and the others stood. Where the crowd saw colorful stage lights, Luka saw a sky full of stars twinkling.

The fellow rebels of Hyuna looked like nothing more than ordinary humans enjoying the reprise under the moonlight alongside them. Murmurs of the audience drowned out into the sound of clinking glass and popping corks. Cold metal braced against his skin instead felt like the warmth of Hyuna's forehead.

Despite the spillover of frustration, resentment, everything, Hyuna could not hold herself back from charging directly into Luka's arms. Halfway, they would meet. The rebel stood firm with his arm up and ready to pull the trigger, but he did not match the footsteps of Luka. He merely stood and waited, eyes narrowed and fingers twitching.

Their fingers intertwined around a half drank bottle of wine, their cold metal wedding rings warmed by their natural body heat. It was a simple feeling that Hyuna had experienced countless times before, but one she still couldn’t get enough of as she tried to firmly grip onto Luka’s hand in addition to her wine bottle. He felt warm, soft, and strong, yet Luka was the same gentleman he had been since they were young.

Luka leaned his head down into Hyuna. His glasses were pushed at an angle on his face, smudging them ever so slightly. They were of a newer prescription, and he had taken the utmost care to maintain them. But that respect was quickly forgotten, as it was not nearly enough of a force to pry him away from Hyuna.

He was always so clingy to her. From their youth, Luka had no intention of ever letting himself be pried away from Hyuna, and even into adulthood he refused to separate himself. As if she was any better. If Luka needed a shoulder to cry on, she was there for him without a single question asked. And when Hyuna would talk for hours, Luka would silently yet intently listen with his few and far in between commentary.

At their very core, they were inseparable best friends. Now, they stood beneath the moonlight as lovers. From way back then and for many years to come, they were bound to tread upon the same path.

Beasts and their pets alike watched from the crowd in utter confusion, whispering to each other but none willing to speak up. Their much-adored undefeated champion had a gun pointed at his head; was there some sort of foul play at hand that to twist the results at the last moment? Their heartless singer who laughed at the victims of his cruel antics smiled so softly at the mysterious trespasser running towards him.

The fearsome monster that they all knew was only the mask that Luka wore. In truth, he like that of a feral animal misguided. All he ever wanted, all that he could ever think about, was Hyuna.

He had to get her to take notice of him somehow. But by doing what, exactly?

Why, the one thing he was good at. Putting on a show. Slaughtering all of those who stood against him. She couldn’t be able to ignore him then.

And she didn’t. Heartless displays aside, she was after him all this time. Through the disguise she donned, Luka could see the utter passion in her eyes. Rage? Desire? It was something, but he couldn’t tell clearly. What Luka absolutely could not tell was that beneath her mask, her jaw clenched in fury.

He didn’t care. She was coming for him, and Luka felt as if he had fulfilled his true purpose in his pathetic excuse of a life.

It felt as if they were living through the entirety of “forever” in the span of one night. The conversations around them went over their heads as they were too focused on each other to listen with any form of curiosity. They were lucky that they had not accidentally collided with a third party while their gazes were locked. With their fingers still clumsily tangled around each other’s and the bottle, Luka draped his arm across her shoulder and Hyuna wrapped hers around his torso.

Neither of them had much proficiency in the art of dancing, yet the movement of their bodies synced so well that it was easy for one to think otherwise. One step from Luka: Hyuna would match without flaw. A gentle nudge in the side: their bodies would turn gracefully at once. One heart raced: the other matched its pulse.

They had gone into the night with expectations of slow-paced serenity, but their faces had become sore from smiling and laughing too much. Just when Luka thought he had got ahold of himself, Hyuna would giggle once more, thus making Luka’s efforts fruitless.

Luka had leaned in to kiss her, but neither could hold on for very long as they could hardly go moments without giggling. Too much wine? No, the night was still young, it felt like. No way they could have had too much by now.

Their footsteps were still stable and their minds were clear. In the light of the lamps that shone around them, the illumination of each other was the only thing reflected in their eyes.

Hyuna's glare was dark and dreadful. She wasn’t the smiling, laughing girl that Luka had been in love with for as long as he could recall. Nevertheless, Hyuna was still Hyuna, and Luka’s cravings for that women were feral, primal, even.

Even if she were to be the one to kill him, one way or another.

Chances were, she was on a mission to choke him to death in the same fashion as Mizi had attempted to do to him. Or perhaps he would find himself laying in a pool of blood and discarded into the audience, meeting the same fate as Till.

It mattered not to Luka. If he died by Hyuna's hands, then so be it. He would die a happy man.

When she threw her arms around him, he was anticipating pain. He was anticipating his breathing getting abruptly cut off, or for his guts to spill out from in front of him. What he wasn’t prepared for was for Hyuna to hold him close to her in a tight hug.

This was an entirely different form of pain.

"I... I hate you," she said through muffled tears.

Hate or love, it all meant the same with a gun pointed to your head.

"I hate you for making me feel this way," she continued. "I kept moving forward, fighting for everyone, fighting for those who still had the privilege to breath and for those who had fallen. Not even my body being ripped to shreds could stop me in my tracks. But you. You are my only weakness, you damned bastard."

Luka smiled. It really was all the same.

Her hair fell down over her eyes as she giggled. Luka pushed it out of the way with the back of his hand.

"Already had a little too much to drink, my star?" he asked.

"Don’t be so damn corny!" she said with a laugh. "We’ve hardly made it through a bottle!"

"You mean...you’ve hardly made it through a bottle. Leave at least a little for me, won’t you?"

"I have no idea what you mean!" she said, gently tugging the bottle out of Luka’s hand and taking a rather large sip.

"I already know you’re going to make me carry you back," he said, "but you don’t have to get drunk to get me to do that- "

"Oh, hell! I’m gonna be carrying you back all by myself! Don’t even joke with me! Hahaha!"

As much as she would like to deny it, Hyuna well beyond the point of tipsy. Despite this, she was still a woman of formidable strength, and she yanked Luka forward into her with a hefty laugh. She rested her head against his and sloppily ran her hand through his hair. Luka was becoming a bit concerned about making a scene, but chances were that the other couples were too engrossed in each other to pay any mind to their antics.

"C-careful now," he said, trying to adjust his glasses so that they didn’t get caught on her collarbone.

Hyuna realized that she got a bit carried away and relaxed her grip on him a bit. Luka backed up slightly, giving himself a least a little extra room to breathe.

"Oh, lighten up, Luka! You aren’t some fragile kid anymore!"

"I was never fragile," he said as he was attempting to readjust his smudged glasses.

His sight became blurry. Tears began to cloud his vision.

It didn’t matter if she hated him. She saw him. She acknowledged him. She held him in his arms. That is all that mattered.

"Those pitiful eyes of yours. You haven’t changed a bit. I know damn well that you aren’t a heartless killer. You’re a survivor of these cruel games, just like the rest of us."

Luka could hear absolutely nothing at that moment, other than the sound of Hyuna’s voice. The sound of audience chatter, the bang that shot through the stage, he was obvious to all. His face became drenched with his tears. Beneath his smile and the joy he felt having Hyuna in his arms, he couldn’t help but feel sorrow. The only thing that could manage to tear his heart to shreds in such a way was embracing him in front of the crowd that he had just killed a man in front of moments prior.

