#FataMoru's 10th Anniversary

[connandoods]

🦋🕯️  𝕳𝖆𝖕𝖕𝖞 10 𝖄𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝕱𝖆𝖙𝖆𝕸𝖔𝖗𝖚 🌹🦋

[fata10thanni]

🦋 All right, so this is officially the end of FataMoru’s 10th Anniversary Week! 🦋

I intended to post this earlier but oh well, better late than never! So technically, February 10 should be the last day for submitting late works. However, if anyone still want to post late content and that I happen to catch it, then I’ll still gladly reblog it.

This asides, thank you very much to all who participated! It was amazing seeing all those new fan works for the event!

And especially, thank you to the people who helped organizing this week as well: this wouldn’t have been possible without them!

Please come check some more creations over on the Twitter account if you want to as well!

🌹  Thanks again for supporting this event and let’s celebrate FataMoru together again! 🕯️  

[connan-l]

Meandering Souls - Day 1: Door 1 - Mirror

Fandom: The House in Fata Morgana

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationship: Nellie Rhodes & Isadora Rhodes, Mell Rhodes & Nellie Rhodes

Summary: Until their souls cross path once more in the boundless sphere of fate.

Nellie’s mother gave her a mirror as a present for her fifth birthday. She’d always loved looking at her reflection with it, until she doesn’t.

[A collection of unrelated one-shots for the @fata10thanni prompts:

Day 1: Door 1 - Mirror

Day 2: Door 2 - Gardening and Botany 

Day 3: Door 3 - In the Shadows]

______________________________________________________________

Link on Archive of Our Own

______________________________________________________________

Notes: Happy 10th Anniversary, FataMoru! And happy Fata Week as well!

Shh, I know, I know, I’m late, but listen. Better late than never.

So, this was written for the Fata Week in celebration of… well, Fata’s 10th anniversary, from those prompts: on Tumblr and Twitter. Ideally I really wanted to wrote a little something for each of the 10 prompts, but I dunno if I’ll actually be able to make it. Even if I do it’ll probably take some time cause for some reason I have zero energy lately and it feels like a struggle for me to write. But well I’ll still try! We’ll see how it goes.

Anyway, here’s the first prompt for Door 1. This takes place, well, before, during and after Door 1, so spoilers for that as well as for the short story related to it, ‘A Slow-Killing Poison.’

And oh, yeah, in case you were wondering: the names used here for Nellie and Mell’s parents, Isadora and Barnard, are their actual official names; they were given in the guidebook as well as in one untranslated short story.

________________________________________________________________

When she turned five years old, Nellie’s mother offered her a huge mirror for her birthday.

It was beautiful — all golden and silver and shining, with gorgeous, delicate flowers carved in it (not roses, sadly, but those lilies were pretty enough that Nellie tolerated them). She was so small at the time that when she stood in front of it she could only see the top of her head and two amber eyes peeking out in the bottom of the glass, but even so she couldn’t help but stare at her reflection excitedly every time she passed in front of it.

“You really like this mirror, don’t you, Nellie?”

Her mother Isadora asked her this once with a soft, content smile, as she looked at the little girl spun around right before the mirror.

“Yup! Like that, I can look at how cute I am every day!”

Isadora laughed — and Nellie didn’t know why because she was very serious —  then gently caressed her daughter’s flaxen hair.

“You know, mirrors are very important for women.”

“To help us making us pretty!” The child exclaimed proudly.

“Well, there’s that,” her mother conceded. “But it also helps us to remember who we truly are.”

Nellie didn’t understood that. Isadora looked a little strange saying this, but just when she was about to press her further, she noticed Mell’s silhouette popping up at the door and her face beamed.

“Dearest Mell! Have you seen the mirror Mother gave me? Hey, hey, have you?”

She dragged her brother in front of the mirror — because he was slightly taller than Nellie, unlike her his entire head could be seen in the reflection — and then she excitedly told him all about all the other presents she’d gotten. Mell just smiled gently at her, nodding quietly, like he always did.

And so she completely forgot all about this conversation, until one night a few weeks later when she went to find her mother in her bedchamber. Nellie should be asleep already at this time, but she had a nightmare and couldn’t stand to stay alone in her bed anymore. Usually, she would’ve gone to Mell to comfort her, but both he and their father Barnard weren’t home tonight; they went out of town because of some complicated business matters and Barnard had wanted his son with him for some reason. They wouldn’t be back until a couple of days, so unfortunately only the women of the house were here tonight and she had to settle for her mother instead of her brother.

It wasn’t like Nellie disliked Isadora or anything. She very much loved her, in fact; just as much as she loved her father. Both of them were very kind and always complimented her and gave her everything she wanted.

But… they still weren’t Mell.

Her mother was quite affectionate, but she also strictly scolded Nellie whenever she did anything little girls weren’t supposed to. Her father always bought her the most beautiful dresses and dolls, but he hated letting Nellie play outside or forced her to talk and be polite to men and boys she had no interest in.

Mell never expected anything like that from her. He never tried to restrict her. He always listened to her in such a genuine, attentive way that her parents just never did.

With Mell, she was always free, and she never felt that way with anyone else.

Isadora was sitting down in front of a mirror in her gorgeous embroidered white nightgown, while her long, wavy blond hair — of a very distinct fairer color than the rest of the family — fell on her shoulders elegantly.

Her mother was very beautiful. The most beautiful woman on earth even, in Nellie’s eyes. She really wanted to be just like her when she’d be grownup.

“Mother,” she murmured while trotting over to her, and Isadora got startled when she felt her daughter’s presence and her arms wrap around her waist.

“Oh my. Nellie, honey, what’s wrong?”

“Nightmare,” the girl mumbled in her mother’s clothes. “Can’t sleep.”

“Oh, poor dear.” The woman grabbed her daughter right away and put her on her lap, gently caressing her hair in a soothing manner. Nellie buried her face in her mother’s neck, letting herself get lulled by her warmth and faint citrus perfume.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Don’t remember.”

“I see…”

Isadora then fell quiet. After a moment of complete silence, Nellie lifted her head and stared curiously at her. Her mother…  looked strangely sad. She stared fixedly into the mirror, her features stretched in clear sorrow and nostalgia.

