#Anja Harms

[skeletons-and-roses]

Pullin' your face close, wanting the inmost

Show me I'm not afraid of you now

I'm not afraid of you now

Villain and violent, infant and innocent

Baby, both arms cradle you now

Both arms cradle you now

— forwards beckon rebound by Adrianne Lenker

[edupunkn00b]

This bit in OFMD cracked me up because my pirate!Orange did something very similar.

lol this isn't that serious but i just wanted to know how popular all the interpretations are. no nuance in the answers lol.

if you think he genuinely did it but he's aware it was silly, the answer is still yes he's being serious, because you think he genuinely did that.

[toomanythoughts2]

I can't sleep so have a list of Metalocalypse OCs that I haven't fleshed out but think about all the time. Lot of sibling/extended family coded. I don't have romantic OCs, so sorry.

+ Anja and Aslaug have another miracle baby in their old age and hide it from Toki (Post "Dethfam"). After a year or so, Toki finds out about the baby. He freaks out because he knows the torment that she will endure if no one intervenes, so he files for custody of the child based on past child abuse allegations. Toki ends up having to go through a very long and intimate court session that make him reveal personal and horrific details of his own abuse. He has to go through the trials gaslit by lawyer, facing conflicted fans, and the press all asking for more. The case becomes the case of the century, with every eye watching. Toki ends up winning custody after all of it and gains full custody of a little girl. He ends up raising her with the rest of Dethklok.

+ Toki was a twin. Toki and his sister were separated around 7/8ish when their parents realized they couldn't keep feeding her. She gets sent to the extended family commune to work and eventually become a wife. The parents keep Toki because he is their sole labor force for the mill. When Toki escapes, he goes the commune first to rescue his sister but only finds a grave with her name. He flees from the grave, and goes to America. His sister faked her death at the commune, and once in the grave, dug herself out and went back to her house to get Toki. She found no one and could only assume he died. They don't find each other until 2 decades later when Toki's DNA is matched accidently to a crime scene in Norway, which reveals his sister. They reunited.

+ Toki was a twin. Same as above, except Toki never went to the commune and she never faked her death. Decades go by, Toki fully believes that his sister lost to the cult and will never come back, plus he is afraid of being rejected by her after all this time. He starts getting mysterious letters one day from her, pleading to come to the commune to get her and their cousins out. The head of the family (Grandfather) has gone more insane than usual and is making threats of harming all of them, including the children. Toki, without telling anyone, disguises himself as a parishioner from another sector of the cult to enter into the commune. Charles and the band are worried when Toki disappears and tracks him down the commune. By then, Toki and his siter have executed a plan where they lead the cousins out of the commune and into the woods, where at the edge of it is a boat that they get them into Denmark. Charles and the band meet Toki at the lake, astonished, and help lead the family to Denmark. Unknowingly, the grandfather tracks them in the woods and before all of them go on the boat, he took Toki's sister and threatened to kill her if they all didn't come back. Stuck on what to do, Toki was willing to trade his life for hers, until his grandfather was struck on the back of the head. His mother, Anja, had knocked him out cold, releasing her daughter. She leaves, looking over her children and her nieces and nephews on the boat. Toki and his sister rejoice on the boat, free at least and finally together again.

+ Toki adopts his cousin, thus becoming his daughter. One day, Toki is sent to Charles office. Charles is comber and breaks the bad news to Toki that his entire family, those on the commune, had been the victims of a massacre. His whole family was gone. Obviously distraught, Toki breaks down in tears. Charles consoles him and tells him that the Norwegian police are asking him to come identify the bodies for their records. He agrees to go. He arrives in Norway the next day, and lead to the police station. There, he meticulously identifies each body of his family, including his own mother. At the end, Toki talks to the police, and shares with him details of the event. In one detail, they tell him that they checked all over the commune and show him a labeled map. Toki corrects it, saying that they missed a room. A nursery under the main hall meant to keep young children close when the women were doing their daily chores. The police freak out that they missed and place and go back to the commune, Toki rides along because he wants to see the commune. Once there, they all head into the nursery, and there, alone in a corner, is a baby. No more than a few months old, it's a little girl. She is the sole survivor of the massacre. Once identified by a birth certificate found in a bible in her mother's room, she is brough tot he hospital to be examined. Other than a little hungry, thirsty, and dirty, she was perfectly fine. Toki is then asked if he wants her, as he is the only next of kin. After much deliberation, and a conversation with Charles and the band, he agrees and takes the little girl. He adopts her shortly after and she is known as the only legitimate child of Dethklok.

+ Toki is actually the youngest sibling out of 12, not the only child. Before birth certificates, birth records were written in the family bible. When Toki's mother dies, all of the possessions in the house are inherited to him. At first, he wants to burn it all, but decides against it because he desperately wants answers to his treatment. So slowly, he goes through everything until he comes across the bible and his mother's few diaries. He also comes across a few items that he does not recognize like some old girls clothes and tools with names on them that he didn't know. Looking through the bible revealed that Toki was the last of 12 children and that his siblings before him had all died due to the abuse of his parents. The diary corresponded with the death dates along with names, their duties, and their looks. The items he didn't recognize were theirs. Toki is considered Anja's and Aslaug's miracle child at first, then described as a curse from the devil later on. Toki has the whole plot of his property in Norway searched for the missing 11 children. Once found, all in different areas of the property, Toki rests in the house to process his discoveries. He ends up falling asleep and in his sleep, he meets with his siblings, all of which are grateful for being found and hopefully properly buried soon. Toki wakes up somber but happy.

+ Murderface has a younger cousin that he absolutely adores. She's the only one in the family that he has a good connection to and genuinely gets along with. He gets an invite to her wedding, after never knowing she was seeing someone. He spends the whole day frantically trying to figure out what to wear and what to buy her. The band helps out in comedic fashion with varying results, but they are all just as excited for him. They've never met this girl but they know how much she means to Murderface. After a lot of work, Murderface pulls together a stunning outfit (I'm thinking tight jeans, low buttoned shirt, hairy chest on top, actually groomed hair, and boots. He's a southern man, this is going to be a southern wedding, god damnit.) for the wedding and a perfect gift. (This is where Knubbler and him accidently run into each other and Knubbler is hella attracted to him because holy moly.) He goes to the wedding, expecting to meet the groom and low and behold, his cousin is marrying a woman. Turns out, no one in the family knew about her and the wedding doubled as a coming out party. A majority of Murderface's family left once they realized, but Murderface did not leave. He was having an internal struggle the entire night but he could not deny his cousin his presence. He spends the rest of the night getting plastered with her and his new wife, along with the wife's family. The next morning, Murderface comes stumbling back home, looking a wreck, but ultimately very happy for his cousin. (This is also where Knubbler finds him stumbling along in the hallway and is even more attracted to him.)