Luka couldn’t manage any words.

“Oh you don’t have to act all tough for me! You'll always be that same dork I fell in love with!” she said, aggressively rubbing his hair.

“Ah…cut it out, you’ll mess up my hair,” Luka said, trying to straighten out his appearance.

“Since when did you give a crap about stuff like that?” Hyuna said with a laugh.

“Since now…I tried to make myself at least somewhat presentable for you- “

“Ah, you bastard! What’s got you on edge tonight? Have a lil more to drink, why dontcha!” she said, offering him the bottle by practically shoving it in his face.

With her enthusiasm and big smile, Luka didn’t have the heart to resist her offer. He took the bottle and had another sip. The bottle felt quite light; clearly Hyuna decimated a solid portion of it on her own. Still, Luka left a fair portion of the wine for her, as it felt rude to hand back an empty bottle.

“I’m just…thinking about how lucky I am to be with you tonight, that’s all.”

“Lucky? Hell yeah I’m lucky! Lucky to have the best goddamn husband a woman could ask for!”

“Please. Live on. Do it for me. Don’t throw your life away just because of all of the pain, the sorrow, the treachery you have fought through up until now.”

Every grueling word from Hyuna made it feel like an eternity dragged on as Luka savored the agony being driven deep into his failing heart. Every stab weakening him further and further, he relished it. He craved more of it. Even through all of his tears, he wanted her to drive the knife deeper into him to make him feel alive.

“Embrace the pain that made you you.”

There was no reasoning with Hyuna now. Why bother with starting a back-and-forth of “no I love you more” when Luka was content seeing her with the biggest, most joyful grin he had ever seen? It would be ages before he could get through to her, if at all. Drunk or not, Hyuna had a will forged in steel.

“You know what, dear? Absolutely,” he said with a smile.

“Hahaha, -hic!”

Hyuna lost her balance, and she slumped into Luka’s arms.

Her body was growing weaker. Hyuna was only standing due to Luka retaining a firm hold on her body.

“Luka…live with love.”

Luka supported Hyuna so that she could stand upright.

“What a night. What a goddamn night,” she said happily, disregarding her narrowly avoided tumble.

With her arm secured around his shoulder, the two of them gazed out towards the stars high in the sky. Their smiles were big, filled with hope and anticipation for what the future may bring.

To think that this would not be their last night, and Luka would live through many more nights like this with his beloved.

Luka’s shoulder was becoming soaked with their shared tears, presumably.

“For everything that you have been driven to do, for every mistake that you have made along the way, please…forgive yourself.”

“And cheers to many more like this,” Luka said, finishing off the bottle of wine that Hyuna had neglected.

“Don’t look at this like it’s the end. This is only the beginning for you.”

The sun began to rise.

The stage lights began to dim.

A new day was upon them. It had long grown silent with the majority of other attendees having retired for the night.

With the creeping silence and fading lights, Luka had only just realized what had covered his face once he had snapped out of his trance. His cold tears had mixed with Hyuna’s warm blood that splattered onto his face. It was more than likely that once the light had return, he would catch a glimpse of his reflection covered not with his own blood, not even Till’s blood, but rather, Hyuna’s blood.

The blood of the one person who kept his mind grounded.

That night, Luka had vowed to stay by Hyuna’s side forever.

That night, two people were shot together.

[scarletwritesshit]

💀Mydei x Castorice💀 Embracing Death

Castorice watched from around the corner as Phainon smiled and played with Tribbie, Trianne, and Trinnon. The triplets ran circles around him gleefully as he reached forward, pretended to grab for them, and “just barely” allow for them escape. As Chrysos Heirs, they were divine, well-respected lords, Phainon included, but they were a group of kids playing with their father at heart. It made Castorice feel a certain way…

Phainon had the strength to effortless pick them up, perch one of them on each of his shoulders, and hold Trianne in his arm. He had the appearance of a tree aged so finely with three little girls perched on him like finches.

It was cute. Too damn cute. Her love-starved heart couldn’t handle it. Castorice wished that she could just run into Phainon’s arms herself and be held for once in her life. That, however, would be an impossible feat. The option existed, but only for a few brief seconds before her curse would drain the life out of Phainon. She knew better than to even think about touching him with her tainted body.

She was tempted…so very tempted… The triplets looked so happy being carried around, and Phainon appeared almost as enthusiastic as they were. Should Castorice get a little too close, he wouldn’t be smiling for much longer.

It was incredibly rude to stare, and so she kept a rather low profile as the four of them seemed to be too distracted to notice anyways. Castorice stayed hidden behind the corner and clenched her fist. She wasn’t willing to admit she was jealous. Envious of a little bit of human contact? No, she wasn’t getting herself worked up over something simple as like that.

She was so focused on eyeing up Phainon and the triplets that she hadn’t noticed that Mydei had approached her from behind. And he was standing out from around the corner, in plain view of Phainon and Tribios. Mydei crossed his arms and looked down at her, wondering if Castorice would eventually take notice of him out of the corner of her eye. She was staring with such great focus that her body would be almost statue-like if it weren’t for strands of her hair gently waving in the breeze. A few minutes of the waiting game were more than enough for Mydei, and so he finally spoke up and broke the silence.

“Castorice,” he said. “Just how long have you been standing here?”

Castorice jumped out of her skin so hard that she was arguably smitten with her very own curse of death.

“M-Mydei!” she said. “I’m just… passing through. Nothing important here.”

“Just passing through, hm? You sure are taking your sweet ass time then by stopping to admire Phainon.”

She should know. Mydei wasn’t exactly one for nonsense.

“It…wasn’t Phainon I was admiring, uh, per say…”

Mydei raised his eyebrow at her. “Cut the crap. You were so focused on staring at him that you didn’t even notice me standing beside you for a solid ten minutes.”

Ten minutes?

Castorice was quickly falling apart. No matter how hard she scratched her brain, she could not come up with an excuse as to why she was watching them for so long. Every roundabout statement would only make Mydei even more suspicious of her intentions. Her face was turning red, and she, too, wished that she could die from the wrath of her own touch.

Curiously enough, Mydei seemed to be getting some enjoyment out of her turmoil. He leaned against the wall with a slight smile on his face. And this man never smiled, which wasn’t helping what Castorice was feeling in the slightest.

“So tell me,” he said leaning down closer to her, “what about our great hero fascinates you so much?”

“Wellllllllllll,” she said, holding her hands behind her back. No point in dancing around the answer now. Mydei was onto her. “It’s not really about Phainon or Tribios themselves...”

He glanced back to catch a glimpse of Phainon walking away with triplets in hand. If it wasn’t about them as individuals, then Mydei was quickly able to deduce her reasoning. Casotrice killed every living thing she made contact with. And she was watching Tribios be so lovingly picked up and played with by Phainon.

Castorice, though still dragging out her words, was about to continue when Mydei interrupted her.

“You want to be held.”

She so was thrown off by his sudden bluntness that she could only stand there speechless.

“All of this stalking and jealously just so that you didn’t have to admit to someone that you wanted to be held. Why didn’t you just say something sooner?” he said, putting his hand on her shoulder.