She did that, sometimes. She’d go quiet and all melancholic, lost in thoughts.

Nellie never knew what she must be thinking about when it happened, but she never dared to ask; as if doing so would break some kind of taboo.

That’s when she suddenly remembered what her mother had told her, when she’d offered her the golden mirror for her birthday.

“…Does it help you remember?” She asked.

Her mother blinked, then looked at her oddly. “Huh?”

“You said it the other day. You said mirrors help women remember and see us for who we really are.”

Isadora’s expression cleared in understanding, but then something more complicated spread on her face.

“Oh, right…”

She looked up into the glass once again, and stared. Nellie wondered what she must be seeing, because it didn’t seem to be her reflection.

“Yes, I suppose it does. Whenever I look at it, I can’t help but remember him, and her—”

“Him and her?”

Isadora smiled sadly, grief filling her eyes, and then she shook her head.

“Yes. It helps me remember them, and then, it helps me remember my sins.”

Nellie’s eyes widened with surprise. “Mother, you sinned?!”

‘Sin,’ in Nellie’s mind, was when she didn’t listen to her governess or broke a vase accidentally or went running around in the garden without being careful and dirtied her clothes. But those were all things she could never imagine her beautiful, elegant, always perfect mother doing. However, when her mother looked at her and replied, her answer had nothing to do with what she’d expected.

“I fell in love.”

______________________________________________________________

Nellie took the habit to stop and look at herself in her mirror every morning.

With each month, each years that passed, she could see herself grow up little by little in the looking-glass; her hair became longer, her silhouette refined, her chest a bit bigger.

By the time she reached fourteen, Nellie looked almost like a grown woman, almost like her mother — Isadora and Barnard and every adult around her always made sure to compliment her on this, on how pretty she’d became, how she’d have no trouble finding a good suitor with how beautiful of a young lady she now was.

But instead of making her happy like she’d imagined it would as a child, it started to fill her with dread.

The less she looked like a little girl, and the more it was harder to deny the reality that was catching up to her dreamy, ideal life.

Nellie wasn’t stupid, contrary to what most people around her seemed to think; she was well-aware her sheltered life where she could just spend her days playing around with her dearest Mell would inevitably come to an end.

She’d have to get married, leave Mell, have children.

The simple thought of it got her stomach tied up in knots. It made her want to run away and never look back; but she was too scared to do so. Not all alone, anyway.

Nellie hated being alone more than anything in the world.

That was why she couldn’t bear the perspective of getting separated from Mell, because he was the only one who truly loved her for who she was — but no matter how much she wished it, she couldn’t bend reality just because she wanted to.

At some point, she knew she’ll have to wake up from the dream — and she knew it’ll hurt more than anything.

And that point seemed to grow nearer and nearer as her appearance kept changing.

She didn’t want to grow up. She wanted to stay a little girl forever, so that she didn’t have to part away from Mell, so that she didn’t have to get married, so that she didn’t have to get locked up in that cage everyone around wanted to fit her into.

Unlike Mell, who had the privilege to keep meandering in life however he pleased, Nellie would be forced to wake up brutally.

(And maybe, just maybe, despite how much she loved him, there was a little part of Nellie who resented him for it. Just a little.)

She used to love looking into that mirror, but now it only made her feel ugly.

Maybe her mother’s words from all those years ago were true, after all.

Mirrors were there to help them remember who they truly were.

But Nellie didn’t want to.

“Oh my? Why did you cover it up?”

Isadora stared strangely at the big mirror, which was entirely hidden by a large piece of white sheet Nellie had gotten somewhere.

“Mother,” she said, softly, without looking at the other woman. “What do I look like?”

Isadora probably didn’t understand her real question, because she just smiled gently at her.

“You look beautiful of course, my darling. Soon you’ll be as pretty as all the noble ladies of the court.”

Nellie’s chest twisted. It hurt, even though it was stupid of her to feel that way.

She’d already knew her mother would say that, after all, because that was what everyone always said.

Her mother, her father, all of the servants and nobles and anyone glancing at her.

In the end, even her dearest Mell thought that way.

“I’d much rather having been born ugly.”

______________________________________________________________

The curtain kept flying up under the breeze in the room.

There was never any sound.

Or at least, there wouldn’t be from an outsider’s perspective, but to Nellie, the bedchamber was always filled with laughters and cheerful high-pitched voices.

Her brother, not much taller than the bed, was always next to her, reading and smiling — and Nellie was happy just staying by his side, occasionally trying to childishly bother him away from the story.

Mell would sigh at her exasperatedly, of course, but he’d never get angry at her.

Mell had never been able to truly stay angry at her for long.

Because he knew it’d hurt Nellie, and Mell could never hurt Nellie.

The door suddenly opened.

It took some time for Nellie to truly realize it; but even then she didn’t stray her attention away from her beloved brother. She wanted to give all of her attention to him and only him.

The person sat next to her bed. She had long, pretty blond hair, and a long time ago she probably would’ve been beautiful, but now she only looked ashed and exhausted.

It took a long time for Nellie to realize that this was her mother.

When was the last time Nellie had spoken to her mother?

“My darling, can you hear me?”

Her voice felt barely audible, like a dream’s whisper. A complete shadow from what her mother’s gentle voice used to sound like.

There was a sigh, some awkward gesture. A larger hand grabbing hers, holding her, caressing her skin.

“I know I haven’t come to see you in a long time… I apologize. I have been a very terrible mother. I…”

Fingers tightened their grip on hers, but Nellie couldn’t bother to care about it.

Nothing and no one could reach her, not anymore.

Only her dearest brother stuck in the dream mattered.

“Nellie, honey, I’m sorry. None of this would’ve happened if your father and I had not… made so many mistakes and actually paid attention to you. But I…” A pause; a shaky breath. “Please, my darling, it is not too late. We can still fix this. You can still… you can still come back to us. Please? Nellie?”

It sounded like someone was begging desperately, but it barely registered to Nellie.

The voice slowly faded away in a corner of her consciousness, words stopping making sense.

She looked away from her brother, and instead stared straight in front of her.

The mirror she’d gotten as a gift at five years old stood there, uncovered.

