#I had no guidance or support. I barely knew what I was doing other than I needed something to help me when my hip won’t stay in place | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

phan3145 · 1 month ago

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Title: Slippery Slope. Fandom: Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes. Rating: T. ( Cursing, Implications, Intensity) Pairing: Eventual Noa x Human!Reader.

***Notes: So good to be back! I do not have another chapter in the bank, but I will be writing as fast as I possibly can to give you guys regular updates! Also, you have no idea how much Epic: The Wisdom Saga is inspiring future content of this story. I hope you all enjoy this chapter, please leave thoughts and comments, I love reading them! It’s good to be back 😊

Chapter 11: Together Strong

Noa

By the time he had finished, remembering as much as he could about her year as a pet, he felt worse than he had before. His fists were clenched so tightly now, that the object in his hand had started to cut into his skin. As he spoke, Soona and Anaya listened quietly, their eyes speaking volumes about what they were feeling. During his time searching for his clan, Soona and Anaya had been prisoners of Proximus. He knew nothing but freedom, they on the other hand, knew what it meant to be caged. What had been a few days for them, in slightly better conditions, had been a year for their Echo. He could only imagine the way she felt, but Soona and Anaya could understand.

Soona spoke first, breaking the momentary silence, “Explains…much.”

He nodded, eyes glancing over to see Anaya returned to his hunched position, his right hand outstretched in front of him. His Sunset Brother was quiet, only staring at his open palm. He did not understand why. Again, for Anaya to be so silent, worried him. He hooted a few times, attempting to get Anaya’s attention, but he just closed his eyes, head bowing. Another moment passed before Anaya sighed deeply through his nose, palm clenching suddenly into a closed fist.

“Wrong,” Anaya murmured. Soona’s head turned, looking towards Anaya in silent support. She carefully placed her hand on his shoulder, Anaya’s hand coming up in a quick motion to hold hers there. It was a surprising and strangely intimate moment between them, though Anaya would not look at her. He refused to look at either of them, actually. Anaya was working through something, and he knew it…he just did not know what it was.

He felt himself tilt his head in observation of his Sunset Brother, who never thought about his words or actions. He lived his life unburdened, as if he were still a youngling, something even Proximus had been unable to steal from him. Now, he noticed a different side to him, that perhaps was always there, and he had just never been able to see it. Or, there had just never been moments like this for him to show it. Anaya was thinking, deeply, fist slowly unclenching as he made a decision. Anaya gently released Soona’s hand, standing to his full height.

The three of them had moved to the floor of the tower as the weight of their Echo’s story threatened to overwhelm all of them. Each time he thought he could not go on, they would sit and wait patiently for him to continue. Now, as Anaya stood, he rose to join him, noticing his Sunset Brother’s posture was taller than he had ever seen him. The curve to his shoulders was gone, his slightly arched back perfectly straight. This was not on accident, as Anaya turned, his teeth were bared at him. “You should have…told us…you were wrong…you are wrong Noa.”

His stance and words were a surprise, but he already fought one friend today, he could not fight another. He would not. He did not bow, but he did not bare his teeth in return. He nodded, “I was wrong…was worried…the elders-”

“Elders!” Anaya interrupted with a growl. “Elders…are not you…are not Master of Birds…you lead…us…not…them.”

Soona hooted in agreement, “You do not…have to listen…to them Noa.”

He huffed, stepping away and turning his back to his united siblings, arguing, “To ignore their wisdom…ignore their guidance…to put an Echo above the Clan…would make me…a terrible leader.”

“Do you…feel like a good leader…now?” Anaya challenged.

That stopped him. He could not move, the gravity of the question binding him to the very wood beneath his feet. He did not feel like a good leader…then again he never did. He had no experience, no training, and no choice. After Proximus, every member of the clan bowed to him, the one who never once bowed to the tyrant king. It was unexpected, but the elders agreed Noa was the only suitable ape to take up the mantle once they returned home. Apes of course, always sought the strongest branch, sought the strongest ape to lead the clan. He had set himself apart, and inadvertently hurled himself up in rank. His bloodline did nothing but solidify the Clan’s choice as well. Koro’s son, son of the Master of Birds, his rightful successor.