“Mydei!” Castorice shouted, yanking her body back. She couldn’t pull herself away from him, as his muscular hand had too firm of a grip on her shoulder. Panic began to overtake her mind, as she was thinking that this was Mydei’s most unusual way of committing suicide from the utter embarrassment of encountering her “stalking” his friend.

In the midst of her panic, a crucial detail finally hit her. Mydei was immortal. But if everything she touched died, would she be the one thing to finally lay him to rest? She stood there wide-eyed and frozen in fear. Time passed, and nothing unusual seemed to be happening to him.

Could he finally be the solution to her problems? No, it would be far too selfish for her to ask Mydei to allow her to cling to him.

“You’re…not dying?” she asked, still somewhat expecting him to.

“I can’t. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been stupid enough to touch you with my bare hands.”

He was right. He wasn’t dead yet. Forget her reputation of the grim reaper of Amphoreus, Castorice was beginning to tear up. Human contact. The genuine, honest feeling of human touch. It was something that she had never had the privilege of experiencing before the body of one went cold in her hands. After calming herself down, Castorice realized just how warm Mydei’s hand was. She wanted her entire body to be engulfed in this warmth.

It wasn’t helping that he noticed her reaction and started gently rubbing his hand on her shoulder. If Castorice didn’t want to maintain her last shred of dignity, she would’ve thrown herself face forward into his chest without further hesitation.

He saw the tears beginning to form in Casotrice’s eyes and gently wiped them away with the back of his clawed finger. Though a direct contrast to the feeling of his bare hand, the cold metal still felt nice to Castorice. It seemed as if beneath that stoic expression he always wore, Mydei was actually quite kind. So very kind… Perhaps he wouldn’t mind if she…

“…Mydei? Can…can I come a little closer?”

Without saying a word, Mydei yanked her in by the shoulder, causing her to land face first into his chest. The sensation was overwhelming, to say the least. The warmth of a living, breathing human being. The sound of a strong heartbeat directly against her ear. She wanted to pull him close in return and refuse to let go, but her body was tense and frozen in place. And, what if by doing so, she somehow accidentally killed Mydei in the process? Willingly holding onto a human being wasn’t exactly something that Castorice was familiar with doing.

Reaching down and grabbing ahold of her arm, Mydei wrapped it around his back as best as he could possibly manage. He did so with her other arm, practically forcing Castorice to embrace him in return. She was still stiff and frozen, unable to pry herself away despite the lingering anxiety of him collapsing in her arms.

He still showed absolutely no signs of falling over dead.

The only person that she would ever be able to hug was of course the one that appeared the most cold and distant. But for having such a cold exterior, Mydei was rather warm. So, very warm. Intoxicating levels of warmth and comfort. Disregarding her fears at long last, she held onto him tighter. She had a rather difficult time getting a good grip on him given his incredibly bulky physique, but she would squeeze with all of the might in her little body until she no longer had the strength to do so.

Mydei had to be careful to not hold her too tightly. He feared that he might accidentally crush her with his immense strength, but even if he did keep only a light grip on her, Castorice would’ve been more than satisfied nonetheless.

“Please,” Castorice said, her words muffled by Mydei’s chest, “just a little while longer.”

“Mm,”

It was a tad bit awkward for them to be standing in the middle so tightly held in each other’s grasp. Castorice or Mydei perhaps could have considered elsewhere, but in defense of Castorice, she was a bit too excited at the opportunity to hold a human without killing them with her touch. Mydei didn’t say it, but he was truthfully willing to stand around for as long as she wanted to, even if it was all through the night until his legs grew tired.

She was a sweet girl. Mydei didn’t mind sticking close by her side.

[scarletwritesshit]

what a week its been and i say that on the monday im posting this

✮ twitch - scarlet_nevermore

✮ bird app - @/crowdrxgon

✮ bluesky - crowdrxgon.bsky.social

✮strawpage - scarletnevermore.straw.page

[scarletwritesshit]

🦇Hugo x Belle🦇Something About Sentimental Value

Clearly, Wise was asleep. As if she couldn’t assume from the current time, she could hear him snoring from the shop floor, thanks to the thin walls and apparently there being such thing as soundproofing in this building. At least he was a rather heavy sleeper. He wasn’t one to be disturbed by the vigorous computer work that Belle occasionally did during absurd hours, or the occasional nighttime stray that happened to wander into Random Play.

Not often did someone come through the doors at one in the morning seeking a movie to rent. Those who did often rented the more... questionable types of content, usually tapes intended to be watched in solitude. The look on their face when a tired young lady would come to the counter to check them out was quite often priceless, but Belle couldn’t care less what they were seeking out. She knew damn well the secrets kept within the store’s inventory. She was most certainly aware that such tapes were within their possession. And all she honestly cared about was getting paid.

The opportunity for these few and far in between transactions was why she left the doors unlocked at night, when many would assume they were closed. Open arms for the desperate to earn a few extra Dennies never hurt anyone. And in the position that their savings were in, those few extra Dennies were something that Wise and Belle could very well use.

A few weirdos walked through those doors, on occasion. Nothing she wasn’t already used to, though, given her eccentric dealings in the past.

For once, as a break away from the screen, Belle had temporarily retired the Bangboo for the night and was manning the front counter herself. All of this computer nonsense that she wished that she could pass off to Wise yet remained, but she was wide awake and it was better to use her time to get something done than to try and count on him to do something to some degree of success in the morning. Knowing him, he was probably going to nab some of the store’s stock and proceed to watch it for himself. Maybe she should start charging him a rental fee…

As she was skimming through a magazine out of complete and boredom, Belle heard the door bells ring as a customer walked into the shop. She peered over her magazine to get a glimpse of who had come seeking a tape at this hour, but she noticed that this visitor was most unusual. His profession, if one could call it that, wasn’t exactly that of someone you’d find so openly crawling around the store.

Being all too familiar with his slimy nature, there was no chance that he could be up to any good prowling around Random Play. Belle narrowed her eyes, and kept a sharp watch as the blonde-haired beast glanced over the shelves. He didn’t exactly seem to be browsing the tape selection with much intent; it was more as if he was standing by, idly waiting for something.  An opportunity, perhaps.

“…Can I help you find something?” Belle asked.

He turned to look at Belle with an eerily delighted gaze, as if he were seeking her attention more than a suitable tape for the night. She couldn’t help but stare into his silver and red eyes, though he made her tremble internally despite the brave mask she donned. Their meetings were, thankfully, few and far in between, but she knew him well enough to call him by name. And she knew more than enough about him to realize that he was up to no good.

“My dear, what do you think I’m here for?” he said, slipping a silver coin into his pocket.

Belle rolled her eyes. “Hugo, I swear if you start asking me for ‘no ordinary treasures,’ I’m going to see you out myself personally.”

“You know me all too well,” Hugo said, with his fangs protruding from his grin. “Way too well.”

“It’s kinda obvious,” Belle said, putting down her magazine. “You know, you aren’t really going to find much in Random Play. Just a bunch of videos that Wise only suggested we carry so he could watch himself.”

“Ah, but I find that rather hard to believe. This building also serves as your residence, does it not?”