Her reflection smiled back at her, and she giggled.

She’d never been happier to look so ugly.

[afleetingfatamorgana]

Fandom Event Interest Check

Hello FataMoru enjoyers,

A few people and I have been talking about organizing a fan week for the end of december to celebrate both Michel’s birthday and FataMoru’s 10th anniversary.

The idea for now would be to make a door-themed week for each day, with maybe other subprompts underneath each one, that you would be free to use or not.

Of course, any type of media would be accepted (fics, fanarts, edits, etc.)

Nothing is decided just yet either, so if you have suggestions don’t hesitate to communicate them as well.

If there’s any interest in this, especially to participate, please interact with this post (like/reblog) to let me know!

[connandoods]

So that one was meant for Morgana and Michelle’s birthday as well as for Day 8: Final Door - Fairy Tale for @fata10thanni

It got late 💔 But I still got around to finish it! Happy birthday 🦋

[fata10thanni]

🦋  Happy 10th Anniversary FataMoru! 🦋

🕯️  Reminder that the 10th Anniversary Week starts today and will last until January 9th! 🕯️

🌹  Hope you all have fun, and Happy New Year! 🌹

[fata10thanni]

Hello FataMoru fans, I hope you're all having a fun and/or restful weekend!

The countdown to December 31st is coming soon, and we have something for fans who want to celebrate but not with fan content. This challenge is for everyone to answer if they'd like.

Starting on December 25th, you can participate in the fun by tagging this account, replying/rebloging this post and/or using the hashtag #CountdowntoFata10th or just #Fata10thAnni!

QUESTIONS CHALLENGE (DEC 25 - DEC 31)

Day 1 - Unexpected

Which character did you dislike at first, but ended up falling hard for?

Day 2 - Favorite Ending

Aside from the true ending of FataMoru, which ending stood out the most to you?

Day 3 - Favorite Character

Who is your favorite character? Why are they your favorite character?

Day 4 - Unforgettable Scene

What is your favorite CG/scene in the game? Requiem/Reincarnation answers are welcome too.

Day 5 - Best Relationship

Which characters have the best bond for you? Why? It doesn’t have to be romantic; platonic or familial answers are fine!

Day 6 - Comic Relief

Despite the overall themes of the game, Fata still has some room for silliness! Which off-beat comedy scenes are your favorite?

Day 7 - What Fata Morgana is to You

As a fan, what makes The House in Fata Morgana special to you? Did it leave a deep impact on you and your life?

[fata10thanni]

Hello!

The sub-prompts are here! They're not mandatory and you can have your own ideas to use with the main prompts. But if you'd like a more specific direction or challenge, take a look and try these.  ❤️💚  

🕯️  Day 1 - Door 1: Mirror | Ballroom Dance

🕯️  Day 2 - Door 2: Role Swap | Gardening and Botany

🕯️  Day 3 - Door 3: Picture Perfect | In the Shadows

🕯️  Day 4 - Door 4: What’s My Name | Gift Exchange

🕯️  Day 5 - Door 5: Handle With Care | Perfect Smile

🕯️  Day 6 - Door 6: Four Seasons | The Stars

🕯️  Day 7 - Door 7: Lost Letter | Bug Catcher

🕯️  Day 8 - Final Door: Fairy Tale | World Map

🕯️  Day 9 - A Requiem for Innocence: Fireflies | Sound of Thunder

🕯️  Day 10 - Reincarnation: Concenience Store | Missed Connections

[connan-l]

Meandering Souls - Day 2: Door 2 - Gardening and Botany

Fandom: The House in Fata Morgana

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Relationship: Giselle & Yukimasa Aida, Yukimasa Aida/Pauline Asama, Yukimasa Aida & The White-Haired Girl

Summary: Until their souls cross path once more in the boundless sphere of fate.

The Maid teaches Bestia how to plant flowers; something he might've done before, a long time ago.

[A collection of unrelated one-shots for the @fata10thanni prompts:

Day 1: Door 1 - Mirror

Day 2: Door 2 - Gardening and Botany

Day 3: Door 3 - In the Shadows]

______________________________________________________________

Link on Archive of Our Own

______________________________________________________________

Notes: I’ve actually hesitated for a while to write something with Javi for this one. I went with Yukimasa in the end cause it’s still *his* door, you know? But I don’t really like it in the end so I wonder if I would’ve done better to go with Javi instead like I planned initially… Oh well. Sorry Javi, one day I’ll write something about you, I promise.

Also, just like in the first prompt with the Rhodes parents, Pauline’s mother’s name Filippa here is also her official name, in case you didn’t know.

______________________________________________________________

 The manor’s garden didn’t look much like an actual garden and more like some untreated, wild forest.

 Bestia didn’t know where he’d got this certitude, given he’d obviously never  seen   a normal human’s garden before, but somehow he was sure of this.  A fact  he  was aware of   innately.

Maybe he’d noticed without realizing it when he’d stopped at that village—

But no, he would not dwell on this.

Just thinking about the village  was enough to make   him nauseous.

Instead, he reported his gaze on the Maid,  sat  next to him, who was currently dirtying her hands in the  ground  .

“Do you understand now, Master?” She asked, after pulling out some more herbs and burying yet another seed. “Come on, give me a hand here. I might be a maid, but it is only the two of us here; and it is quite rude to watch someone work without helping, would you not say?”

Bestia did not understand. The Maid had solicited his help for gardening, but he couldn’t make sense of the reason why she bothered with this. She was  weeding out ,  digging a small hole  , then putting a handful of seeds into the ground. She did this almost every day. It seemed so useless to him.

“Why?” He managed to articulate, words still so foreign to him.

 The woman stopped, then looked up at him. “Why am I doing this?” She inquired.

She was always surprisingly astute to understand him even when he barely managed to put together comprehensible sentences. Her hand, as white and ethereal as the moon, came resting on her cheek in a thoughtful gesture. Bestia thought about how strange it was that her skin was completely clean despite the fact she’d been twiddling dirt for over an hour now.

 She truly didn’t feel human at all, even when she was doing the most  basic   of tasks.