+ Murderface had a older sister type neighbor that tragically died at the hands of her father. When Murderface was little, he would often sneak over to his neighbors house to spend time with the older, teenage girl that lived there. She loved Murderface very much and treated him like family. Murderface adored her to his very core. Stella and Thunderbolt considered the girl to be part of their family, as she came over frequently to help Murderface with homework and babysit. This girl has plans of leaving town after high school to become a traveling musician, specifically a bass player. One night, when Murderface is upset and won't just sleep, she ends up taking him to his first ever concert. From there, Murderface wants to play music as well and wants to learn the bass like her, so that when she leaves, she can take him with her. Problem is that the girl lives with her abusive and acholic father that doesn't want her to leave. On the night of her 18th birthday, Murderface sneaks over to deliver her a present along with his bag and bass to leave. She tells him that she can't take him, he has to stay. They get into a huge fight, with Murderface leaving. About halfway home, he feels bad and turns around to apologize. Back at the house, he climbs into her window to find her missing. From the window, he can see her father carrying something large into the fields behind the house. It's her body. He freaks, leaves, and goes home, immediately calling the police. After a lot of confrontation, the police find her and her father. Murderface has to play witness at his trail to get him convicted, which he does. After the trial, he dedicates himself to playing bass professionally, in memory of her and her dream.

[thiswaycomessomethingwicked]

My friend and I are working on a little fun project of a letter series between Vetinari and Downey in their late 20s - so it's Snapcase era Ankh-Morpork.

Vetinari's returned from the Grand Sneer and is getting his feet in the City and beginning to set things up for his eventual coup. Downey is teaching/murdering people for oodles & oodles of money/living deliciously. 

Vetinari, being Vetinari, decides it would benefit them both to actually have some form of a functioning friendship because alloys are stronger etc. so they're writing letters because they're both super busy (we needed some premise for why it's mostly letters).

Naturally, some fucked up weird spooky murder shit happens.

My friend is writing Vetinari and I'm writing Downey.

Anyway, have the opening bit of Downey to Vetinari:

(Vetinari's written to say thank you for the plant, also people are doing weird things in a courtyard I can see into from my flat):

As usual, I’m uncertain about whether or not I ought to be offended by your missive. It’s longer than any previous letter you’ve cared to write me, which I take as a compliment. Or a sign of boredom? Unclear. All that said, I’m pleased you have enjoyed the companionship of Anja. She was only ever intended as a house-warming present. Which is a very normal thing for people to send, Vetinari. Even though you have been so cruel as to imply that you would do her harm through dropping her on me should I be so pathetic as to loiter outside your window. What am I? Romeo? As if you would be so lucky. What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and the Dog-Botherer wishes he were bright enough to be the sun! I must say, when you write about the fascinating things people get up to, there must be more happening than mere gambling and illicit pet procurement. Unless you meant something else by “exchange ferrets”. Because I’ve heard it’s an allusion to other acts between men. Not that I would know, of course.

William "I have never sucked another man's dick why would you ask that??" Downey

Havelock "We were at school together, Downey" Vetinari

[caitierose-butwithfics]

Birds Of A Feather

Description: After the events of Majesty, Jack decides it's time to move out of Nightswan tower, at least until they can defeat Nightswan for good. But when his final trip home turns more bitter then sweet, he finds help and sympathy in the most unlikely of places.

Authors Note: This is my first fic on this site, so please remember to reblog, like, and share your love. This particular fic is not based on any other preexisting fic. This is based on a prompt from the fabulous @anja-the-sane-sibling, so make sure to show them some love as well!! If you have a prompt you would like me to write about, make sure to message me!!! I also have a different blog, @caitlynnrosespn, which is my primary blog. (Side note: In advance, I would like to apologize for any missing special characters, since Tumblr is causing me issues :D)(Side note #2: If the panic attack scene reads a bit too much like Imperfect's panic attack scene, that's mostly because @thornkinglegacy is a terrific writer who perfectly wrote what being triggered looks like. I have PTSD, so I'm basing my scene off of actual triggers I experience:D)

VIEWER DISCRETION: There is discussion of child abuse, child neglect, and alcoholism. Characters are depicted to have scars on their persons, and one character experiences a trauma related panic attack. Mention of bruises, burns, and blood.

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Jack paced his old room impatiently. Wanderlust and the others insisted on helping Jack pack up his things, despite the fact that Mother had not allowed him to own much more than the clothes on his back. They said that this day may be quite hard on his own, and he should have others to help him. In a way they were quite right.

Jack had never lived anywhere outside of the Tower; had never even ventured outside of Cygnus. All his life he had been deepened on Mother to live, depended on her to decide he was worth something enough to keep him alive. Now that the Tower was empty of all inhabitants, Jack thought that he could just survive there until he figured out a better living situation. But things were... strange here. Odd things kept happening to Jack. He could be going down the stairs, and almost be to the bottom when he would suddenly reappear at the top. Or when he tries to sleep, how the second he drifts off a million hands seems to appear out of nowhere and cling on to him. Only when he wakes up, the feeling disappears instantly. Jack couldn't remember the last time he actually slept.

Wanderlust had asked his father about it,and his father said that it was possible that they were just lingering effects of Mother's magic. She had managed to disturb the Flow of millions of Dancers, after all. But, he also said that there was a possibility that Mother knew Jack was back in the Tower, and was trying to reach him through her magic. He said that that might explain why Jack felt like millions of hands were trying to drag him away in his dreams. Because they might be trying to drag him back to her.

Either way, The Traveler had suggested that Jack live with him while they sort things out. Jack would be safe with them, he had said, since The Traveler already had extensive barriers against dark magic around his home. They were quite the powerful family, after all. Jack had, at first, rejected the offer. For one, he barely knew Wanderlust's family. For years Mother had told him that they were terrible people, and while Jack knew she was probably lying, years of conditioning does wonders on one's psyche. And for another, if they were truly good people, he didn't want to put them in harms way. The Traveler may be powerful, but Jack had seen his Mother's power too. Were these magical barriers truly enough to keep them all safe from Mother's magic?

But despite his protests, Wanderlust was persistent. He was the only reason Jack eventually agreed. He trusted the Prince, and if he genuinely thought this was a good plan, that Jack will trust him.

Almost as if thinking about him summoned him, a portal appeared behind Jack, and four giggling people stepped out. Wanderlust, with Sara, Brezziana, and Mihaly. Their good mood was almost enough to brighten Jack's dim room. Almost.

"Jack!" Brezziana was always the first one to rush forward and give him a huge hug. Ever since the battle with Mother, Brezziana took every opportunity to remind him that he was one of them, despite who his mother was.

"You are about twenty minutes late," Jack said with a small smile, bending down slightly to wrap his arms around the energetic Dancer.

"We would have been on time if Mihaly hadn't lost their earbuds!"

Mihaly stood, admiring the room, earbuds surely blasting music, completely oblivious to the new attention turned their way. They spun on one foot, suddenly realizing all eyes were turned on them. They removed one earbud, and sure enough music loudly blared out of it. "What?"

That was met with more laughter as Mihaly did their customary bow. Mihaly was not one for physical touch, which Jack appreciated. Sara, on the other hand, gave him a soft hug. She always seemed to understand him better than the others, treating him gently and giving him space when needed.

Lastly, Wanderlust stepped forward, giving him his signature bow with the biggest smile. Jack gave him a slight bow in response. He didn't really know what was the right way to respond to his greetings, but that always seemed to work alright.