“What gave that away? The freight train snoring upstairs?”

How she wished that she could be Wise right now, blissfully sleeping the night away fully unaware of Hugo’s presence. But no, she just had to be downstairs alone with him, along with some Bangboo, but they really didn’t count as company, especially when they were charging for the time being.

“Hence why I find it hard to believe that there is nothing of value here,” he said, resting his arms on the desk.

It was evident that he wasn’t exactly willing to leave empty handed with the way he was eyeing up Belle. He knew from pure intuition alone that behind the shelves and stacks of cheap movies for rental lied a goldmine of memories shared between Belle and Wise. Old miscellaneous souvenirs, remnants of projects that they had worked on together, and many other relics of their past had so little physical value, yet they meant a great deal to them in terms of sentimental value.

Unfortunately, those were precisely the type of “relics” that Hugo was seeking out.

“Do you really want some of our old crappy notebooks? Or maybe the wrapper that has been lodged in the couch cushion for maybe six years now?”

“There is no doubt that the memories your brother has shared with you are quite precious,” he said, gently lifting up her chin. “It’s almost enough to satisfy my cravings for a good, long while.”

“O-our notebooks? Enough for you? Do we truly matter that much in some underground market where our old nonsensical scribbles hold so much value?”

“Oh, dear, I believe you completely misunderstand me.”

He stroked the side of her face with his bare thumb, then slid his hand down the side of her neck.

“What I want is something that is so important, so valuable to your brother. Something of his that cannot even come close to the value of anything within this store. Something, or someone, who is irreplaceable to him…”

His hand was resting on the side of her neck. The way he rubbed his thumb across her skin was so eerily soothing, despite his claws being mere centimeters away from the major arteries in her neck. Belle couldn’t manage to pull herself, even with the knowledge that Hugo’s soft touch was greatly contradicted by the pain she knew that he could inflict upon her.

“D-do you want me? Do you want to take me back to your shady hideout, or whatever?” she asked.

“I couldn’t bear to cause such distress to a beautiful lady,” he said, taking hold of her hand and giving it a gentle kiss. “But it still must be known one way or another that I lay claim to you.”

He glared up at her and sank his fangs into the top of her hand. Belle’s jaw clenched tightly, rendering her unable to call for help. She couldn’t understand why she felt so reluctant to cry out, but perhaps it was simply the habit of not causing too much of a ruckus to those resting in the building. Hugo released her hand and she pulled back it, watching a small amount of blood trickle down her hand.

Some dripped onto the counter. It was something that she would have to remember to clean up before Wise made his way down the steps in the morning.

The pensiveness and anxiety in her eyes seemed to be entertaining Hugo greatly, and the sight of the crimson red staining her hands only drove him even more feral. With a fresh, open wound on her hand, Belle was practically presenting herself as a slab of steak to a rabid predator driven mad by hunger.

With her hand still trembling from the sting, she attempted to use her other hand to wipe off the blood, but could hardly manage as she winced in pain. The palm of her other hand became stained as well, creating an even greater mess than the one she started out with.

“Darling, your hands don’t deserve to be sullied with blood, whether it be yours or mine,” he said, once more offering his hand. “Allow me to…offer my assistance and clean you up.”

Belle, still holding her sore hand, wasn’t sure the best course of action to take. He clearly was on the hunt, and not for treasure, but Belle feared the consequences should she excuse herself from such a customer of hers. Reluctantly, she placed the palm of her hand into his, and as promised, he licked the blood clean from her hand. The only trace of injury now where the two fang marks.

“So sweet,” he said, holding back the temptation to bite once more. “So, so sweet, fitting for such a sweet lady…”

Belle was stunned into silence, having her hand gently held by this unfortunately attractive man and having her thoughts swayed by this quite literal sweet talking. It was all around a weird situation, for someone harboring such a strong desire to feast on her blood specifically. Given her history of cooperating with Thirens, the strange foes she had faced, and so on it certainly wasn’t the most unusual thing she had encountered.

“Just…say you’re starving, or something,” Belle finally muttered.

“That is quite the animalistic way to put it, is it not?”

“The sides of your mouth are already stained with blood. You’ve done more than plenty to make yourself look like a beast.”

“Ah…how…improper of me,” he said, wiping off his mouth with the back of his hand. Hugo placed her hand gently down onto the table, surprisingly considerate of the fact that it was rather sore. “But you just taste… far, far too good.”

Wise continued snoring loudly from the upstairs. From the sound of things, there was absolutely no chance of him waking up to such a deplorable sight should Belle agree to relieve some of Hugo’s cravings. She looked back and forth between her pricked hand and Hugo’s pleading eyes, as if she was debating her answer to his silent pleas to indulge himself.

All hell would break loose, should he cause Belle to die. Surely, he had to be smart enough to leave her in a somewhat stable condition. Belle clenched her fist and looked away from him, shamefully charmed. He had such gentle eyes for a predator…for someone that could bite her throat out if she made one wrong move.

“Oh, dear,” Hugo said, walking behind the counter. “No need to be so shy.”

Belle looked up to see him looming behind her. He placed his hand on her neck, gently pulling aside the collar of her shirt to further expose the bare skin of her neck and shoulder. The contrast of his warm fingers and cold rings sent a tinge through her body with every inch he stroked. She tried to relax, taking deep breaths and attempting to calm her heart rate so she wouldn’t be drained as rapidly. But Hugo’s touch was teasing the entirety of her body and she almost wanted to pull him down into her neck just to get it over with.

Belle looked down to the side, allowing her hair to fall out of the way for easier access to her neck. She didn’t utter a single word, but with her flesh exposed in such a way, Hugo took it as an invitation to feast on her blood. She tried to keep her hands steady on the desk and repress any signs of nervousness, but it was rather hard when her palms were becoming uncomfortably sweaty.

She could still see his shadow looming over her as he leaned down into her neck. Belle wanted to close her eyes and brace herself for the pain, but she just couldn’t. Her entire body felt frozen stiff with the force of Hugo pinning her against the desk, rendering her immobile with her weight if not with her nerves.

Hugo nuzzled further into the side of her neck, then licked it slowly. Belle’s whole body cringed from the feeling of his cold saliva, but she held herself tense in place. Should she attempt to instinctively back up, she would only find herself further pressed against his body.

Not like she had the option of going anywhere anyways. Hugo had her hands pinned to the counter, further stinging the one he had nibbled on prior. Belle had come to hardly notice this pain as she was blinded by the surge of adrenaline. His hold was firm, yet he was taking this as a prime opportunity to indulge in the sensation of her fingers for himself.

“Such a beautiful lady,” he whispered. “I almost feel guilty for doing this to you.”

Giving no time for Belle to counteract, he sunk his fangs into the side of her neck. She bit her tongue and tensed up her hand, but the growing tension in her body only made it feel worse. Belle would have to relax if she still had the goal of surviving this encounter. She tried taking a deep breath, but she felt that if she inhaled too much, her windpipe would, in turn, be punctured by Hugo’s fangs.

Belle was very rapidly becoming lightheaded. She was losing strength in her legs and she felt like she could collapse at any moment. Just how much was he planning to take from her? Belle was starting to wish that she had suggested him feasting off of her brother, but Hugo seemed especially insistent on her being his prey for the evening.