“My, that’s a good question. Gardening can be useful to grow food, but what we are planting here is not food, so I can understand your bewilderment. Indeed, I suppose you could say there is not much purpose in planting flowers…”

 A melancholic expression spread on her face, and Bestia felt more and more confused by the minutes. Why was she even spending time on this if she agreed  it was useless  ?

As if she’d just read his thoughts, she quickly continued: “There is no purpose… and this land has been cursed and dead for centuries. I doubt anything would be able to grow in it anymore, to be honest, but…”

 Suddenly, she looked at him; jade eyes  shimmering, enrapturing  . “But I love roses. They are the flowers of love. And I know she  loved them  , too, so I am doing it for her.”

“For her.”

 The Maid looked down at the ground, face perfectly blank, but an odd little smile stretch  ed   her red lips.

“For when she’ll come back.”

 Bestia did not ask her who she meant by that.

 Not because he was not curious, but because there was something, somewhere, in her voice, that told him it was a secret  he had no right to be privy to.

 So he simply helped her plant the seeds in silence.

______________________________________________________________

“Tsubaki?”

 Yukimasa nodded at Pauline’s curious tone and eyes while she stared at his bag of seeds.

“This is what they’re called. That’s the name for Japanese camellias.”

“Ooh.” Pauline blinked at the seeds, looking at them fixedly as if she was trying to find something hidden in there. “But why does that has anything to do with me?”

 He sighed. Sometimes, some part of his mind thought that if he was a normal man, he probably would feel embarrassed  by this of interaction with Pauline.

“I… wanted to give you flowers,” he admitted. “And… because you always asks me so much about my home country, I thought… maybe you’d like some Japanese flowers…”

 Not like Yukimasa knew much of anything about  those  , even less so about Japanese ones. Or about gardening, really. He'd always been a man of the sea; he'd never really had to deal with working the land before then.

“…But it’s not like you can just find those around here, so I asked your father, and he told me about how your mother has a garden and loved gardening, so…”

 As the words  finally started to get   to Pauline’s head, a big smile spread on her face and her dark eyes shined with excitement.

“Yes, she has! Does that mean you’re asking for us to garden together?!”

“Well—”

“That sounds like fun! I’m not all that good at it, Mom always tells me I just make a mess of everything and so she generally want to keep me away from the garden— but if you’re here with me then she’ll probably agree! C’mon, let’s ask her!”

 Before Yukimasa  could reply  , Pauline pulled on his hand and hurried him inside the family house. Her mother Filippa did seem quite reluctant at first to let Pauline anywhere near her garden, but with the condition Yukimasa had to keep an eye on her they finally got access to it.

Although Filippa had initially been a  gainst   her daughter  having   a foreigner for lover, she’d quickly  warmed up   to Yukimasa because of “how well-mannered and gentlemanly” he was, and she’d been very amiable towards him ever since. Sometimes, she even actively favored  his opinions   over Pauline’s and was also very enthusiastic at the prospect of them getting married.

Maybe he should feel a bit bad over deceiving Filippa so overtly when he was anything but an ideal future son-in-law, but it wasn’t like it was in his interest to try to disprove her.

 He’d been deceiving Pauline for longer than that too, anyway.

“Okaayy, so they’re in! Do you think we need to do anything else now…?”

 Pauline spoke cheerfully before  patting   the ground in a gentle way, as if she was afraid of disrupting the task she’d just accomplished.

 They had finally put into the ground the seeds, and it had… certainly been interesting to watch Pauline make such a mess around her in so little time. Not only were her gloved hands  completely   covered in dirt, but so were her hair, face and clothes; and this despite her mother having insisted for her to take on an apron to protect herself. Yukimasa could now definitely understand Filippa’s initial reluctance about letting her daughter  anywhere near the fresh ground  .

 But he supposed he shouldn’t be that surprised — Pauline was always like that,  after all. So deeply e  arnest and intense about everything she was doing that it ended up scattering this energy everywhere around her.

“Those are just normal seeds,” Yukimasa finally replied. “There’s no need for anything else. Just water them.”

“Hmm, I see…” Pauline patted the freshly-covered hole a little once again with the tip of her fingers. Yukimasa was the one who had no experience in gardening, and yet Pauline was always asking him for instructions. “Heheh, well, I can’t wait to see them finally bloom! I wonder what they’ll look like… and when they’ll bloom…”

 As she seemed to get lost in thought, Yukimasa stared at her in silence. Her round, pale face was peppered with brown  mud   all over. It didn’t suit her, he thought, to be dirty like that.

 Pauline  had to   always be clean and pamper, that’s just how it should be.

 So before he could think about it, he reached out towards her and wiped out the  mud   off her face. Pauline, snapping out of her  reverie  , shrieked in surprise  and   blushed heavily, her cheeks feeling suddenly very hot under his fingers.

“Y-Yukimasa— What are you—”

“You were dirty.”

“O-Oh… Right…” After realizing what he meant, she giggled awkwardly. “I-It’s always like this with me, right? I just can’t seem to do anything right…”

“You planted the seeds right enough.”

“H-Huh? Oh…” For some reason, she appeared surprised at his comment; and then a gentle smile spread on her face. “Right, I guess so…”

 She then looked around her, as if checking if there was not her mother or anyone else around, and then leaned in; briefly putting a small kiss on the corner of his mouth, as  feeble   as a butterfly.

 Yukimasa could feel from here some dirt residual rest on his cheek as a result of this, but as Pauline pulled away and smiled shyly at him, he decided he didn’t mind it much.

“I don’t… know when they’re supposed to bloom,” he finally declared, then looked down at the seeds now deep in the ground.

Captain Asama had been the one to tell him those were red camellias, but he had not  added   anything else. A long time ago, Yukimasa had heard from his grandfather that red camellias in their culture symbolized a noble death for Japanese warriors, as well as love.

 Romantic notions  that didn’t fit him in the slightest.

 But he had thought they fitted Pauline.

“Oh… well, that doesn’t really matter.”

 He lifted his eyes towards  the young woman in front of him, the lover he didn’t love  , and she was smiling at him, like always.

“I’m sure they’ll be here when you come back either way.”

______________________________________________________________

“What are you doing in the garden?”

 A soft, gentle voice shook him out of his thoughts, and when he raised his head a blur of green and white greeted him.