Brezziana bit her lip, taking the room into consideration. "Is this your room Jack?"

"Always has been."

Brezziana touched one of the gray walls. "But it just seems so..."

"Lifeless? I believe that's the point."

His friends looked at him, shock, disbelief, and sympathy all toying with their features. They knew his life was far from pretty, but now being inside of his childhood room, everything he said about his childhood felt different. Jack looked down, suddenly ashamed. He had been careful not to share too much about his childhood. Had they seen too much already?

The silence seemed to stretch out forever before Wanderlust finally said, a bit too cheerfully, "I have an idea! How about me, Brezziana, and Mihaly stay here to pack up your room, and you and Sara go and see if there's anything around the Tower you would like to take with us?" Brezziana nodded eagerly, while Mihaly shared a small smile. Jack stood for a moment, scared to venture much past his bedroom door. Finally, he nodded. His mother kept many things from him in this Tower, and it would do him good to find them again.

Sara grabbed his hand and gently guided out of the room, where the others were already packing up anything they could find. Their laughter, and Brezziana's startled "Dios mio, Wanderlust! Who taught you to pack?" were soon nothing but echoes in the halls.

"So, where do you want to start?" Sara asked, inspecting the walls of the Tower. Jack stared straight ahead, thinking about everything that he could possibly want from his childhood home. His clothes, of course, maybe a few trinkets from his room, his ca-

Oh no. His cane.

"Shit!"

"What's wrong?"

"My cane. It's in my rehearsal room."

"Oh. Oh no."

The rehearsal room. The room where he spent every waking moment of his childhood. The room where his mom tortured him with endless hours of dancing, singing, and beatings if he was not perfect. Jack could feel the sting of her claws still, making deep cuts on his face and his arms.

"Jack? I could go and grab it for you."

He shook his head. No, that wouldn't do. Because then he would be left alone. And he couldn't be alone right now. He couldn't go back to his room either. That would worry the others, and they would panic more than Sara if they saw him like this. The only option was to press forward.

He moved, almost mechanically, towards that dreaded room. Sara followed at a safe distance, biting her lip nervously. She was unsure of what she should do, what would even help at this point.

Jack considered leaving it, but that wasn't an option either. It was left for him by his father, and one of the only things from Father that Mother actually let him have. He couldn't leave that behind.

He reached the room, breathing heavy. The mirrors, identical to the ones underneath the performance room, were reflecting back his panicked face. In, out. He tried to keep breathing as he entered the room, unwelcome memories pouring in. Memories of his mom stalking the doorway, watching him dance. Watching him continuously fail. Always there to remind him what the cost of failure was. Such painful reminders, they always were.

There. His cane was lying, neglected, in the middle of the room. He just had to grab it and get the fuck out of here. But he could barely breathe, his vision blurry. Sara called his name, distressed. She had been calling his name for a little while, but he couldn't hear.

He dropped to his knees suddenly, unable to go further. He pulled his knees close to his chest, squeezing his eyes shut so hard that he could see patterns in his visions.

"Again." Mother would demand, watching him fall to the floor in exhaustion, not moving to help him up again.

"I can't," He would breathe in exhaustion. It didn't matter if he was 8, or 12, or 15, or as of just recently, 18. That response always would get her moving. She would stand over him, waiting for him to get up on his own. But he never could. Exhausted, sleep deprived, and starved, Jack couldn't move. So Mother made him. She would grab him by the arm, or the collar of his shirt, or his throat, and force him back to his feet, her claws always so close to tearing his skin. Sometimes she would cut him, to make a point.

"Did I say you could practice until you couldn't?"

"No, Mother."

"So when did I say you could stop practicing?"

"Mother, I can't do much mo-" A hard smack to his face would always cut him off. Those claws would often times would cut deep into his skin as well, leaving it blue, black, and covered in blood.

"When, Jack, did I say you could stop practicing?"

"When it's perfect," he would whisper pitifully.

"And is it perfect."

"No, Mother."

"Then you will keep practicing. I don't care how long it takes, I don't care if you drop dead! It will be perfect!"

She would throw him to the ground like a ragdoll, and it would take all of his willpower to stand up and keep practicing.

Jack could feel each tiny little scar on his arms, each one of them from her. She had always shamed him for how easily his arms scared. If he was truly strong, she said, she wouldn't be able to hurt him as easily. But he wasn't strong, Mother would taunt. He was weak. Fragile. Nothing. A failure.

Even now, he could hear her voice yell at him for messing up once again. Jack. Jack. Jack! JACK!

"JACK! Can you hear me?"

Jack blinked in surprise. That wasn't Mother's voice. He looked up to a shocking display.

Sara sat on her jacket, directly across from him, palms up. She was so concerned, her eyes focused on him. But that was the least shocking thing about her.

This was the first time he had seen Sara without her jacket. Scars danced up her arms, mostly burns that looked like they were caused by a cigarette, but some cut scars as well.

It took a second for her to notice where his gaze was, but when she finally did, she put her hands down and instead thrust her arms towards Jack for inspection.

"These? They were caused by my father. He always had a hot temper, but when my mom left him and I when I was 10? He uh... he found his comfort in other things. Alcohol, mostly. And when he was drunk, his temper turned from hot to scorching. And I guess I looked a little too much like my mom when he was drunk, so he took all the anger directed at her out on me." She gave an empty chuckle, lowering her arms. "That's why I poured so much of myself into my job. Why I hid myself. Wanderlust taught me to live when he transported me here. You guys helped me heal."

Jack stared at her, shocked. He would have never guessed that he and Sara were so...similar. She knew his pain. Things made so much more sense now. She looked him in the eye and gave him a small smile.

"You don't have to hide what you went through Jack. You're not weak because of the things she put you through. You were vulnerable, and she took advantage of that. But she's gone. We are here for you, now." She reached out and gently held out his hand. "And you are safe now."

Jack stared at Sara, something building in him. Safe? He didn't think he deserved safety. Love. But maybe Sara was right. Maybe...

Jack couldn't help it as uncontrollable tears slid down his checks. Sara smiled sadly, and wrapped her arms around him gently as he wept quietly on her shoulder. It felt good. Years and years of pain, sadness, and broken trust all let out in a moment. Sara gently rubbed his back, reassuring and encouraging him to let it all out.

Minutes, who knows how many, passed before Jack finally sat back, taking a wavering deep breath. "We should go back before they start to worry."

"Of course."

"First, I should probably grab my ca-" Jack looked up from wiping his eyes, to see Sara standing, already holding his cane.

"You needed some space, so I thought I would grab it for you," Sara said with a smile as she offered him her hand.

He accepted with a similar smile, only ruined a tiny bit by his red rimmed eyes. "Good idea."

He held his cane in one hand, Sara's hand in another, as they walked together out of the room that held so much hurt, so much pain. But no longer did it hold any power over Jack.

"Sara?"

"Hm?"

"Thank you. Thank you for... well... thank you."

Sara met his eyes with a kind smile. "Anytime.

***

Back with the others, Wanderlust, Brezziana, and Mihaly had made quick work of Jack's room. Thankfully, the red in Jack's eyes had gone down. He will tell them everything, eventually, but not yet.