The tension in her body eased as her body lost the willpower to resist. Belle was becoming tired, and combined with her exhaustion from being up into the late hours of the night, she was doomed to pass out sooner than later. At least she wouldn’t collapse face forward into the counter, as Hugo kept a firm grip on her body preventing her from falling. If only she could muster up the strength to tell him that her body wasn’t as abundant with blood as he hoped so.

Tired. So…very tired.

Belle’s eyes became heavy, and she hardly had the strength left to fight to keep them open.

After a few minutes that felt like grueling hours passing by Hugo finally released his fangs from her neck and loosened his grip on her body. Despite this, Belle still couldn’t quite move with muscles still stiff from anxiety yet weak from hemorrhaging, but she at least could muster a deep breath.

“Such a good girl for your first time, dear,” he said, giving her a gentle kiss on the neck where her wounds were.

As if that would make it any better.

Well maybe it did, but just by a little.

Belle slowly turned her head around to see him with a considerable amount of blood on his face. Not the least bit surprising, but still a shocking contrast to the gentleman who was serenading her moments prior.

“You uh, have a little something on your face,” she managed to mutter.

“Ah, apologies for my lack of manners. Worry not about me, as I believe that it is best that your concerns lie within yourself,” he said. “Rest your weary body and allow me to carry you to your quarters.”

Hugo was being surprisingly considerate for someone who had just welcomed himself to feast on her like that. Belle was quite lightheaded and his offer was quite tempting, but she still had greater concerns and a shred of dignity left.

“But what about the shop? I still need to lock it up.”

“Do not concern yourself one bit,” he said with a wink. “A thief knows his way around locks quite well.”

Belle was too tired to be concerned with his methods and motives, so she allowed him to carry her up the stairs into the bed. Wise was still fast asleep as he had been throughout the entirety of the night, completely ignorant of his sister becoming a meal just moments prior. Hugo nudged her door open gently and laid Belle down on her bed with a surprising amount of care. He carefully rested her head on her pillow and pulled her blanket over her body before closing the door and silently making his departure.

The following morning, Belle slept in for quite a long time. Much longer than Wise, which was almost unheard of. She awoke with her neck feeling quite sore, and so she made her way to the bathroom to observe the damage. The wound was surprisingly clean; he must’ve taken it upon himself to clean her of blood. Despite this, the presence of the bite wound was still rather obvious.

Belle wrapped it in some gauze and pulled her shirt up further, hoping that Wise wouldn’t look too hard or care enough to mention. She held onto the banister tightly as she walked down the stairs as she was still feeling lightheaded and rather dizzy.

“Belle,” Wise said as soon as he caught a glimpse of her, “did something happen last night?”

What did he mean something? What could he have possibly heard?

“W-What do you mean?”

“There’s a little bit of blood on the counter. I was worried that you had gotten hurt.”

Crap. She had completely forgotten about the wound on her hand. The blood staining the counter, the sheer obviousness of its location, everything about it altogether. And when she realized this, she once more became conscious of the stinging that lingered in her hand.

“Uh, nothing!” she said, covering her hands as best as she could with her sleeves. “Nothing at all. Just got a nasty papercut digging through some old crap. Nothing bad. I promise.”

Wise looked at her as if he didn’t believe her story one bit.

She didn’t believe herself, either. Not with the pain as a result of that handsome devil feasting on her last night.

[scarletwritesshit]

so i hear okami is peak 👀

✮ twitch - scarlet_nevermore

✮ bird app - @/crowdrxgon

✮ bluesky - crowdrxgon.bsky.social

✮strawpage - scarletnevermore.straw.page

[scarletwritesshit]

i have a strawpage now

ill work on prettying it up, but it has what's important, being all of my links as well as an AMA for you to bully me

[scarletwritesshit]

no i dont still have a star rail addiction what makes you think that

✮ twitch - scarlet_nevermore

✮ bird app - @/crowdrxgon

✮ bluesky - crowdrxgon.bsky.social

[scarletwritesshit]

✉️Sunday x Stelle✉️Declaration Of Rotten Ink

A little spirit made of light peeked out from around the corner.

Stelle turned her head around, her instincts informing her of the presence of something lurking close behind. But the little creature was even swifter, and ducked behind the corner out of sight. Tilting her head curiously, Stelle knew that something was following her, as her instincts were unparalleled.

She turned her head away, waiting for whatever was creeping upon her to be bold enough to once more show itself.

The little spirit of light once more attempted to poke its head out, only more subtilty than its previous attempt. Stelle seemed nonchalant and unaware, but it was still as nervous as a little spirit of light could be about approaching her. It was simply acting as the messenger of a friend of hers and nothing more. If anything, he was the one that should be nervous. Like halovian, like echo, apparently.

She turned around again, and it ducked away once more.

Stelle turned her head back, it peered back out, and the cycle would continue.

The simple brain of the raccoon would continue to repeat such a cycle for many, many hours, but Stelle was above such foolishness. Not by much, but she certainly had a strange air of intelligence to her, shockingly. Meaning, occasionally she had a thought, or made a logical decision…

“All right, I know you’re hiding,” she called out, no longer having the patience for these games.

No response.

“Don’t make the Galactic Baseballer come around that corner and smack you upside the-“

Before she could finish her threat, the little spirit poked its body around the corner, quivering.

“Oh, what’s one of Sunday’s little… oomfies doing here?”

The creature, unable to talk, nervously exposed itself in its entirety around the corner. In its…hands, it was holding an envelope considerably larger than its body. Nothing, not even an address, was present on the front, but someone clearly took the time to seal it nicely with an ornate wax seal. Considering who was the mailman in this case, it wasn’t difficult to guess who sent the letter. And it certainly wasn’t difficult to guess who the recipient was.

She opened up her hands to accept the letter and free the little creature from its misery, then it darted off. For the reckless beast that Stelle inherently was, she pried open the letter gently, careful as to preserve the wax seal. Inside of it was nothing more than a neatly folded up piece of paper. The paper was of most pristine quality, and the handwriting was extraordinarily neat, as if someone put great thought and care into writing it each individual letter.

Since it was painfully obvious who the author of this letter was, there was no doubt that he went through countless drafts to make sure that the final product was perfect. He had probably used up at least a quarter of the Astral Express’s paper supply for this single letter alone.

Staring blankly at the paper lost in thought wasn’t going to do her any good. Stelle began reading what the letter said aloud.

To my star,

I am writing this letter as due to my own personal flaws, it is difficult to communicate exactly what I wish to you in person. Rather than waste more of your time than what is necessary, I will promptly cut to the chase.

It is with deep regret that I confess to have developed romantic feelings for you. I am aware that you are deserving of someone better in every way, and I will not fault you for deciding to discard my letter at this point in time and carry on as if you had read not a single word.

Even though we are newfound comrades after weeks of strife, your refusal to give up on my damned soul has captured my heart, and the words within my own vocabulary will never be enough to express that gratitude to you. My heart leaps out of my chest at the very sight of you. You’re truly the most beautiful, kindhearted, and uplifting force of nature I have ever had the privilege of meeting.