Michelle was looking down at him, curiosity printed all over her face; although he knew she technically wasn’t able to actually look at anything at all.

Bestia hesitated for a moment, not certain of what he should reply, because he wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing. The one who had dragged him out there in the first place to take care of the garden — the Maid, or the Witch, or whoever she was — had been nowhere to be seen; so to say the truth, he had no need to go there anymore.

 But he’d noticed something unusual today, so he had to check it out.

“The flower,” he finally said.

 He could see Michelle tilt her head in confusion.

“Flower?”

“Rose,” he clarified. “She… The rose planted there, it bloomed.”

The young woman’s red eyes widened in understanding, and they seemed to shine in excitement. Bestia wasn’t really sure why, as he should be the most surprised out of the two of them. The Witch had made sure to tell him this land was dead and cursed and that nothing could grow in there anymore. It was strange this single rose had managed to bloom, then, wasn’t it?

 W  ell, it wasn’t like he had any experience in gardening before anyway. He was just a beast.

“My, you planted roses? It sounds wonderful. I didn’t know you liked gardening.”

 He didn’t. No more than anything else. It was the Witch that had planted them, but somehow he didn’t know how to properly explain it to Michelle.

(Or, at least, he didn’t think he liked gardening, but—)

The woman knelt down next to him, not caring about sullying her pretty green dress, and then with svelte fingers she patted around delicately, searching for the flower. At some point, Bestia decided to help her out, and with his much bigger hands he grabbed hers, pulling them towards the rose.

“Oh my,” she said, her small fingers gently caressing the petals. “It seems very pretty. What color is it?”

 She raised her head, and for a minute, Bestia suddenly saw the figure of another person.

 Another young woman, with black hair, earnest eyes, covered in  mud   from head to toes.

“I’m sure they’ll be here when you come back either way.”

“…White.”

“White roses, huh?” Michelle brought her fingers on her lips thoughtfully. “If I recall correctly, they symbolizes purity and loyalty. My mother told me so, once. Meanwhile red roses are for love and passion.”

 Bestia wouldn’t know, but somehow, that seemed right.

“Do you… want it?”

“The rose? Oh no. I think flowers are prettier when they’re left alive and in the ground, don’t you think?”

“…Not particularly.”

 Michelle chuckled, then looked down, as if trying to look at the flower despite her impaired vision.

“Why did you plant these?”

“Sorry?”

“I mean, there must’ve been a reason, no? Did you plant them for something?”

There was no reason, of course. Bestia hadn’t even really planted them, it had been the Witch. And even the Witch hadn’t seemed to expect for those to really bloom.

He wondered if she was satisfied  even just a single one did bloom  , wherever she was now. Maybe she hadn’t even noticed it.

But even so, the words left his mouth before he could think over them.

“It was for someone. When she’ll come back.”

Michelle stayed silent at that.

When Bestia came back to the garden the next morning, however…

The white rose the  White-Haired Girl had touched had turned red.

[connan-l]

Meandering Souls - Day 3: Door 3 - In the Shadows

Fandom: The House in Fata Morgana

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Relationship: Giselle & The White-Haired Girl, Giselle/The White-Haired Girl

Summary: Until their souls cross path once more in the boundless sphere of fate.

Michelle tries to know more about the mysterious head maid of the manor.

[A collection of unrelated one-shots for the @fata10thanni prompts:

Day 1: Door 1 - Mirror

Day 2: Door 2 - Gardening and Botany

Day 3: Door 3 - In the Shadows]

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Link on Archive of Our Own

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Notes: So fun fact, I’ve actually been wanting to write a one-shot similar to this one focused on Door 3!Michelle and the Maid, so I actually struggled writing this one because I didn’t want to use much of my initials ideas I had for the OS lol.

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The first time she’d met her, her face had been one of utter despair.

It had been very brief, but Michelle had distinctly seen it and couldn’t manage to forget it; it was welded into her mind, carved into her eyes. Even Jacopo, not the most astute when it came to the feelings of others, had clearly noticed her stricken expression with the way she felt him tense to her side.

Michelle couldn’t wrap her mind around why. She’d never met the woman before, she was sure of it, and all she had done was smile at her and greet her in the most polite way she could.

Her shaken expression had quickly disappeared before her face went back to a neutral one, buried under a facade of placidity, but Michelle could still plainly see the shine of pain glinting in her beautiful jade eyes.

She kept replaying the scene in her mind — trying to find the slightest details that could explain such a reaction; what Michelle could have possibly done to wrong her this much, but nothing came.

The oddity about this woman didn’t stop there, though.

When she decided to ask more about her, Jacopo simply gave her a bewildered look, as if that was a ridiculous thing to want to know.

“She’s just a maid,” he said. “All I know is that she was here at the manor before I even came.”

He didn’t know where she came from, didn’t know who she’d worked for before — he didn’t even know her name, in fact. Michelle felt completely flabbergasted at this, and asked him how he could not even want to know such basic things about his own employees. He just shrugged.

“She is just a maid.”

Apparently, to Jacopo, as long as she was doing her job nothing else mattered — and doing her job, she was particularly good at it.

Not a single servant worked as efficiently and meticulously as her, and half the time, Michelle thought she almost looked like a marionette who was being manipulated by a puppeteer from the shadows.

Maria also shared Jacopo’s thoughts. When Michelle asked her about the head maid, she had just laughed and waved her hand in a dismissive way; “She’s just some creepy lady, leave her be.”

She probably should have headed their advices. The servants of the house were only employees, and there was no need for the masters to take an interest in their personal lives. Surely, if the woman had never said a word to anyone about herself, not even her name, then it was because she didn’t want to — and getting intrusive about it against her wish would be quite rude.

But somehow, Michelle couldn’t just leave her be.

She found herself oddly captivated by her.

Her eyes followed the Maid around whenever she caught sight of her in a corridor, or when she would come to serves tea. Whenever their gazes crossed, the woman would smile at her, but her face was blank, her eyes empty. It made Michelle’s heart aches.

This woman made her uncomfortable, but more than anything she made her sad.

She could tell, behind the walls of placidity she hid behind, that she was in a lot of pain — and, for a reason Michelle couldn’t explain, she felt that somehow this was her fault.