He swallowed the collection of saliva that had rapidly gathered in his mouth, turning again to face Anaya and Soona. He wanted to speak, but could not form the words as he stood there. He could not confess his true fears, confess what he had been trying so hard to deny and hide. He was not the leader everyone wanted him to be. He was jumbled, unsure of himself and how to move forward. He adopted Caesar’s beliefs because he knew that he could never go back to how narrowly he viewed the world around him before. Life was more complicated than that. Ape and humans, were more complicated than that. Caesar knew this, understood it, and he was only starting to learn about it.

He would never be his father, he could not be. Koro was content to leave things as they were, iron faith placed in their traditions and way of life. Not him, he wanted more- yearned to know more. He could not be a leader like Caesar, a leader of legend that spanned generations, always sure of himself and his place in the world. He doubted himself all the time, and ever since meeting their Echo, it only became worse. He only knew how to be himself, trust his instincts and mind to guide him.

Now, those instincts told him to do one thing, while his mind argued the exact opposite. His earlier argument was proof of his inability to understand like Caesar, or to be loyal like his father. He felt his thumb absentmindedly rub against the object in his hand as he processed his own thoughts. It felt oddly freeing, finally allowing himself to admit what he had denied for so long. The weight was still there, but it seemed more manageable with the truth fully acknowledged.

He locked eyes with Anaya then, who waited patiently for him to speak. The truth seemed to be the answer to his struggle, so perhaps that was the only thing he could say now that would make sense. “I do not…know how to be…what everyone needs…me to be.”

Soona’s eyes widened a fraction, glancing between the two males in front of her. Anaya covered his teeth, voice returning to the familiar tone he had grown up with, though his stance did not change as he explained, “Anaya has been with you…since the day of our birth…will be here…until the day one of us…no longer breathes…you only need…to be yourself…not Master of Birds…not Eagle Clan leader…just Noa.”

He avoided Anaya’s eyes then, suddenly feeling unworthy of his Sunset Brother’s loyalty. That’s when he noticed the object clasped tightly in his hand. It was the crown he had made. Had he been holding it this entire time? It was warm from his touch, so he must have been. Even running after Anaya, he held carried it as reverently and carefully as he would have an egg…up hill and into the Eagle enclosure. During his retelling of their Echo’s story, he had been holding it like a youngling’s favorite toy, clutching it tightly to his chest and allowing it to comfort him.

Anaya moved towards him, his gait confident as he gripped Noa’s arm, the one holding the crown. He raised it to be eye level with both of them, Anaya glancing at the gift before shifting his focus back to him. “Brother…friend…builder…crafter…thinker…clever ape…be those things…that is all…we need…was enough before…is enough…now…be Noa.”

He felt the breath release from his chest, Anaya’s words striking at the bad thoughts in his mind like he would a boar. He needed that reminder, no matter how challenging it had been to accept. Anaya believing in him as he was, it gave him the strength he needed to think about the future. To think about how he would fix things with their Echo. Until then, he clasped Anaya’s arm, pulling him in to brush foreheads. He felt Anaya’s other hand come up to pat him on the back, Soona soon joining them in their reconciliation. She hugged Anaya from behind, the weight of both of them knocking him back a step before he caught his balance.

Soona raised an arm over Anaya’s shoulder to brush her knuckles against his temple, blowing a raspberry before agreeing, “Apes together…strong…we are…with you…Noa.”

He nodded, “Will try…to be worthy…of your loyalty…will try…to earn Echo…forgiveness.”

The moment was broken suddenly when Anaya sniffed loudly, gently brushing Soona off of him and taking a few steps towards the open archway. He stopped, turning to ask, “Noa…what is…human word…Mae taught you?”

He was confused. Then the familiar scents hit his own nose, followed by the sound of creaking wood, as many apes made their way to Eagle tower. He felt his muscles tense, the hair along his hackles threatening to rise, “Shit.”

“Yes,” Anaya said, nodding rapidly as his gaze remained on the open arch. “That is the word.”

Soona arched up onto her toes to see the five bodies rounding the corner. She made haste to pull Anaya to the side, calling, “We will…be here…silent.”