There yet remains a few words that I still wish to share with you. But I am afraid that presently, it would be far too soon for such a profound declaration.

Thank you for taking the time to read.

Stelle peeked over her letter to see a familiar pair of golden eyes gazing at her. He tried to quickly duck his head, but was negligent to the size of his halo and his nervously twitching wings.

“Sunday,” Stelle said, “you’re really not very good at hiding.”

Out of sight, out of mind seemed to be his philosophy, which clearly wasn’t working. Regardless, he budged not an inch, keeping his body still as he “hid” from her.

“As in, I can still see your halo. And wings.”

Quickly realizing that he was defeated, Sunday peered out from around the wall with his hands behind his back and Echoes watching with great anticipation. He was avoiding eye contact, clearly a great deal on his mind, but remained silent.

“There’s…something that you wanted to say to me?”

Sunday’s wings partially hid his flustered face as he attempted to force himself to make eye contact.

“Yes but… I am unsure of how you would feel about it.”

“You’ll never know unless you tell me.”

“If I may request of you, I wish to know your… response, before I do such.”

“To what? The letter?”

Sunday shyly nodded his head.

“It’s a cute letter,” Stelle said with a smile. “Very thoughtful and well written.”

Sunday tilted his head, as if he were silently inquiring, “that’s it?” Stelle wasn’t exactly known for being the sharpest tool in the shed, so it was likely that she missed the entire point of the letter. Alternatively, she knew his exact implications, and this was her method of easing into a rejection.

“I’m guessing you want to know how I feel,” Stelle said.

Sunday further averted his gaze, avoiding the question, but his Echoes were more than happy to answer for him. One nodded its head, another made the best possible thumbs up its whispy arm could manage. Even without the Echoes, Stelle still knew that he was hoping for a response.

“Fine, little birdie,” Stelle said with a laugh. “I suppose I won’t get a confession out of you any other way, eh?

“I’ve liked you, Sunday.”

He looked at her with immense shock, completely speechless and his wings outstretched.

“I was wondering if you were going to ever speak up.”

“You…you could tell? T-that I…?” Sunday asked in a panic.

“I could tell. Everyone could tell. It’s kind of hard to not be able to tell when you can’t even look at me without covering your face with your wings to hide your blush.”

“I suppose that you do make an unfortunately logical point,” Sunday said, doing precisely that.

“See? You’re easier to read than a book. And I don’t even know how to read.”

“I fear you may be exaggerating, Miss Stelle, as you clearly read my letter- “

“Oh right! The letter!” she interjected. “What was it that you wanted to say to me?”

“Ah…r-right. That. Well… if I may be permitted to say such within your presence, then I just wanted to say that…”

Sunday’s voice trailed off, and he seemed to have lost the words that he was going to say. His Echo companions were visibly becoming frustrated with his reluctance.

“Just say it, Sunny. Before I do. Or your little…oomfies… say something.”

“They’re not ‘oomfies!’ And don’t call me Sunny!” he said, swatting away the Echoes that were wearing away at his nerves. “I mean…m-my apologizes. What I really wanted to say is that…”

“That?”

“I…I love you, Miss Stelle,”

Forgetting about the letter she still held in her hand, thus dropping it, Stelle reached out and grabbed ahold of his wings and gently started playfully petting them.

“Hey! B-be careful!” Sunday said, in a flustered frenzy. “What in the name of the Order do you think you’re doing?”

“Just giving my boyfriend some loving pets. What else?” Stelle said in between joyful laughs.”

“Huh? I mean, boyfriend!? Then, does that mean you-“

Catching him completely off guard, she flung her arms around his back and pulled him close for a hug. Utterly flustered, his wings fluttered like a baby bird who had just taken flight. The words weren’t coming out of his mouth, and he was rendered practically immobile by the shock of this new, yet strangely pleasant, feeling. If Stelle were to hold him any tighter, then she would’ve more than likely shattered a couple of his fragile bones.

“Of course I love you, Sunday!” Stelle said. “How could I resist such an adorable gentleman?”

How could I resist a lady who still loves me despite all of my failures? he wanted to say, but was too choked up to speak.

[scarletwritesshit]

🧊Dan Heng x March 7th🧊Permafrost

Initially, Dan Heng had planned to accompany Caelus to Amphoreus alongside March 7th. Warp jump went off without a hitch despite low fuel supply. Those plans, however, were quickly thrown out the Express’s windows. Because nothing is ever allowed to go smoothly.

A strange sickness rapidly began to overtake March 7th. A little bit of disorientation was to be expected after a jump especially to those not accustomed to such heavily traveling (Sunday), but many system hours had passed and March’s condition only worsened. It had worsened in such a rapid fashion that resulted in her absence from a team meeting, behavior most unusual for her. It was even more unusual for her to show absolutely no interest in stepping foot upon Amphoreus to take photos for her album.

Upon realizing the severity of her condition, it was suggested that she stay behind for the duration of the trip, and it would simply be Dan Heng and Caelus’s mission this time around. Though, Dan Heng has absolutely no desire to land. He couldn’t hide his apathy for Amphoreus all that well, either.

"You are concerned about Miss March, are you?" Sunday said, taking notice of his nervous foot tapping.

"Of course I’m concerned about her. She’s my friend."

"You do not have to hide from me the fact that you two care very deeply about each other. It has been obvious to me long before I joined the Astral Express crew."

Dan Heng said absolutely nothing.

"If it would bring you peace of mind, I can travel alongside Caelus in your place."

"Are you sure you can handle such a place? You’re so... dainty."

Sunday’s wings twitched in irritation, but he did not refute his statement.

"I insist,” Sunday said.

"Let me go instead," Himeko interjected. "Dan Heng, you stay behind and keep an eye on March."

"If it’s too much trouble, I’ll accompany Caelus to Amphoreus anyways," he said.

"You’ll be at your worst if you’re on edge the entire time. Besides, I trust you far more around her than Black Swan anyways."

"I can still go in his place, Miss Himeko-" Sunday said, before he was cut off by Welt putting his hand on his shoulder.

"You’re coming with me, boy," Welt said.

Himeko nodded her head. "She should be your priority. Don’t worry about watching the rest of the Express, either. Thats why we have Pom Pom."

He knew that the next trailblaze destination was of top priority, but even with the entire rest of the crew in favor of him staying with her, he still felt as if he were abandoning his duty for selfish reasons. It’s not like he could do anything to help March. He wasn’t trained in any sort of medicine, and he was already beyond hopeless if not even Black Swan or Sunday could pinpoint what ailed her. But he would feel more at ease if he could stay by her side, though he wouldn’t be able to shake the lingering feeling of guilt for being so helpless.

With all eyes on him, he admitted defeat, and put his trust in the others to tackle their next destination safely. Without another word, he went into the passenger car and down the hallway and knocked on March’s door, afraid of hearing nothing more than a bitter cold silence. Much to his relief, she managed to mutter out a muffled response.

"Who is it?" March said, sounding barely awake.

"It’s me. Dan Heng. I’ve... come to check on you."

"Come in."