______________________________________________________________

She woke up in the middle of the night when a thunderous noise broke into her room.

Cold and water violently spread throughout the bedchambers, and Michelle looked around with surprise. She realized all of this was coming from the window, which had brutally opened upon the strength of the storm raging outside; the wind and rain were so powerful it had forcibly unlocked it and made the curtains wildly flapping around.

Michelle instantly stood up and ran to the window; her long white hair flying all around her, getting wet and sticking to her skin because of the rain. She tried to get it closed as quickly as she could, but the wind was so violent that her frail arms could barely manages to grasp each sides.

Suddenly, a firmer, stronger hand seized the window from behind her.

“Let it go, Madam. You are going to hurt yourself.”

Michelle jumped in surprised, inadvertently doing as she was told, and realizing the person who’d just spoken to her was the black-haired maid. She hadn’t even heard her enter her room, though she supposed it wasn’t that surprising given how noisy the tempest was.

Despite her surprise, she actually listened to her and stepped aside, while the Maid cleared off the curtains and bravely faced the animated window with unyielding hands. It took her only a couple of seconds before being able to close it tightly and put a bar to keep it that way, under Michelle’s impressed eyes.

“Wow, you’re a lot stronger than you look!” She couldn’t help but exclaim in awe, and then felt herself blushing a little because of how childish she sounded.

The Maid didn’t seem to mind as she put the curtains back in place, and then turned towards her. She silently scrutinized her in a way that made Michelle blush even more, so she looked away.

“U-Um…”

“At the risk of sounding rude, Madam… you are all wet and disheveled. I believe it would be preferable for you to change clothes and dry your hair before going back to bed.”

“H-Huh? Oh, right…!”

Michelle was, indeed, quite ‘wet and disheveled’ — and it was putting it mildly. Her nightgown was not exactly drenched but pretty humid, and her long hair was all soaked and messy around her face and shoulders, sticking to her frame. She must have looked quite awful. Thank goodness her husband wasn’t around to behold such a sight.

Before she could say any more, the other woman turned around, headed towards her wardrobe, and in a handful of seconds she was already handing her a new gown. She asked her if she needed any help putting the dress on, but Michelle quickly refused; even though she was used to servants helping her out since she was a child, she’d never liked letting others doing simple tasks for her like that. So the Maid let her do as she pleased, but stayed in the room while she undressed, only turning her back to her to give her some intimacy — which, for some reason, made Michelle’s stomach tie into knots. She didn’t know why, but the other woman’s presence somehow rendered her very anxious.

Once she was done, she smiled at her, almost about to say that everything was fine now and she could go, but then she noticed a comb in the woman’s hand.

“You might not let me help dress you, but please at least allow me to rearrange your hair a little.”

Michelle’s first instinct was to tell her it wasn’t necessary. She was going back to bed, after all — so her hair was going to end up a mess either way. But somehow she felt unable to open her mouth once her eyes crossed the Maid’s.

There was something odd, in her gaze. Something almost begging.Yearning.

Michelle’s lip trembled; she looked away, then nodded, unable to sustain the other’s eyes.

Soon she found herself sitting in front of her mirror as the Maid was slowly, gently combing her humid white hair. Michelle couldn’t help but vaguely ponder how strange of a situation this was; here she was, in the middle of the night, getting pampered by the unsettling nameless head maid of the mansion while a tempest was hollering outside.

A part of her almost felt like she was doing something taboo or forbidden, like cheating on her husband.

The Maid delicately threaded her fingers into the strands, as if making sure she wouldn’t forget a single knot, and the gesture was so tender that something in Michelle’s chest broke like glass.

She was handling her like something terribly precious; a treasured doll, a cherished daughter. A lover.

Somehow, somewhere, the whole thing felt upsettingly familiar. As she looked up into the mirror, she had a strange feeling of déjà vu; and in the light of a thunder, she thought she almost saw the silhouette of a younger version of herself, all dressed up in a beautiful, old-fashioned golden and white dress.

She blinked, and the vision was gone, but the hundreds contradictory feelings filling her chest and clogging up her throat stayed.

“You, um,” she tried — she needed to speak, to break the silence, otherwise she felt like she was going to suffocate. “—Uh, what, what are you doing here at this time? I mean, it’s so late… were you not sleeping?”

For a long time, the Maid stayed quiet, and Michelle almost thought she was not going to answer her.

“I never sleep,” she finally said. “So usually, I am doing rounds in the manor. But then I heard noises in your room, and I got worried.”

“O-Oh… Is that so?”

Admittedly, she did often look tired, with her skin almost as pale as Michelle’s and her big black circles under her eyes. Still, hearing her say she had been worried about her sounded… nice.

“I apologize if I worried you…”

“Don’t. I am only doing my duty.”

“I know… But still, thank you. Not a lot of people… have been very kind to me before.”

For a brief moment, Michelle felt the comb still in her hair; but by the time she got to lift her head and look at the other woman in the mirror, any trace of surprise or shock had disappeared and she was back to doing her task.

“I-I mean, my parents were very nice to me. And now, well… I have Maria. She told me we were friends.” She laughed a little. “I’ve never had any friends before, you know? I might have been… quite lonely in my previous home. And then, of course, there’s my husband—”

She was pretty sure she felt the comb stop yet again, but she was so caught up in her own feelings that she couldn’t bring herself to get distracted by it.

She wasn’t sure why she felt so talkative all of a sudden, opening up to this strange woman she knew nothing about.

But for as unsettling as she could — there was something about her… that felt weirdly comfortable, too.

“Well… he has been… acting a little strangely towards me lately. Like he’s… avoiding me…”

Her hands tightened on her on thighs, and she barely noticed the deep breath the Maid took from behind her.

“Would you… Would you have some advice to spare? I… I’m afraid of losing him, and… I mean, I’m sorry if that is rude of me, but I heard some of the servants gossip about you… maybe being married—”

Her question was brusquely cut by a vivid pain that made her shriek. Something — someone — had abruptly pulled on her hair, in such a brutal way that had unmistakably meant to hurt, and Michelle jumped from her chair and turned around.