His nose wrinkled at the thought, but he remained in place as the elders entered, looking displeased. He huffed once, greeting them with respect, “Elder Luna…Elder Tane…Elder Bhai…Elder Asani…Elder Moros.”

Each elder bowed their head to Noa as he addressed them. Elder Moros stepped forward amongst the five, the one elected to speak on their behalf. The rest of the elders descended to the floor, and Noa followed Moros as he chose to seat himself as well. He respected their need to sit and rest at their age. Elder Luna turned her head, spotting Soona and Anaya off to the side, nodding her head once and raising a hand discreetly in greeting. Soona returned the gesture nervously, before going completely still.

Elder Moros huffed, “There was talk of…a great disturbance…in the village…one the Master of Birds…quickly moved to the…Eagle Tower.”

He saw Anaya shrink next the Soona, shoulders once more taking on that familiar curve as she attempted to comfort him. He avoided staring too long, not wanting to alert the elders of their presence just yet. Instead he hummed, “Yes.”

Elder Moros raised his brows, “I hope it has been…dealt with…there were whispers…it was about…an Echo…your Echo?”

He raised his head a little higher, “It was…the matter is finished…but the Echo…she is not…here.”

There were disturbed hoots from several of the elders behind Elder Moros, who sniffed, “We believed…Echo would show…today…Eagle Sun was seen…returning without you…so the village…could prepare…was this untrue?”

He felt his hackles begin to rise, and with a curled fist he confessed, “It was not…I brought her…to the edge of the village…but she ran.”

More whispers and hoots from the elders, Elder Luna the only one to remain silent before Elder Moros raised his hand to command quiet. “Echo…ran…this is unusual…concerning…I must insist once more…you give up this pursuit…of the first elder…and leave this Echo…to be chased away…least she bring…destruction upon us…as the last one did.”

“His name was Caesar!” Anaya snapped as he stepped forward, Soona tugging at his arm in a useless attempt to stop him. “And this Echo should be of no more concern to you…than a butterfly…she does not deserve to be chased away…she is kind, and true, and has taught us much since…since meeting her…we…we know more….and she…she is not dangerous father…E-Elder Moros.”

Anaya’s speech began to slow and lose its authority as Elder Moros stood. The slip in title caused a spike of fear to trail up his own spine. Anaya’s father, Elder Moros, did not claim him often as his son, though it was true. His mate was older, much like Moros himself, when Anaya was conceived. The pregnancy was a surprise that went well enough, as the previous ones had, but there were complications after birth due to her age. She died before a full lunar cycle had passed, and Elder Moros wanted nothing to do with the youngling that he believed caused the death of his mate.

That was another reason the three of them had been inseparable. Moros and Koro had been lifelong friends, and while Koro did not condone the treatment of Anaya by his father, he knew the only thing he could do was take in the abandoned chimp and hope Moros would eventually see reason. Dar, and Soona’s mother Lyra, had taken turns nursing him as a baby, and they were raised as brothers under Dar’s care. Moros had been fine with this arrangement, occasionally acknowledging Anaya as they grew together, but more often than not keeping his distance and focusing on his duties within the clan.

In all that time, he had never seen Anaya say more than a few words to Elder Moros, let alone speak against him. His father took a few steps towards Anaya, forcing his son to bow his head in a clear show of respect. Anaya held his arm out to push back and shield Soona from his father’s potential ire. Elder Moros was indifferent as he spoke, “I see you are still…causing a disturbance…regarding this echo…if she wants to run…we should let her run…dangerous or not.”

He saw Anaya bare his teeth then, brows furrowing as he pushed back from the alcove, standing straight once more, fully concealing Soona’s form in the process. “She is scared…she is true Echo…she accepts and cares…for apes…who treat her…with respect.”

“What respect…does an Echo deserve?” Elder Moros snarled. “You speak of respect…yet you should not…be here…you are not welcome…among the Elders.”

Anaya lowered his head again, hurt swirling in his eyes. Elder Moros scoffed at Anaya, clearly satisfied with himself and Anaya’s submission, but the words and actions crossed a line with him. A line he would not abide. He stepped in between the two, chest to chest with Elder Moros, who took a large step back as he surged forward. “He is welcome…maybe not by elders…but Anaya and Soona both …are welcome among…the Master of Birds.”