He opened the door to see her sitting at the edge of her bed. March was trying to remain up, but it was clear that she was struggling to support her own body weight. Dan Heng sat down beside her and wrapped his arm around her, nudging her against his shoulder.

She felt cold. Not the kind of cold one would expect from an Ice elemental, but rather, a coldness only felt on those long deceased.

"Is there... anything that I can get for you?" Dan Heng asked, unsure of what to do.

"Mmh... no. Just stay here," she responded sleepily. "Warm... Cold Dragon Young... you aren’t...."

Dan Heng's body naturally ran a little on the cold side being a Vidyadhara. March, of all people, found him warm. Now he was worried that should he move an inch, she would freeze to death.

Leaving her side was something he couldn’t bear to consider. He tightly held her close to his body. The silence from March was unsettling, even for an aloof man like himself. On every occasion that he came to hang out with her, she would talk for countless system hours nonstop about whatever nonsense occupied her mind that day. Other than a few words here and there, he was rather content with simply listening. Now, she hardly uttered a singular word, but Dan Heng knew better than to attempt to strike a conversation considering her current state.

Her head slumped, and she felt cold enough for ice to form on her body. Dan Heng’s cold blood would hardly be any help to her at this rate.

"...Would you like to lay down?" Dan Heng asked. "Rest is what you need most right now."

"Only if you move me... too… comfy..."

Dan Heng scooped up her little body in her arms and gently slid her under her blankets. He pulled up the covers and gathered her pillows and stuffed animals around her in an attempt to provide as much comfort to her as possible.

Her eyes were half closed and barely focused. With what little strength she still had left, she used it to watch Dan Heng.

"...I don’t think there’s anything in the archives on your sickness. I’m sorry. I can go look again if you’d like."

"Stay...here..."

Dan Heng couldn’t leave her after a request like that, though he couldn’t fit under the blankets with how snugly March was nestled in. He had to resort to simply sitting next to her bed. She was fighting sleep, thankfully still appearing to have life in her eyes, but Dan Heng couldn’t help but feel worried for her nonetheless.

"Can... I ask you for something?"

"Mm?"

"Can you turn into your Lunae form?"

"Is something bothering you?"

"No... I just think you’re pretty."

It was somewhat of a relief to know that March was still the same, in a way. Dan Heng listened to her request and sat back down beside her bed, wagging his tail in an attempt to get her to smile. Traces of such were faint, but she showed an ever so slight amount of joy.

"Don’t you have to leave with the others?" she asked.

Dan Heng shook his head. "They don’t need me. I’m here to stay with you."

"…I…I don’t want you to leave."

"I don’t plan on it," he said, reaching out and gently grabbing March’s hand, holding on as tightly as he could without his claws injuring her.

"Don’t fight sleep any longer. I’ll stay here. Promise."

"Mm..."

March surrendered to her exhaustion and fell into a deep sleep. Dan Heng noticed that around her, ice was beginning to crystalize on the bed and in her room. A cold mist had settled around them, which he had only noticed once it tinged him in his exposed chest.

Slowly, the stalagmites only grew larger in side. At this rate, the ice was going to completely freeze her once again, consuming Dan Heng with it. Despite this threat, he refused to go back on his word.

Dozing off for a period of time and waking up at least a few system hours later, he saw that the ice crystals began to bound him to March's hand. He refused to let her go.

He only held on tighter.

[scarletwritesshit]

What does the dead dove tag mean?

Wonderful question!

“Dead Dove” comes from this scene in Arrested Development wherein the character Michel Bluth opens a brown paper bag that reads: DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. He looks inside and sees what is in fact, a dead dove. The then says: “Well, I don’t know what I expected.”

In fandom, the tag has come to mean: “pay extra attention to the tags!” And/or “this fic is what it says on the tin!”.

So if, for example, a fic includes the tags: Body Horror, Gore, and Violence along with the Dead Dove: Do Not Eat tag, the author is saying “Hey I’m not joking about these tags! Read at your own discretion!”

The tag acts as an honest intensifier to whatever tags are already in the work, as the author using it wants to give a double warning for their content, that it may be triggering and that the reader should proceed with caution.

One fic tagged with Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, also includes the tags: Seriously, this fic deals with some serious and disturbing content matter, mind the tags

Thanks for asking and happy reading!

[scarletwritesshit]

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[scarletwritesshit]

📜Cristoforo x F!Rover📜Curtain Call Of Unscripted Feelings

Rover took ahold of the small bunch of papers and glanced down at it. It seemed as if she was always getting pulled into stuff. One minute she was fetching something for a man too lazy to walk the five steps, and somehow such a request would cause her to domino effect herself into fighting a Sentinel.

At least Cristoforo's request was simple enough. Do nothing more than read and act out a couple of lines from his latest masterpiece so that he could get a feel for the final product.

"That’s it?" Rover asked.

"Indeed, my dear lady," Cristoforo said, nodding his head. "No need for a blockbuster performance, though I have a feeling that such talent would come naturally from a hero like you."

"You flatter me greatly," she said, with a little blush, "thought it won’t be anything special since you just...asked me to read over a couple things. I don’t see how this could help you very much."

"Ah, but the ears may pick up on what the eyes cannot. Should something be out of place, this would allow me to pinpoint the issue and rectify it immediately.”

Seemed reasonable enough. That was perhaps the most normal request that could’ve come out of him, and it stood as her most tolerable mission on Rinascita to date. Definitely wasn’t anything compared to the practically nonstop TD hunting, which felt like it was beginning to consume every waking moment of her life.

She skimmed over the front page of the script. Nothing too complex, it appeared. Just some corny tale between a man and his apparent lover. Nothing she hadn’t seen before wandering around the streets.

How Rover was not tipped off that this practice was rather a devious ploy to win over her affection once and for all, even the greatest of historians would be puzzled by such a case.

In all honesty, she was just looking to be paid a few Shell Credits for her time.

"Well?" he said. "Is such doable for you?"

Rover nodded her head. "Just pay me good and my help is all yours."

"And pay you I will, my lady," Cristoforo said with a courteous bow. "Perhaps we should rehearse in an area away from the public eye? We do not wish to spoil the masterpiece before the show even begins."

Another red flag from the red-clothed man that perhaps should’ve tipped off Rover to his true intentions. However, it was unfortunately in character for a flamboyant playwright to seek assistance in such a fashion for such an undertaking, so she didn’t bother thinking twice about it.

"Where do you suggest we go, then?" Rover asked.

"Hmmm..." Cristoforo scratched his chin. "The city is not short of theaters quiet during the day. A small one will do for some mere reading."

"Lead the way," Rover said. "I only just got here, so I don’t know my way around."

With a wink, Cristoforo took Rover’s hand and lead her through the streets closely by his side. Yet another clear indicator of his intentions, but Lady Arbiter unfortunately was not the wisest.

The concert hall that he led her to was a rather humble one. Still, it’s inherit grandness was not to be understated, as the seats stretched as far back as Rover’s eyes could see. Either that, or she simply had really poor vision. Cristoforo took one huge step up onto the main stage, then reached down to help pull Rover up. He pulled out his small stack of papers and shuffled them together neatly as Rover looked down at hers.

She appeared to be starting first.