"You ready?" Wanderlust asked with the biggest smile on his face. The excitement he had over having a new roommate was almost palpable.

Jack took one last look at the childhood room. The room that was vacant of life, vacant of light. It hadn't changed much, they hadn't taken much. No longer would he have to dread sleeping in this barren room. He looked down at Sara, who had a reassuring smile on her face, and took a deep breath.

"Yeah. I'm ready."

And all together, he walked through the portal with his four friends, into new beginnings.

[shini--chan]

As always, thank you for your fantastic work. You are literally the best author I know for yandere content. If I could please request from the alphabet list, I would have to please ask for Japan for Ra, Prussia for Aphrodite, and Suzaku Kururugi for Persephone. Thank you again and best writing to you!

The yandere alphabet: Yandere Alphabet: Gods & Goddesses. The pleasure is all mine. Thank you for your kind words. So without further ado, let’s get on with it.

Japan

Ra - Would they stalk you? How closely would you be watched while under their care?

Kiku would prefer electronic surveillance, though he would take the one or the other day to personally follow you around. In his mind, that is the perfect way of getting to know you closer. People tend to wear masks in public and additionally, react differently to each person they interact with. While he is naturally very good at looking beyond all the smoke screens and mirrors, watching you when you believe yourself to be alone would have its own, special and raw intimacy to it.

Besides, he would use the information he would gather to ensure that you’re the right one for him. Too many times has he been disappointed in the past, and doesn’t want to make another mistake. Japan would note your flaws and contemplate if they can be corrected and how to do so. Besides, he would be constantly haunted by the idea that you could find a romantic partner that isn’t him, that you could get a child that isn’t his, that you could leave Japan, that… That would drive him to stalking you, if only to smooth his ruffled feathers.

While in his care, he would turn down the stalking a bit. Since you would be so close to him, he wouldn’t be plagued by anxieties. And by being to close to you most of the time, he would be quick to pick up small cues and signs. Though, he would enjoy documenting your development. He would act like a scientist studying a brand new species, keeping meticulous track of any and all changes.

Prussia

Aphrodite - How would they express their love? Do they have a specific love language?

Gilbert is a tough cookie all in all, despite all his excursions into the realm of silliness. He is still pretty much the soldier and the intelligence officer and for a large part, he would see his relationship with you to be a mission to make the perfect person. His way of love would be helping you to become the best person you could be. Of course, that would mean the best version of you he can envision. To be more specific, that would entail callousness, as he would liquidate your flaws, and tenderness as he would encourage for good qualities.

In that sense Acts of Service & Quality Time would be his love languages. Prussia isn’t good with words and he would shy away from giving you a lot of physical affection in fear of coddling you too much. With the mentioned love languages, he would also lean more towards the latter than the former – while you would rely on him he wouldn’t let himself be reduced to being your servant.

Suzaku Kuuruigi

Persephone - Would they be willing to share, and if yes, then with who? Would they be willing to let you interact with the outside world? To what extent?

Suzaku would be plagued by the thought of being selfish. If anything, he would be painfully aware that indulging in his own desires like this would be the epitome of selfishness. Yet he wouldn’t be able to convince himself to let you go. To compensate for this he would be willing to share you with a choice selection of people, ones that wouldn’t steal you or harm you just to spite you.

I see him as sharing you either with Anja, and that only as long as he wouldn’t know what Lady Marianne did to her, and Princess Euphemia. Both would treat you kindly while also respecting his wishes.

He would be torn between letting you roam around and squirrelling you away to a secure location that you wouldn’t be able to leave. On one hand he has lost so many people dear to him, on the other it would increase his self-hatred to curtail your freedom to much. He would strike a balance – you would be allowed outside on the condition that you would be in his, or Anja/Euphemia’s company or in disguise with a tracking device on you.

While in royal company, he would rely on his status as Honorary Britannian and Knight to keep most of the people away from you.

[star3xian]

[Lore Dumping]

CW// Verbal Abuse, Physical abuse and violence.

So I wanted to flesh out Ulrich more and kind of thought of How 61 was sweet but bitter to the core. and before Hans was made I have to imagine that the “Marriage” Ulrich and Rike had was abusive with Rike often harming Ulrich as he didn't really fight back much due to his Trauma from World War 2 and stuff.

Since Ulrich Never fought back at her, he often had to endure a lot of pain, usually, It got sorted out and he dismissed his bruises, making up things to make sure nobody would get a glimpse behind his issues.

He was also not really into Rike but married her out of peer pressure because his mother forced him, due to his other siblings at the time who all had partners

And she didn’t want Ulrich to end up alone.

Basically, he went through a lot. Due to all of this pain and trauma, he has a hard time getting angry. It kind of also makes it hard for him to find a lover.

He often still has nightmares and sleepless nights from everything. Due to that he is often very tired and needs more sleep than other trains around the shed.

He got Hans and Anja to comfort him but he also does not want to be a burden on them.

He however managed to hide it pretty well from others. He is troubled but can't show it really.

[shadowqueen402]

Well then. In that case, time for plan B: a karaoke night in the Bia residence. Pharia chose the song Skyfall by Adele. She’ll be singing alongside Jett. Can you do that?

Here’s the link to the song.

(Okay. I've listened to the song. While it's not my favorite song from Adele, I can do this fic.)

"What's going on here, you two?" Iben asked as she entered the living room.

"We'd figure that we'd have a karaoke night," Pharia said. "I've gotten singing lessons as a kid. Now it's time for me to put them to good use."

"Not too loud, okay?" Jon said. "Erik and Anja are sleeping. Erik has school tomorrow and Anja is still a baby."

"We won't be too loud," Jett said. "Let me adjust the volume of the television so it won't be too loud." Jett touched the buttons so he could lower the volume. Then, he started to play the song. And he sang the first verse:

🎵This is the end

Hold your breath and count to ten

Feel the Earth move and then

Hear my heart burst again

For this is the end

I've drowned and dreamt this moment

So overdue, I owe them

Swept away, I'm stolen🎵

He and Pharia sang the chorus together:

🎵Let the sky fall

When it crumbles

We will stand tall

Face it all together

Let the sky fall

When it crumbles

We will stand tall

Face it all together

At Skyfall

At Skyfall🎵

After this, Pharia sang the second verse:

🎵Skyfall is where we start

A thousand miles and poles apart

Where worlds collide and days are dark

You may have my number, you can take my name

But you'll never have my heart🎵

Then, Pharia and Jett sang the second chorus:

🎵Let the sky fall (let the sky fall)

When it crumbles (when it crumbles)

We will stand tall (we will stand tall)

Face it all together

Let the sky fall (let the sky fall)

When it crumbles (when it crumbles)

We will stand tall (we will stand tall)

Face it all together

At Skyfall🎵

Jett started singing the bridge of the song:

🎵Where you go I go

What you see I see

I know I'd never be me without the security

Of your loving arms keeping me from harm

Put your hand in my hand and we'll stand🎵

Then, Pharia and Jett sang the last chorus together:

🎵Let the sky fall (let the sky fall)

When it crumbles (when it crumbles)

We will stand tall (we will stand tall)

Face it all together

Let the sky fall (let the sky fall)

When it crumbles (when it crumbles)

We will stand tall (we will stand tall)

Face it all together

At Skyfall🎵

Pharia ended the song by singing the outro:

🎵Let the sky fall

We will stand tall

At Skyfall

Ooh🎵

Iben and Jon both applauded the two. "Well done, you two!" Jon said. "That was an amazing performance. You two are excellent singers!"