One hand reached for Anaya, the other for Soona, guiding them by the shoulders to his spot in the center of the room, facing the elders. He placed Anaya to his right, and Soona to his left. Anaya faced Elder Asani, and Soona faced Elder Luna, who could not hide a smile upon noticing that his Sunset Brother and Sister were being forcibly recognized. Elder Moros looked shocked and somewhat unsettled. Good. He did not spare him a second glance, announcing, “I will no longer hear words…regarding the Echo and her…strange behavior…she will be met when…or if…she ever decides to enter the village…of her own free will…I have spoken with her…on many occasions…have learned from her…have much respect for her…will not let apes who do not…speak of her intent…I trust her…that is the end.”

Elder Moros huffed, “You trust other Echo…and she killed many apes…selfish in her own…pursuit of freedom.”

“She was not selfish,” Soona challenged, surprising everyone present. “She was forced to act…to do what she thought…best…Proximus was the threat…and that was without…the human weapons…she possessed.”

“Such loyalty…to a dishonorable…Echo,” Elder Moros spat, teeth slightly visible. “Do you not remember…your own mother was swept away…by her ex-plo-sion weapon?”

“I do remember,” Soona replied calmly. “I also recall my father…beaten and killed by Proximus apes…starving and too weak to fight back…I remember…Mae saved my life…saved our lives…killing another human…to protect us…to free us…you can not…call her selfish…while I breathe.”

This shocked even him. They never spoke about the flood, of Mae’s betrayal while they all fought to survive against the incoming water. Soona always seemed as though she did not care for Mae, but apparently there were more complex feelings for the human than Soona had let on. She was not alone apparently, Anaya arguing, “She did more…to free us…to free Eagle Clan...without apes dying…but Proximus…smarter…no other way…to stop him.”

“Noa stopped…Proximus.” Elder Asani spoke from behind Elder Moros.

He shook his head sadly, “I planned…to flood the vault…lead clan away from kingdom…while Proximus was distracted…it did not happen…as we planned.”

This surprised many elders, a harsh silence engulfing the group. Much like the elders of the past, they did not ask questions about that day in Proximus’ kingdom. They did not want to know. Their desire to return home, to forget what they had experienced, had caught up with them. They could not argue against the truth, which they had chosen to ignore. Elder Moros would not be deterred it seemed, snarling, “It was still…the Echo’s fault…she chose herself…over the many…Echos can not be trusted...this is why for many generations…we chase…the pests away.”

The loud hiss to his right made him jump, Anaya pushing himself forward onto his knees as he growled, “She is not…a pest…does not deserve…to be called one.”

“You dare speak…on what this Echo…does not deserve!” Elder Moros accused. He had never personally heard the elder raise his voice before, feeling the tension in the room grow now, as father and son were suddenly face to face, inches apart. “You have spent…time with her…so speak true…what does this secretive Echo deserve…from apes of the Eagle Clan?”

Anaya did not hesitate, eyes unblinking and lips firmly over his teeth as he gritted out, “Your…respect.”

Elder Moros sniffed, leaning back into his sitting position and turning away from Anaya, “You have…more of my respect…than Echo pest ever will.”

“Enough!”

The room shook from the resounding vibrations of the shout, the few eagles within the sanctuary screeching and taking flight to find their bonded-ape within the village. The quiet and stillness that followed made him uneasy, but when he noticed all eyes were on him, he realized the shout had come from him. He was standing now, towering over the others as they all bowed their heads. Elder Moros, while reluctant, also bowed his head, keeping his gaze on the floor below him.

Soona was the first to raise her head, gaze finding his and silently questioning if he was alright. He gave a single nod, breathing harshly once through his nose to clear his mind. This is exactly what he had tried to prevent. Their Echo knew…she knew all along. Apes would not accept her just because he said so, apes like Elder Moros would also find fault with her simply for being an Echo. Still, he would not give up. Anaya was right, she deserved more than this.

He would not let his Clan become like them.

“Hear me now,” he began, waiting for all heads to raise. When he had their attention, he continued, “This Echo is not a threat…not a danger to the clan…she is…more…she is as first elder was…she teaches about fairness…kindness…equality…and humanity…something that has been dying…from her race.”