"For some very much needed context, you take on the role of a most noble soul, whose origins are most mysterious and her desire to protect a people unknown to her even stranger. I am but a humble knight, thanking her profusely for her service."

Rover nodded, understanding despite having not acted in a play before. That story did sound awfully familiar, after all.

"Well then, shall we commence rehearsal?"

Rover nodded once more, and Cristoforo cleared his throat.

"Oh, great lady from the stars!” he started, putting his soul into the words as if it were an actual performance. “My people and I thank you greatly for being the savoir we needed, yet the savior we did not deserve all the same."

"Think...naught of it. For I was only doing a service out of my own kindness." Rover stammered, the words not coming naturally to her at all.

"Your kindness to us all was undeserved, truly," Cristoforo declared, taking off his hat and bowing down. "If only there was some way that I could perhaps show my most profound thanks."

"Worry not, for I do not require such... what is that word? Such effusive forms of thanks."

Cristoforo put his hat back on his head, then walked around to Rover and put his hand on her shoulder. "Ah, but you and you alone had saved our humble lands Surely, there must be some form of compensation that is within my power to provide?”

Rover shook her head. "Nay, for I am simply fulfilling my sole purpose."

Cristoforo stepped in front of her and proudly turned to declare, "Surely, you must have far greater purpose than to be labeled as a savior and nothing more? You are one of us, after all, even we will never amount to anything as great as you."

Cristoforo was truly putting his all into the performance, despite it supposedly being only a simple read-over of a draft. Rover almost felt bad for the lack of effort from her performance. Almost.

Then again, she wasn’t sure exactly what he was expecting out of her, given that wearing the mask of a drama queen wasn’t her specialty.

She glanced down at the paper and read the instructions for her to strike a most noble pose as she spoke. Not sure how she could do such a thing without feeling awkward but...

"Do not compare our power and worth, as we stand as equals here and now."

"My lady, I do not deserve such blessings," he said, pulling his hand back onto his chest. "You almost give me hope."

"Hope for what, oh valiant one?"

Cristoforo smiled, and in one hand, he held the script behind his back. In the other, he gently took ahold of Rover’s hand. With a glint in his emerald green eyes that seemed almost too genuine to be a mere act, he got down on one knee.

"Rover, my darling, your beauty has me absolutely starstruck. From the very first moment we have met, you’ve outshone all lead actors that have crossed paths with me in my lifetime. All of them were most talented souls, alas, none of which I present before you is part of a scripted deception. Now and always, I find myself at the mercy of your stunning beauty and my undying love for you."

Rover stood there in absolute awe that Cristoforo seemingly pulled such lines out of nowhere. In fact, she could argue that those lines were written not for the goddess within the play, but rather, for her specifically.

Come to think of it, was any of this truly an act? Never once had he mentioned a person’s name throughout the entirety of this rehearsal, until this very moment. And that name just so happened to be her’s.

"...Thats not in the script," Rover pointed out.

"Oh, but it most certainly is. Read a little closer, darling."

Rover squinted at the end of the script.

The man playing the noble knight proceeds to confess his undying love.

"It didn’t say anything about the knight himself being the one to confess, no?" he said with a wink.

Slowly, the pieces finally began to fall into place. Was this all a ploy to rope Rover into listening to him confess his love for her? A ploy that she walked right into and now found herself caught like a mouse drawn to a cheese trap? She hated to admit it, but she found herself quite charmed by his clever and eccentric ways.

Rover had played along for this long, so why not see the rehearsal through exactly like he had hope to?

"Where’s my line?" Rover asked, noticing the lack of continuation on her end.

"That is for you to decide, my dear. An ad-lib, if you will"

This was no performance. Cristoforo was waiting for Rover’s genuine response. The halls of the theater were empty, yet she could feel all eyes on her.

Well, the script said nothing about the hero from the story being the one to speak, so she was going to speak as herself, just as Cristoforo had.

"I suppose you don’t mind if I offer you my feedback, then?" she said.

"Ah...have at it," he said, handing her the paper and a pen, unsure as to if this was a cruel rejection or she really was just that dense.

After a moment of tapping the pen against her chin, she scribbled down something and handed it back to Cristoforo. He looked down at the paper.

Rover drops her side of the act completely, and gives the playwright her honest feelings in return.

"Well? What do you think?" Rover said.

"I am... most curious to see the direction that you will take this in," he said with a nervous laugh.

Rover grabbed ahold of his hand and yanked him forward, causing him to trip over his feet. With all phantom eyes on her, she looked at him with a smile.

Clearing her throat and picking up from where he left off, Rover said, "Do not be at the mercy of your heart, for I too share the same feelings. Charming and enchanting your words may be, it is clear that you are no actor when it comes to such honesty."

"Really? I mean- your words flatter me, but I only speak what is true in my heart," he said, in disbelief while attempting to maintain his "act."

"And in return, I only offer my utmost sincerity as well."

Rover released him from her grasp. Though he was now free to stand on his own two feet, Cristoforo found it difficult to regain his balance.

"Well? What do you think?" Rover asked.

"Ah...but, did you take a moment to read the final page?" Cristoforo said, his feet nervously tapping.

She shook her head. Rover assumed that that was the final part of his so-called performance, though she had disregarded the script the moment she pulled him into her arms. Picking it up from where she dropped it, she turned to the back of the last page. It was likely hidden from her view on purpose in the event that his planned failed to avoid further humiliation.

The two embrace each other and share a kiss.

Rover looked back up at him blank-eyed and curious.

"...Should I have perhaps omitted that section from the script?" he asked.

"What? Not going to see the rehearsal all the way through?"

Seeing Rover’s willingness, he was going to reach out and grab her first, but she yanked him close by the collar of his shirt. Though the script now mattered not to the two, Rover and Cristoforo shared a kiss, at last bringing down the curtain on their act of hiding long standing feelings from each other.

"Bravo! Bravo!"

Their eyes went wide open and their bodies froze on the spot.

Though it was quiet, the sound of someone clapping could be heard from within the rows of seats. But the theatre was closed off temporarily for their private rehearsal; who could’ve possibly weaseled their way in? A curious staff member? A nosy passerby?

Slowly, they turned to see the identity of this unwanted visitor. Sitting in one of the back row seats, though it was rather faint, was a creme colored creature excitedly clapping its paws together.

"A-Abby!?" Rover shouted. "When did you get in here?"

"The same time that you did, dummy. But your heart rate shot through the roof waking me up, so I’d figured I’d investigate. And boy, was I not disappointed," Abby said as it drifted over to the stage.

"Ah...so you mean to tell me that your companion has been observing us for the entirety of our... session?" Cristoforo said.

"Been there the entire time!" Abby declared proudly.

"Abby, just, please go back to sleep," Rover said, waving her hand with her tacet mark in front of it.

"No way! I don’t want to be caught in the crossfire of your wild thoughts," Abby protested.

"...Wild thoughts? What wild thoughts?" Rover said, flustering.

Cristoforo looked at her and gave her a wink. He couldn’t possibly know about what Rover really thought about him. All she did was attempt to sneak a glance at him on an occasion and perhaps indulge in a daydream or two about him during her downtime…

...Oh. Perhaps he had figured her out long before she knew herself.