[musings-of-a-lit-student]

The Honeymoon

Disclaimer: I don’t own Maus or any of Spiegelman’s work. I have attached the photos from the work itself, but do not claim to own the scanned version either. I highly recommend purchasing the book to support the original author. My thoughts do not represent the author's work and are merely my own interpretations.

Warning: MAUS is a graphic novel based on the author’s father’s experiences during the holocaust and includes anecdotes and scenes including violence, blood which may be considered triggering. 

Introduction: The work MAUS by Art Spiegelman is a novel that tells the story of Vladek Spiegelman and his experiences during the holocaust using an allegory and parallel storylines to depict the Vladek's past and Artie's present as he hears the story from his father. This work includes an autobiographical and biographical element due to the inclusion of two main characters - Vladek and Artie. Spiegelman makes the decision to introduce himself as a character in the work as a mouthpiece for himself.

Main Characters: Artie: The author Vladek: Artie's father Anja: Artie's mother Mala: Vladek's second wife Françoise: Artie's wife

Navigation ->The Honeymoon Masterlist -> Previous Part

MAUS by Art Spiegelman

Points of Interest:

Darkness

The entire title card is doused in a dark hatching which makes it look more sinister and covered up. It seems to present the tone of the chapter, with the first introduction of the swastika in the book's plot. As the work continues Spiegelman uses dark images to depict the trauma and horrors lived by the jews and this image is the beginning of the Nazi's reign, and the darkness that follows.

Cover Page

The cover page of the work has a similar picture of the flag in the background creating a sense of continuity and danger with the symbol. The context aside, the placement of the picture seems to refer to the cover page, since the jews are facing the flag while on the cover page Vladek and Anja have their backs to it. This presents the introduction of antisemitism to the readers and jews making it a momentous point and image.

Contrast

The concept of a honeymoon and the gory denotations of the swastika create a lot of contrast which Spiegelman does purposefully. While continuing on in the chapter, we see there are layers to the marriage of Anja and Vladek which Spiegelman has no way to learn about, and their honeymoon reveals rather concerning undertones to it. Adding to that Spiegelman also introduces the nazis to the work at this point making it more tense. Thus Spiegelman presents the flaws of people in the time beyond the nazis suggesting domestic conflicts were still relevant despite the turmoil and oppression they suffered during the Holocaust.

Hierarchical Position

The placement of objects is reminiscent on the cover page and jews stare up from the bottom at the swastika placed prominently gaining a lot of attention. This placement mimics the social hierarchy, however the way the mice stare at the symbol of their destruction is daunting and creates a situational irony given their role in the holocaust. Additionally the upwards static placement makes them appear more vulnerable and weak to harm from the waving flag.

Next Part

[anja-us]

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[anjaofthewild]

[stay] – enok offers anja a place to stay, so that – wherever she got these bruises – she doesn’t have to go back. :)

The young man was foolish. She could tell her quiet stare had unnerved him, and yet he still grinned, wearing the expression like a veil of bravery. He only stopped grinning when her hood was pushed back and all was revealed.

Bruises. A few old, most new.

Her father had lost coin by gambling it and it was mother and daughter who felt it the most. Life would go on. They could live from the forest, they could live simply. It didn't matter if they couldn't have meat on the table until a rabbit was caught — or a deer, hunts be praised.

But that wasn't the way her father wanted it. No, he wanted sliced pork and fine grain for fresh bread. Apricots were in season though he wanted the sweet grapes from the south. Even if he had his every whim and his pockets exploded with coin he would be bottomless with greed. Never satisfied. Always taking.

In contrast, the young man was giving. She could tell he had nothing to his name. Of course she could see he was an escaped slave. He could hide the branding all he wished but the braids and beads in his hair told a different story. No one of his background travelled through the northern lands because they wanted to be there. He was following quieter roads. More difficult terrain. Hoping that the mountain was too much hassle and himself of too little value to retrieve.

"I'm going to kill my father." Anja claimed. An odd answer to his offering of help. "I have gathered enough poison to kill him five times over. So, I cannot join you at your camp. I have a job to do."

Then she hesitated. Almost seemed to say something, faltered, then had an internal argument about it. Finally she exhaled a deep breath through her nostrils. "Show me your camp. I won't bring harm to you, don't look wide-eyed. You might need to move. I know where no man or hound will come looking for you."

[edupunkn00b]

Do Us Any Harm, Chapter 1: Good ‘N’ Evil

Rage rumbled across the Mindscape.

Chapter 1: Good 'N' Evil - Next - Master Post - [ AO3 ]

CW: Peril, blood and injuries (non-graphic), minor character deaths, swearing, Remus (innuendo, suggestive comments, thots on injuries, etc.) - WC: 1767 Art by @incognetomisquito | Beta read by @psychedelicships

And a little bit of love wouldn’t do us any harm… - Nelson’s Blood by the Wellington Sea Shanty Society, from the traditional sea chanty, Roll the Old Chariot/A Drop of Nelson’s Blood ---

Good and evil And their merits Men have argued through history As well they should - Good 'N' Evil, Jeckyl and Hyde ---

Rage rumbled across the Mindscape.

How dare Roman blame Thomas’ failed audition on him? It had been months since Thomas had formally accepted Remus and he was no longer locked away hidden in the depths of Thomas’ Subconscious. Even before introducing himself to Thomas and gaining his official, if rather begrudging, acceptance, Remus had long been quietly contributing workable and fruitful suggestions to the other Sides. 

He knew it had been Remus’ rambling about how hot Patton would look in a skirt that started the entire ‘Sides in Skirts’ series. Yes, as much as it pained Roman to admit it, it had actually been Remus’ idea to livestream Janus playing Among Us. And, yes, it was one of Remus' manic episodes that had allowed Thomas to remain on schedule when he had fallen behind on video editing, and Remus silently took over so Roman could get at least a bit of rest.

He had even begun openly working together with Roman on Thomas’ more personally creative endeavors, including performances and auditions.

Remus’ suggestion to sing Lucy’s song, Good ‘n’ Evil from Jeckyl and Hyde at his big audition with Hitchcoppolucas’ director friend had been a solid contribution. In the lowered key he and Roman had devised, the style and the melody of the song delightfully showcased Thomas’ singing range. The message of the song was fitting for a more mature, thoughtful audience. It was a perfect choice for Thomas.

How could Remus have predicted the director’s disastrously closed-minded reaction?

When the song had ended, the production assistant sat frozen in her seat, glancing at the director out of the corner of her eye. The director looked out at Thomas on stage, lips curled in disgust. “What in God’s name was that? I’m casting for the male lead, not some tr-” The stage manager tugged on the director’s arm, interrupting his tirade, whispering fiercely in his ear. “I wouldn’t give a fuck if Jesus Christ himself sent this guy in to audition, get him off my stage!” The director stormed out without even glancing at Thomas again, the stage manager following a moment behind.