“What is…humanity?” Elder Tane asked.

He was not sure how to answer that. He only knew what it was, because he knew their Echo. She was humanity, the best of all qualities found in her species. He opened his mouth, words ready to tumble forth, when his gaze shifted to a bowl resting on a table to his left. All thoughts ceased. His attention was caught by bright red berry and sap mixture they used to create nest binding. His brows creased and lips pursed as he carefully scooped up the bowl, an idea forming in his mind. He paced over to the nearby wall, grunting once as he explained, “Humanity…is complicated…it means many things…from what I have learned…sometimes it is about…doing what is right…when right seems wrong…showing kindness…when kindness has not been shown to you.”

There were confused looks from a few, but he knew they were listening. Soona smiled at him, nodding her head once, urging him to keep going. He dipped his fingers in the bowl, careful not to drip the red mixture as he pulled them out. He looked to the wood in front of him, gliding his fingers in long arcs across the smooth surface. He quickly swiped left to right, right to left, to create the diamond in the center of a larger circle. Below the circle, he was about to write an A, but stopped himself just before his fingers made contact with the wood. He pulled his hand back quickly to hover over the bowl, wondering why he was hesitating now.

Then, he remembered Raka’s words. His voice was loud in his head. His words not so different from Caesar…but more evolved. He continued writing, speaking to the apes at his back, “The symbols have meaning…and this is what…the Echo has taught me…what we have learned…since she…saved my life.”

He drew a long line underneath the words, only now realizing and hoping that he spelled it correctly. He turned, facing the stunned elders now. He found Soona’s gaze, nodding once as she read out, “T-O-G-E-T-H-E-R….S-T-R-O-N-G…”

“Together…strong,” he answered. “This is the…al-pha-bet…humans used symbols…to record…their history…to preserve…what they knew…we are learning…and we can learn more…they are not lesser…we are not better…only together…can we be…more.”

Elder Luna stood, shuffling towards where he stood. She traced several letters with her hand, looking forlornly at the wall before turning to him. “You expect much…Master of Birds…we are too old…to learn the ways of…hu-man-ity.”

He sighed through his nose, jaw slackening as he felt his hope sink. Elder Luna, ever full of surprises, turned back to the Elders present, “Does not mean…Eagle Clan can not learn…Master of Birds…can help them…evolve.”

“We should…discuss this,” Elder Moros argued. “That is what…elder council…is for.”

“It is clear,” Elder Luna huffed. “Master of Birds…does not need…our council…has…his own.”

Elder Luna gestured to Anaya and Soona, both appearing shocked, exchanging looks with each other, as she voiced her observation. Elder Bhai nodded his head, sniffing, “We are…not needed…seems…younglings have…outgrown…their elders.”

“We are allowing young ape…to make decisions for Eagle Clan?” Elder Moros challenged, “Ignoring…generations of…wisdom and tradition…Echo had this knowledge…yet they are…nearly gone…you think…ape will survive…from their ways…when they…could not?”

The elders began to mumble amongst themselves. He quickly stepped in, before Elder Moros’ words could cause an unnecessary rift, “Elders are still…needed…respected…Anaya and Soona are…my Caesar Council…they understand new ways…as I do…Elder Council knows…the old ways…we need both if the Clan…is to survive…from this point onward.”

Elder Luna hummed, “I agree…with Master of Birds…what say…the rest?”

There was a long stretch of silence, before Elder Asani let out a screech of approval. She repeated the sound, followed by Elder Luna. Elder Bhai seemed hesitant, but soon screeched as loudly as the other two. There was a steady chorus of repeating sounds, enough for Soona to feel confident adding her hooting to the fray. Elder Tane took some convincing, glancing between Elder Moros and the rest of the group. Elder Tane glanced his way, the eye contact sparking resolve within the ape. He stood, screeching the loudest and beating his chest with a closed fist.

This surprised him, a shocked gasp passing between his lips as he took a step back, the gift he made for their Echo still held tightly in his hand. Would she be proud of them for this? Would she join in with a yell of her own if she were here? He wanted that- in the future. He was suddenly overwhelmed with ideas of how she could make better the Eagle Clan, make better their home. He had to physically shake himself, trying to stay focused on the apes before him. Only two remained silent…well, half silent. Anaya was still seated, glaring his father down as he kept a thumping tempo, his fist steady on the floor. The harsh pounding of wood added to the overwhelming sound around the enclosure, and feeling the tension rise within the room, Anaya’s father finally relented.