The black-haired, green-eyed woman stood there, in front of her, but in the darkness she was unable to gauge her expression. Only her jade eyes were shining under the candle and the moonlight; something so deeply intense and full of resentment that Michelle’s throat and heart dried up instantly.

In the Maid’s right hand was dandling a few of her white strands that she had clearly torn up from her head.

They stared at each other in silence, and then Michelle felt something she’d never felt for this woman until now: fear. In this instant, for a brief, terrifying second, she was certain she was about to kill her; in some strange hallucination, she could almost feel her cold hands around her throat, pressing and pressing her trachea until nothing of her was left.

But the Maid did nothing of the sort. Instead, she lowered her hands, and the intensity of her eyes diminished until it was back to her normal, perfectly neutral stance.

“If you want advice,” she said, voice eerily cold. “Then I can give one. Do not trust in love too much, Madam.”

With some strength she didn’t know she possessed, Michelle was able to open up her mouth, even though the entirety of her body was trembling. Because she felt that the Maid was telling her what Maria had recently started rambling about; you’re too good for that guy. Leave him! With your looks, you’ll have no trouble finding a new one who’ll treat you like a princess!

“But I love him.”

She said it out loud, a little desperately, a little like a prayer.

The maid didn’t budge. Her expression was of stone.

“Sometimes, love is not worth it.”

And then she simply turned around, with the comb and the hair and the candle, closing the door behind her.

Michelle stood there, all alone, in the dark — and for some reason she couldn’t fathom, tears rolled down her face.

[connan-l]

Countdown to 10th Anniversary

Okaayyy I'll try to do this too~

Unlike on Twitter I didn’t get to reply to those every day, so I’ll just post all of them at once!

Day 1 - Unexpected

So there's not actually any character I specifically disliked the first time around, but still if I had to choose then probably Jacopo ssdfgd Thing is, he’s usually the type of characters I’m very hard on, especially as he is introduced in Door 3; and tbh I wasn’t very fond of him by the end of the main game either cause I thought his backstory was super rushed and didn’t do a good job of making me invested and understand him. But then I played Requiem and it completely ruined me... Now he’s fighting with Morg as a spot for my fave character.

Day 2 - Favorite Ending

Okay so as a whole Requiem’s ending/The Revenant’s Dream has my heart forever <3 But speaking about the main game’s endings specifically thennnn to me it’s a mix between Ending 3: ‘Bonjour, Poupée’ and Ending 5: ‘Never Let Go.’

Ending 3’s perspective of having Michel stay in the mansion with the Maid is just endlessly fascinating and bittersweet to me, and also because I love the Maid so much and I wishwishwish she’d be more respected and we’d had more of her dynamic with Michel and everyone tbh. So having an ending where she gets to stay ‘herself’ instead of going back to Door 5!Giselle is just soooo :3 Ending 5 is pretty cool in itself but I admit I like it more because of its followup in Tir na nog, which is one of my fave Fata side stories. Here too the idea of giving WHG a sort of ‘happy’ end where she gets to live her life even at the expense of Giselle and Morgana is very sad but in a strange hopeful way.

(On that sense, I could give a special mention to Ending 4: 'A Moment of Hesitation' as well, just for its followup story ‘Pain’ where Giselle completely kick Morgana's ass and I always loves seeing Morgana having her ass kicked <3)

Day 3 - Favorite Character

Morganaaaa.

I love her so much. She just hits a lot of stuff I dig in fiction; the way the main game slowly build up her character and introduce her, how even as just as a voice she has such a strong, charismatic presence; how genuinely fun she is as the main antagonist; I love her personality, her design, her backstory, all the complexities she has regarding her fractured identity, her relationship to religion and the way it prevent her from forming bonds and relating to others, the way she starts out as a genuinely very kind-hearted girl who still struggles with ugly emotions and self-loathing and self-righteousnss but end up getting so warped because of trauma, abuse and loneliness.

But to be honest, the thing I love the most about her is how absolutely awful she can be for most of the story. I don't like when people tries to argue that she’s Done Nothing Wrong because, yes obviously she has every right to wants revenge on the men who abused her, but also it kinds of gloss over that she’s... you know, she’s not a good person. She’s pretty horrible and caused so much harm towards people who've done nothing to her and never even apologize for any of this; and I love the way she weaponizes her own trauma and use her status as a victim to justify those things - but also, that even despite all of those things, the story is still adamant that her anger and her pain are valid and should be respected, that even with all the awfulness she deserves to be heard and understood and be given a second chance. That she can grows and move on without having to literally stay stuck in place.

One of the reason Fata has stayed with me more than 4 years after I’ve read it now, is because I genuinely think it is one of the best stories I’ve seen that was able to put forth that kind of message of ‘your pain and revenge is valid but you cannot hurt others to obtain it and if you keep staying so wrapped up in your own pain without moving on at the end of the day you are only going to hurt yourself’ in a way that felt so compassionate and non-judgemental.

Day 4 - Unforgettable Scene

Pheeww okay so the most stricking Fatamoru scene ever to me is actually in Requiem, when Mell lure Morgana to open her cabin’s door and Yukimasa cuts off her arm. Just… the entire mental breakdown she experiences right up until she meets Jacopo in the tower is so raw and effective and amazing, and her ‘I wasn’t born to spend my entire life suffering’ is also my favorite quote from the game.

(Another one that always get to me is in the first part when she experiences a whole meltdown after the festival and lashes out at Ceren, because again, it just feels so genuine & ugly and a culmination of her issues and messiness and identity crisis (and of course the following scene where Jacopo comfort her is just very sweet.)

My fave CG is probably this one just cause Im a basic bitch and she is very pretty ok <3

Now from the main game, it would probably be Morgana’s death scene in Door 8, when she dies in Michel’s arms and then he has to carry her outside... I think that moment of seeing Morgana completely dissociating and then her dying in Michel’s arms before he brings her outside the mansion is just a perfect encapsulation of the story’s climax and ending. And that’s also where my fave CG is too, of course.