The PA stood and called out to Thomas where he was rooted to the stage floor. “Th— Thank you so much for coming in, Thomas. We’ll reach out if—” she cringed as the door to the sound booth slammed open and the director’s ranting voice could be heard for a few moments before the stage manager quickly pulled it shut again. Thomas held it together long enough to get home before he collapsed in a despondent heap in his darkened room, turning off his phone and pulling the covers over his head.

Roman’s condemnation had been swift and brutal.

“How could you ruin this opportunity for us, Remus?” Roman marched up to Remus, hands fisted on his hips, face flushed. “This was going to be Thomas’ second chance!” He flung an arm out, as though pointing at the audition room. “That casting director is also running auditions for the new Disney movie next week. They will never let us audition now.” Roman threw his head back, dragging a hand through his perfectly coiffed hair. “And once Hitchcoppalucas hears from his friend, that other audition is a hopeless dream, as well.”

Roman collapsed onto the couch in the common room, burying his face in his hands. “You’ve ruined everything.”

“Don’t you dare try to pin this on me! It’s not my fault the casting director is some sexist, homophobic bigot who wouldn’t recognize talent if it jammed its fist up his—”

---

Virgil sat next to Patton part-way up the stairs, arm wrapped around his shoulders as the typically-cheerful side sniffled and wiped away tears. “I dunno, Virge, this fight feels different.” They peeked through the banister at the arguing brothers. “Roman won’t even look Remus in the eye.”

Virgil swallowed, staring at how Remus’ hands were shaking. He tightened his grip on Patton’s shoulders, gnawing at his lower lip, not knowing what else he could do.

Logan and Janus stood on the upstairs landing. Logan grit his teeth, hands fisted with his arms crossed in front of him as he listened intently to both the words and tone of the argument. He counted out his breaths, his short nails digging into his palms as he stifled the urge to throttle the Princely Side. Janus leaned against the wall near him, feigning nonchalance, examining his nails through his gloves and wearing a bored expression.The shakiness in Janus' left pinkie and the way the pupil in his snake eye contracted at each of Roman's outbursts, though, told Logan that he was far from calm.

Logan watched as Janus' eyes shifted between the fight downstairs and himself. ”It'ssss going to be fine," he murmured quietly to Logan as he shifted closer. "Roman will calm down and apologize, and we can talk to Remus."

Logan lifted his glasses and rubbed his burning eyes. The fight was beginning to give him a headache, a burning, buzzy feeling sparking just behind his eyes. He tried to breath deeply against the pain-induced tightening in his throat and chest. He frowned at Janus, "I hope you are right "

Roman and Remus argued constantly, but, until today, those arguments had also resulted in some of Thomas’ best work in years. The Fanders had loved the bit with Patton stealing the table, and Thomas’ shirtless photoshoot went viral faster than any of his posts since Virgil in a Skirt™.

Virgil flinched when Roman raised his voice.

---

“Yes, it is. This is completely your fault! It’s just like you not to consider the consequences of your so-called ‘creativity’. Just more of the usual destructive, stupid, chaos you’re always coming up with.” Roman shook his head, crossing his arms in front of him. “I knew this would be a disaster.”

“C’mon, Ro, we can come back from this.” Remus shrugged away his own self-doubt. “Let’s get Nerdy Wolverine in here… He can help. We need to get some ideas going and we'll come up with a way to get Thomas a retake on the audition.”

“No, Remus. Not the audition. This ,” Roman said, waving his arms between them, his voice cold and calm. “Us, trying to work together. Thomas never should have accepted you.”

Remus felt his heart crack and splinter as he stared into his brother’s eyes. Roman wasn’t just spouting off in anger and saying things he didn’t mean. His voice was controlled, jaw set and the hand that pointed at his chest was rock steady. Roman meant it.

Remus’ face grew dark and his hands formed fists at his sides. The lights in the Mindscape started flashing and morphing, and a low rumble shook the floors. “Take that back.”

---

Fists tightening, the nails on Logan's ring and middle fingers pierced his palms. He closed his burning eyes, trembling as he clung to the 4-7-8 breathing pattern. Janus did not see his shaking, his attention fixed on the movement of the brothers' shadows at the bottom landing. “We shouldn’t go down there and ssstop this,'' Janus murmured.

Logan nodded, jaw set, and all four raced down the stairs. As they moved, the rumbling in the Mindscape grew louder. The staircase morphed between the usual, carpeted steps to a large, curved marble expanse, and then into a tiny Jeffries tube. It switched again to a musty stone staircase, complete with dripping stones lining the walls and flickering torches set every few feet.

Their clothing changed as well, first shifting some of them into American police uniforms and others in ripped jeans, hoodies, and bicycle helmets. Then they found themselves in strange muted overalls before finally blipping back to their standard clothing.

Patton got to the brothers first.

“Roman, Kiddo, I think you owe your brother an apology,” Patton called out, his voice tight and half an octave too high. “And then we can all just calm down.” The other three had finally made their way to the common room as Patton reached for Remus’ hand. “How about we make some cookies? We can do a batch with anything you want in them.”

Remus ripped his hand from Patton’s grip. “No. No, if Roman thinks this was a mistake, then that meansThomas does, too.” Remus’ voice had doubled in on itself and the rumbling sound began to be drowned out by Remus’ echoing words. “That’s just fine. I’ll just go back to the Subconscious and rot . And I’m taking half of Thomas’ creativity and all of his self-confidence with me, though, so no more skirts, no more photoshoots.” He glared at his brother, striking a regal pose heartbreakingly similar to Roman’s Princely stance. “You’ll be stuck rehashing the same old saccharin content from 2016.

Janus moved in between Roman and Remus to stand as a buffer between the brothers, while Logan stepped close to Remus.

He carefully gripped Remus’ shoulders, trying to catch the raging Creativity’s eyes. “Remus… Remus, please listen to me… please.” Logan couldn’t hear his own voice and he doubted Remus could, either, instead relying on physical contact to try to break through and snap Remus out of whatever spiral he was drowning in.

He carefully stroked his thumbs up and down Remus’ tense shoulders, trying to help ground him and free him from the rage that was surrounding them. He found that focusing on calming Remus was helping ease his own fury at Roman's words.

At first, it only seemed to aggravate him, and Remus trembled under Logan’s touch. After a few minutes, though, Logan felt the muscles in Remus’s shoulders gradually start to relax.

Logan had just gotten Remus to start to turn away from Roman, facing the other side of the room when Roman shouted over the noise, “Be careful, Logan, you shouldn’t get too close to him.”

Roman’s gaze burned into the back of Remus' head and he turned around to face his brother once more. Logan pulled him back, tightening his grip on his shoulders and leaning closer. He touched their foreheads together and whispered, “Remus, no… Stay with me....”