Elder Moros leapt to his feet, screeching his solidarity with the rest of the elders. That’s all it took for the room to suddenly fall silent. He held his head high, nodding once and grunting his acknowledgment, eyes scanning over all present in the room. Elder Tane huffed, “We shall…leave…the Master of Birds…and his…Caesar Council.”

Elder Luna placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, giving a small pat before following the rest of the elders out. Elder Moros still did not seem pleased, but would not dare go against a council decision. Soona’s eyes kept darting between the retreating elders and himself, waiting a breath or two once they were gone before launching herself at him. She hooted happily, wrapping her arms around his shoulders while he clutched her tightly, howling his own amusement.

He expected a third to join them, to hit his right side and cause them all to nearly topple to the ground. When the blow never came, he searched his surroundings. He came up empty handed, even checking behind him. While Soona still celebrated, he breathed out, “Anaya…where…where Anaya?”

Soona seemed confused by his question, releasing him to mimic his previous action. She turned all the way in a circle, looking about the enclosure but coming to the same conclusion as him, “…Gone.”

He could not understand. Where would Anaya go? Why would he leave without speaking to him, or Soona. She looked more hurt by his disappearance than he was, shuffling over to the archway of the enclosure to look out into the clearing. He joined her, looking for the familiar hunched shoulders and swaying walk of his Sunset Brother. Perhaps it had to do with his father, knowing that the indifference, or disappointment, of one’s father could weigh heavily on an ape.

Soona’s cry pierced his thoughts as she pointed frantically towards the stables. There, carrying a torch as his horse passed the stables and galloped quickly into the forest, was Anaya. He grunted, huffing, “Dark soon…why…where would he…go?”

Soona hummed in thought, head swiveling left and right for a moment before her startled gaze locked on his, “Echo!”

His eyes widened, “He would not…so late.”

“You would…take that risk?” Soona argued, “He could…make it worse…dark…Echo is…sensitive…one or both…could get hurt.”

He sighed, agreeing, “Will bring him…home…do not…speak of this.”

Soona shook her head, “Never….please Noa…be careful.”

He nodded, hunching onto all fours to race down the enclosure. He noticed most apes were already at the communal bonfire, the smell of food temporarily distracting him. He shook himself, pacing towards his horse. Only Anaya could un-jumble him into accepting himself as leader, speaking with wisdom beyond his years, and then force him to chase and drag him home like a newborn. It would be humorous if it was not so troublesome. The longer his mind wandered, trying to reason where Anaya might go, the more he realized there was only one place he would go during sunset on horseback. The worst part, was that Anaya had a head start on him. He could only hope their Echo was shut-in her shelter for the night, and would refuse to acknowledge Anaya.

That thought suddenly made his stomach burn. Anaya cared a great deal about their Echo, and he did too. The thought of her ignoring him, leaving him alone outside wanting to speak with her…it brought a twinge of despair into his heart. It reminded him of his own problem. How would he approach her in the future? She would not stay mad forever. Could not.

He lifted himself onto the saddle of his horse, trying to be as discreet as possible, until he made it to the edge of the clearing. He reached forward, using his palm to trace a circle on his horse’s neck before patting it three times. The signal was well received, and once he made sure they were headed in the right direction, he dug his heels in and whipped the reigns. His horse took off in a full sprint towards the creek.

A flapping noise next to him caught his attention, finding Eagle Sun gliding alongside him. He was surprised, knowing he did not care for night flights. He must sense his own distress, wanting to go with him as a form of protection. The ride was never short, but with his mind racing with what he could possibly say, what he could potentially walk into…he had arrived far too soon. Eagle Sun glided to the top of the Echo’s stone structure, disappearing from sight. Again, he dismissed the bird’s actions, climbing down from his horse and tying the reigns to the usual branch. It was funny, that he had established a favored branch, realizing just how often he had come to their Echo’s home. A high pitched whine somewhere in the distance distracted him for a moment, but he ignored it in favor of finding Anaya.