(Now obviously there’s a lot of other scenes/CG I love wrt everything with Michel/Door 7/the Maid but... Yea I just love Morgana whump I guess sdsgsf)

Christ right I also feel obligated to give a special mention to the scene also in Door 8 where Michel has that conversation with Morgana's past self in a dream before his confrontation with Yukimasa. It's just... there's so much in this quiet scene on the way both of them connect with each other and Michel desperately trying to reach out to Morgana and it almost made me tear up the first time I read it lol.

Day 5 - Best Relationship

This is the part where I get cancelled lmaooo but Jacopo/Morgana and the entirety of their relationship throughout the two games and the tragedy of their story will always own my heart. I was very obssessed with them for like almost 3 years straight when I finished Requiem back in 2018 and while like most people they leave me super ConflictedTM they’re still very important to me. Like with Jacopo's character it's really Requiem that got me very invested in them, with the way it portray them as kind but traumatized people who manages to connect in quiet, simple ways, to their stupid but affectionate banters, to having an innate understanding and complicity and longing for each other; and then of course through the way it all ends up crumbling away and they just end up destroying each other. Fragment, and especially The Revenant's Dream, is also what really cemented their relationship to me because of how it works so well in concluding their story both in a very sad way but still leaving a vague optimistic note, and I like the ambiguity of it.

I'm so captivated by Morgana's complicated feelings of hating Jacopo and being unable to forgive him but also being unable to stop a small part of her of loving him (and hating herself for that) and Jacopo still loving her but feeling he needs to be punished and that he doesn't deserve to be by her side anymore and how at the of the day they'll still always care deeply for one another even while having hurt each other so much and it's just soooo. sooo angsty and compelling. I do believe that the most healthy outcome for both of them would be to cut ties even while acknowledging that they'll always be important for each other, but at the same time there's a part of me who find the idea of them being able to reconnect again even if they'll never be the people they used to be and will never be able to love each other the way they used to very meaningful.

(By the way, I absolutely recommend this fic by CONSUMER_ELECTRONICS on this topic because it's very beautifully written and manages to encapsulate all of this perfectly: https://archiveofourown.org/works/35846557)

Anyway, I'll always love them both in all their messiness and Problematic-nessTM glory.

Special mention to Michel/Giselle of course because they’re still the pair who MAKE the entire main game, as well as Morgana & Michel and Jacopo & Maria.

Day 6 - Comic Relief

Pfff I’m gonna be honest, I always thought the comedic aspects are the weakest parts of Fata. I don’t really have any that specifically stood out to me, but every time Maria and Morgana roast Jacopo is beautiful. This one actually made me chuckle out loud:

Day 7 - What Fata Morgana is To You

So it took me a while to think about this one cause I admit I'm not sure I can really put it into words in a way... that makes sense lol. I can't say Fata is a work that like, fundamentally changed or saved my life or something like that (I played HiguUmi first and so Ryukishi took that honor before haha, although it probably would have been the case if I'd discovered Fata earlier when I was still a teen), but I think it basically kind of represents the type of story I love and that is instrinsically so... "me" on a core level.

I spoke a little during Day 3 about Morgana & what she means to me, but basically the story's themes of emphathy and forgiveness and tragedy and identity, the way the narrative's structured and how every scene and character and dialogue has a meaning and purpose is just exactly what I look for in fiction and what resonantes the most with me. If you ask me what is the most like "me" when it comes to stories, then Fata is just the first choice that comes to my mind. I also first read it when I was in the middle of a pretty low point in my life and I do think that it managed to help me a little to get out of that depressive state I was stuck in and, in a way, led me to get more proactive in what I wanted to do with my life. It's what motivated me to get more involved into fandom online spaces as well, whereas until now I used to be more of a quiet lurker, and thus thanks to that I met a lot of cool people I really enjoy talking with!

So yeah. Thanks a lot FataMoru and Novect. You mean a lot to me and I'll always be glad and grateful I got to discover you at the time I did ❤️🦋

[fata10thanni]

The House in Fata Morgana 10th Anniversary Week

🦋 Hello! A fanweek to celebrate Novect’s visual novel The House in Fata Morgana’s 10th year anniversary will be taking place from December 31 to January 9! 🦋

Each of the first 8 days of the week will have for themes the 8 doors of the main game, and the last 2 days will correspond to A Requiem for Innocence and Reincarnation. There will also be subprompts for each day that you are free to follow or not.

This event is open to all fans of FataMoru. You can join by posting any content (fanart, fanfic, memes, videos, edits, etc.) on Twitter or Tumblr following the prompt/s on a specific day.

To boost your content, tag us on both sites and use the hashtag #Fata10thAnni.

Supporting creators is also participation! Please help them by liking, rebloging, and/or commenting if you want.

🦋 Rules and Guidelines

1. Please respect each other. Do not engage in fights or fan discourse/drama. Homophobia, transphobia, slurs, racism, and any other form of disrespect/hate towards other participants is NOT allowed.

2. Anyone can post any form of content (art, fic, memes, video edits, etc.) as they want so long as it corresponds to the prompts assigned to the days.

3. To participate, use the hashtag #Fata10thAnni and tag us @fata10thanni when posting your entries.

4. For NSFW entries, please tag them as #NSFWfata10thanni and tag @fata10thanni. Putting your images or previews under the spoiler option is recommended. -- Please indicate that you are 18+ in your bio if you want to post any NSFW content. Any minor engaging with NSFW contents as either creator or enjoyer will be blocked. If possible, use privatter, poipiku, or any other 3rd-party viewer for NSFW. Ao3 is also accepted. Remember to use proper tags and warnings for your posts. If we have not promoted your submission within a day of posting it, kindly message us on Twitter or Tumblr depending on your preferred site.

🦋 On Content

1. Creators are given three prompts each day to follow. One is the main prompt of the day which must always be followed, and the other two are sub-prompts which you can include one of or both alongside the main prompt.

2. Shipping fics are allowed, as long as properly labeled and tagged.

3. Your entries must be your own work. Plagiarism isn't condoned and you will be blocked if we discover that you have plagiarized or reposted someone else's content without their permission.

4. Old works are allowed if they fit the prompts.

5. Late submissions will still be accepted one month after the event has ended, as long as they are properly tagged. (January 10 - February 10)

🦋 Here is the carrd for more informations as well as the curiouscat for any questions

Please don’t hesitate to participate!