Roman continued to address Logan, “He’s just going to try to convince you to do things you know you shouldn’t do. He’s going to make you feel like you’re special to him but really…” Roman narrowed his eyes at Janus now. “They’re both just trying to trick you.” Roman let out a humorless laugh. “It’s a good thing you’re Logic and don’t have any real emotions for them to play with and twist against you, though, huh?”

The moment the words left Roman's lips, a deafening static filled the air. The Sides all felt the tiny hairs at the back of their necks raise and their bones seemed to vibrate with a rumbling that came from everywhere at once.

With a blast, the Sides were flung into the air as the Mindscape turned inside out. --- @psychedelicships @incognetomisquito

[deada55]

Bethany

crossposting: ao3

synopsis: A continuation from The Mill. Anja tends to Toki while she can.

content warnings: general grossness/slight gore, lots of God talk.

for kloktober day 26, recovering or getting worse

    What a wonderful dream! Not one but two kerosene lamps lit up the bedroom, and it was more beautiful than Toki could have ever remembered. His mother sat in front of him, on his left side, her face clear and sharp in the brightest, burning orange moonlight. Her soft fingers dragged warmth diagonally across his hand, so effervescent and light that it simmered into his hand. The air itself was heavy and molded just for the shape of his body under the blankets-

    Being in the bed was too unbelievable to be a dream and he jumped out of the haze to find out it was true. Burning pain broke through the muscles of his back and they started to flex and flutter, sputtering in the discomfort like they had minds of their own. Ache swallowed whatever power left in his chest. Someone might as well be hitting him over the crown with a stone, and he had to let his eyes blur to let the sharp slamming dull. 

    His mother’s hand traveled up to his wrist and she stood. Just when her other hand reached for his face, he lost track of her entirely. 

    When he woke up again, only one lamp lit the room. He rested across his mother’s skirt, close enough to see furrows of wool fibers in the fabric. Wiggling, jagged patches of scab clung to the bandages like the legs of an insect as his mother struggled to tease them away. She wet a cloth in a spare pot and folded the mass over a patch of bandages. Even through the layers, he could feel the outline of her hand dabbing where the gauze had stuck to the soft, festering spots of his skin that would rather stay raw. 

    When he grunted, she carded his hair with her other hand to show a little love. Cleaning the wounds didn’t take as long as the first washing, cleaning the dirt from her limp child. Most of the fourth day had been spent sinfully, praying to be heard above the others, ungrateful for the blessings-at-hand and she caught herself absorbed in bathing her son not for his own desires but so she can bury him with dignity, like a person, not an animal caked in filth.

    How dare she have such doubt? Her husband would never harm anyone to the point of death, and she ought to believe in the goodness of God and the glory of what He weaves into time; she never should have been afraid. He knew what was the best for the world. He gave her Toki, and He’d take him in an equally perfect action that she was powerless to frown or smile towards. God was the ultimate, the everything, and the invisible that shepherded whether you wanted it or not. 

    She was powerless to prove the truth that he was placed in the day before the sabbath!  It was a week then, and a week and a day on the sabbath itself when labor was prohibited and they couldn’t work, and a week and two days when Aslaug and some other men left at dawn to repair the mill. She had to hope that they'd collect Toki and, thankfully, mercifully, she found him released from the punishment hole on the morning of the third day. She didn’t want to interrupt his rest after such an ordeal, and she couldn’t tell what he might have needed, so she resolved to wait until he woke on his own. When the morning turned over into the evening, Aslaug then advised her not to wake him, and she dared not be a disobedient wife, although their bedroom had taken on a balmy, bready, sour, stink. The following morning, the fourth day, Toki looked as if he’d been cured in lye, laying in the dry ring of a former puddle and blanched white.

    In the eyes of her doubt, it was a murder. In the opinion of the faithful, corporal punishment delivered in the name of God is only fatal to the unsaved. She didn’t remember going downstairs, but she remembered Aslaug looking surprised above all else, and going upstairs out of curiosity alone. 

    The purpose of the silence in the village has always been to show love in acts and avoid the complexities of hearsay and a flourished vocabulary. Actions hardly lied. When it was necessary to speak, one should speak parsimoniously, so the spirit could choose the words that were most pleasing to Him. Everything you did should be a reflection of God, and God cared, he had to care.

Toki was limp in her lap and all the bandages kept coming off heavy-laden with suppuration. Pinpricks of blood became steady oozes, popping around the pink edges that were still too tender to clot reliably. She were dressing the living dead: All she could do was love him until he was gone. 

After she had applied fresh dressings, she wrapped her arms around to his front, where she could comfortably let his weight rest in her hands without mashing into any wounds, and brought her legs onto the bed entirely. With her weight balanced, she could pull him into her lap… He’d grown so much that it made her head swim, but he still fit well in the cradle of her arms. Without resistance, without moving at all, he laid there with half-opened eyes. If this were a metamorphosis, he was an empty cocoon.

    The gentle, stinging pressure of her arm across his bloody shoulders was worthwhile for the coolness of her cheek against his bruised temple. He fought sleep to feel her kisses and the tentative, nervous rocking that the mattress would allow without creaking. The room fell away from being only a room and sunk through the floor, and the permafrost under it, as far as his senses could tell. Dropping, spinning… his mother’s movement became his only sense of orientation.

    Selfish, selfish! Her tears rolled into his hair. She couldn’t bear to look: it felt like his breath was stumbling into him by chance. Any mother would weep, but he deserved to die in peace. How could her tears help him now? The anger at her wasted anguish was blinding. She ground her teeth in pedantic blessing of her son coming to an end. Her prayers didn’t protect him. She had ignored the reality of the physical life before the eternal and she’d failed to keep him safe. Dead children couldn’t live to serve.

    She didn’t deserve a miracle, and for that reason alone he wouldn’t get one. For a just and fair God, he loved the sadism of punishing a child with his mother’s inadequacy, of bringing him here only to spend his life laboring and getting bark embedded in the open wounds by the crook of his neck. 

Aslaug’s hand was firm; when his hands folded in prayer his knuckles stuck out from his skin like rock. His gift was finding fault in everything.

    Just when she thought to cast herself over a cliff once she’d seen to a proper burial, he moved, turning from the hip and bringing his face into the front of her dress. Her left hand hurriedly pushed his hair back to see if he’d opened his eyes…

    “Toki,” Her voice split like a rotting branch. “speak.” 

    She broke the silence again before faith could stop her, “Say something if you can hear me, please-” Her thumb stroked his cheek and remembered when he was so new that his eyes hadn’t opened. She’d spent the whole first year luxuriating in baby-smell and his weight on her chest, in waking up to tend to him and doing her daily prayers over his first thin sprouts of mousy hair. She loved him so much that it seemed too decadent to be obedient: he was her greatest joy, she loved spending time with him…

    He’d always be her greatest joy.

    “Toki?”

    Looking up must have been a strain, but he did it, his pale eyes tracking around and settling on her. Not deaf-blind yet, not dead yet… She rested her lips over his eyebrow.

Far, jeg takker deg fordi du har hørt meg.

    She got him to drink water in front of an audience of some of the most active parishioners, come to pay their respects and support the Reverend. She watched them shake Aslaug's hand in the doorway of the sick room, where the thick, mealy-smell blended with the drafts in the hallway and she wondered if they thought to ask what it was.