He spotted his horse next to the entrance of the Echo’s home, but did not see Anaya or his torch. There was a small crack of space in the Echo’s door, but he could not fit himself through it. He could only smell the smoke from her fire and see the light reflecting inside. He pounded on the stone, calling their Echo’s name, hoping she would respond. He waited, but there was nothing. He thought for a moment he heard shuffling towards the door, hooting in delight, but when no one responded, he called her name again.

Eagle Sun returned then, soaring overhead and looping back towards the side of the rocks. He recalled the hole in the ground, her other entrance that he was not particularly fond of. Was she back there? Was Anaya? Perhaps she did not want to lift the rock so late…it would make sense to go the other way.

He was careful of his footing in the dark, shadows playing tricks amongst the rocks and causing him to stumble once. His suspicions were confirmed when he saw Anaya’s torch staked into the ground nearby. He rounded the corner, and what he found unleashed a storm of emotions within him.

Their Echo was laying on the ground, her entire body flush on the dirt. Her legs curled together, turned sideways to avoid the ape that was above her. Anaya was standing above her, crouched low on his haunches, with his hands buried in their Echo’s hair. Her own hands and arms were outstretched above her head, laying limply.

He was only distracted from the scene when she turned her face away from Anaya, to look directly at him. Her eyes were wet, like they had been that day in the library, and her face was light red. He did not know what was happening, or what her human features meant, but there was something he could see in her eyes that looked desperate. They were pleading, for what, he was not sure. Still, he did the only thing that made sense.

Following his instincts, he paced towards the two, growling, “Anaya!”

Said ape practically leapt away from the too still Echo, avoiding his gaze and bowing his head. He hooted, “Hello…Noa.”

He growled somewhere deep in his chest, turning away from Anaya, scenting the air as he approached their Echo. She would not move from her place on the ground, but had raised herself into a sitting position at least. She too avoided his gaze, wrapping her arms around her bent knees as he continued to try to decipher the situation before him. It was frustrating, all he could smell was Anaya…and a faint trace of blood.

He wanted to get angry, to attack Anaya for causing harm to their Echo, but he could not find any traces of blood on her. Not her face, her hands, her feet, or even on her clothing. He could not find any proof that Anaya was responsible for the blood smell, but he would not meet his eye and that made him suspicious. He did not understand what he had walked into, and neither ape nor human were speaking!

He huffed, crouching down to be eye level with their Echo. She stared at him now, looking as frightened as she had the day they first met. But why? Did she think he was still angry with her? He tried to smile, offering her his hand, “You are…alright?”

She looked at his open palm, eyes darting to Anaya before returning to him. He turned to see Anaya standing a good distance away from both of them, shifting nervously. When he returned his gaze to her, she simply shook her head and arched slightly away from him. This surprised him, his frustration growing now the longer the silence stretched on.

He stood, ready to demand answers, but Anaya interrupted before he could speak, “Echo…does not want…to speak right now…will meet Noa tomorrow…by water rock…Anaya will…show him the way.”

He grunted, another low rumble emanating from his chest before he asked again, “Echo is…alright…not hurt?”

He noticed a slight tremor to her shoulders before she chose to sign, Echo fine. Speak tomorrow.

He turned from her to Anaya several times, puffing out a frustrated breath, “Fine…Anaya and I…leave now…return home…understand?”

Anaya nodded, and so did their Echo, still on the ground. He turned his head, asking, “On ground but…not hurt…can stand?”

Another brief exchange between her and Anaya, causing him to drive his canines into his gums. Why does she keep looking to him? She carefully stands, as if moving is difficult for her. Once they are nearly chest to chest, face to face, she signs again, Echo fine. Speak tomorrow. Goodnight.

It was a dismissal…one he was not happy with, but would accept for now. He nodded, grunting, “We go…now.”

He backed away from their Echo, watching Anaya follow behind him. Just as they were about to round the corner into darkness, he heard her call out, “Anaya!”

Both of them turned to face her, one in confusion and the other in shock, watching as she practically sprinted to Anaya. She threw her arms around him, smashing her body against his, getting as physically close as she possibly could. Anaya did not seem surprised by this, returning her embrace and resting his chin on the top of her head. He stood there, feeling cold suddenly, though the freezing season was far off yet.