[edupunkn00b]

@incognetomisquito 's art is so incredible and I love the scenes they chose to depict!

Do Us Any Harm [art post]

This year i had the honor of participating in @ts-storytime’s Sanders Sides Big Bang. And I am proud to present my art for the fic “Do Us Any Harm” written by the esteemed @edupunkn00b!!

It was super fun to collaborate with them, and if y’all enjoy sailors, pirates, and historically accurate yet angsty shenanigans, this fic is definitely for you!

Read the fic here [or here for Ao3]

Check out my instagram for additional process videos

[concept art under the cut]

[only-we]

It was stifling, being among so many people. The streets stank of manure, and not only of the horses, but wolves and human chamber pots too. Her nose scrunched up and she firmly pulled her hood lower. For such a grand place it was filthy, and stripped bare of any natural beauty. There were few trees within the town surrounding the fire King's castle.

Anja waited among others. Some merchants. Most farmers. All seeking an audience with the King himself. It was a day for settling petty disputes and considering requests. By the time it was her turn to enter the throne room, he had already seen perhaps a hundred others.

She padded barefoot. Feet caked in mud and other undesirables, no doubt, and for a moment she paused to simply look around. His halls were larger than any building she had seen in her life. Befitting a King, she supposed, but it all felt so bare and devoid of any warmth. A place for business. Not a home.

"State your name and your business." Miller prompted.

Anja glanced back to him. Her eyes trailing away to instead focus on the King. She did not bow, nor did she curtsey. But she offered a smile.

"I bring a prophecy for him." Her head lifted in motion to the so-called dragon. "You will reduce the world to ashes, that I have seen. Your heirs will fall and your wards will be bled out." Anja shifted, showing both her palms. A small act to convey she meant no harm. "Cast your eyes where the flowers grow. You will find her there. A flower maiden, soft and small. She will break your fate."

Jacob gave little credit and attention to those who claimed to see the future. he always had. because there were more frauds among them than on the illegal markets that flourished in the darkest alleys of any bigger town. They harped on someone's fears and doubts. They fed into them. Nourished what was just small. And with that they slung their strings around their victim, making it their puppet.

Jacob did not intend to end up being a mere puppet to some little wretch.

So after she had finished her 'prophesy', Jacob sat still on his throne for a few more moments. He could hear the soft shuffling of little feet behind his throne. There were a few doorways, one leading to a room where the twins usually resided when he had business here. They read. By a warm fire. He called them sometimes to learn the ropes of leadership here. But they hadn't been called now. Still, they seemed to be drawn in by this woman's presence.

'Stay.'

The thought was an order and one that Jacob was never sure, whether it reached Ariadne and Vergil, but usually their ability grasped for every mind around them. So they better listen. They were safe back there. From attacks and from false fearmongering.

Slowly, Jacob stood to his full height, staring down on this stranger.

She was shrouded in her hood. Looking mysterious. Anonymous.

A sharp grin split his beard.

"A flower maiden you say? Soft and small? And she is to save all of our souls and lives?", he scoffed, his voice deep, resonating in his broad chest. Shaking his head, Jacob threw a brief glance to his sons, who witnessed this all from the sides. They were old enough to know such words meant nothing.

"You did not even state your name, stranger and yet you come here and try to harp on fear and threats of death. Towards me. And my family. That is very thin ice you step upon... and what would you have to gain from doing this, apart from trying to worm your way into a cozy position here as some kind of advisor? I bet you would be just great to find this flower maiden... no doubt a sister of yours. So. Tell me your true business. Your motivations to come here. Or leave without a further word. I have no time for charlatans."

@anjaofthewild

[imperatorium]

I hope this isn’t too much of an ask but can you please post screenshots of the songs on your playlist “of all the demons, of all the dark roads” because Spotify has had a really stupid and pretty bad update where they won’t allow you to look at other people’s playlists at all anymore even when you play them

Not too much of an ask, at all! And I'll do you one better - I'll just post the tracklisting here:

Savage Garden, "To The Moon & Back"

Ghost, "Cirice"

Lacuna Coil, "Enjoy The Silence"

And Then She Came, "Perfect As You Are"

Black Tape For A Blue Girl, "Knock Three Times"

Icon & The Black Roses, "Running Up That Hill"

Lana Del Ray, "Once Upon A Dream"

Ghost, "Call Me Little Sunshine"

Sergey Lazarev, "You Are The Only One"

VNV Nation, "Dark Angel (Gabriel)"

Adam Lambert, "If I Had You"

Emilie Autumn, "Remember"

Dommin, "Without End"

Madonna, "Skin"

WALK THE MOON, "Shut Up And Dance"

She Wants Revenge, "Out Of Control"

69 Eyes, "Dance D'amour"

Jill Tracy, "Evil Night Together"

Death Cab For Cutie, "I Will Possess Your Heart"

Scarlet Dorn & Chris Harms, "I Love The Way You Say My Name"

Hawthorne Heights, "Corps of Corpses"

Lorde, "Everybody Wants To Rule The World"

Vian Izak & Juniper Vale, "Witchcraft"

Ghost, "I Believe"

Hozier, "Take Me To Church"

Depeche Mode, "Sister Of Night"

Placebo, "I Feel You"

10000 Maniacs, "Because The Night"

Ghost, "See The Light"

Horrorpops, "Walk Like A Zombie"

Fall Out Boy, "Immortals"

Adam Lambert, "Evil In The Night"

HIM, "Katherine Wheel"

Nightwish, "Feel For You"

Ghost, "Nocturnal Me"

Maraton, "Spectral Friends"

Fall Out Boy, "Uma Thurman"

The Hooters, "And We Danced"

Lacuna Coil, "Losing My Religion"

Claire Wyndham, "Kingdom Fall"

Rob Zombie, "Girl Who Loved The Monsters"

MIKA, "Promiseland"

MXMS, "I Revenge"

Sarah Paulson, "Criminal"

VNV Nation, "Illusion"

Lauren Aquilina, "King"

Shiny Toy Guns, "Stripped"

Scissor Sisters, "Mary"

Ghost, "Mary On A Cross"

Depeche Mode, "Enjoy The Silence"

HIM, "Right Here In My Arms"

Madonna, "Nothing Really Matters"

Abney Park, "She"

Placebo, "I'll Be Yours"

Concrete Blonde, "Lullabye"

The Amazing Devil, "Marbles"

My Chemical Romance, "Summertime"

Ghost, "Life Eternal"

The Romanovs, "King"

Coyote Kid, "Femme Fatale"

Eddie Money, "Take Me Home Tonight"

Karliene, "Within You"

PT Adamcyzk & Olga Jankowska, "Never Fade Away"

Volbeat, "Wait A Minute My Girl"

Creeper, "Ghosts Over Calvary"

The Amazing Devil, "Ruin"

Swallow The Sun, "All Hallows' Grieve"

Duran Duran, "Come Undone"

Cornelius Link, Vila, & Anja Hermann, "Never Fade Away"

Robbie Williams & Nicole Kidman, "Something Stupid"

Creeper, "Black Moon"

HIM, "The Sacrament"