Another breath or two and she was releasing Anaya, staring up at him in silence. He was looking down at her with that same expression, something soundless passing between them. Then she whispered, so quietly he would have missed it had he not been watching her so intently, “Thank you.”

Anaya raised his hand to pat the top of her head. He rested it there a moment before humming, “Anything…for Echo.”

She laughed. She laughed as if nothing was wrong, as if they had not fought before sunset, as if he was not standing there at all! Anger was returning, and he shoved it away, believing Anaya would explain on the way home. Their Echo released Anaya, eyes finally landing on him. The brief happiness he had seen in her gaze was extinguished like a flame, another emotion taking its place. That same one he could not understand, something powerful, but sad and scared as well. Why? She had never looked at him that way before. She gave him a slight nod, before turned and made her way towards her hole in the ground.

Anaya was watching him watch her, feeling his Sunset Brother’s eyes roam over his face. He turned his head sharply, catching Anaya off guard. He jumped back, clearly surprised. Before he could say anything, Anaya began walking, “Yes…we go…go home now.”

He took a deep breath, letting out a long sigh through his nose. He did not know why, but something about what he just saw bothered him. It made the skin under his fur feel irritated. It felt like a colony of ants had burrowed under his fur and were biting him mercilessly. He did not like this feeling, and he did not like that Anaya was the one their Echo was talking to. Why did she not speak with him? It was obvious she could speak, so why? Was it because she was still angry with him? Had he hurt her so much that she would purposely ignore him and talk with Anaya instead? Touch Anaya, in an affectionate way she had never shown him before? As they mounted their respective horses, he was reminded of Anaya’s words he had spoken in the Eagle Tower.

You are not…the only one…who speaks with her.

His chest felt tight then. Watching Anaya bring his horse forward to ride alongside his, he realized how true that statement was. She had trusted him with her story, but she had also trusted Anaya with some of it. She trusted Anaya tonight, more than she did him. Had that always been the case? If not, when had it started? When had Anaya surpassed him?

Anaya did not speak, and the silence made him practically pant for answers. It was clumsy, but he asked, “Echo…was different…what happened…while you two…spoke?”

Anaya refused to look at him, focused on the path ahead. He simply grunted, “We…bonded.”

“Bonded?” He repeated, hoping Anaya would say more. When he did not, he prodded, “Bond…like with Eagle?”

Anaya shook his head, but did not say anything more. This angered him further, and he lost his tact as he spoke, “Smelled blood…on Echo…smelled you…on Echo.”

Anaya jerked his head towards him then, “Anaya…did too…could not…find it…looked…very close.”

He snarled, “Is that why…you were crouched…on top of her?”

Anaya’s eyes squinted, a small amount, but enough to let him know that his Sunset Brother understood what he was implying. “Did not…hurt Echo…would not hurt her…or betray her trust.”

That caught him off guard, it was such a strange thing to say. He calmed a bit, wondering, “What were…you doing?”

There was a long stretch of silence before Anaya confessed, “Helping…Echo.”

“Helping?” He repeated again, not understanding. “How were…you helping…Echo does not like to be…too close to ape.”

Anaya turned his head away from him, growling, “Noa thinks…he knows everything…but you do not know…Echo like you think…you do.”

“If you have…something to say,” he began. “Then…speak up.”

Anaya still refused to look at him as he said, “Echo is not…only yours…do not…treat her like…she is.”

“I do not,” he defended. “Echo belongs…to no one.”

Anaya huffed once, humming, “Anaya thinks… you should…remember that…in the future.”

#kingdom of the planet of the apes #kotpota #planet of the apes #pota #noa #noa x reader #noa pota #fanfiction #kotpota noa #noa kotpota #kotpota soona #soona pota #soona #anaya #kotpota anaya #anaya pota #noa planet of the apes #planet of the apes x reader #Slippery Slope Series

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milfjuulpod · 8 months ago

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Guidance Ch IV

An apology is shared between you and Melissa, with a surprise had afterwards.

read the first chapters here

A/N hi don’t hate me for this being so late, i’m working on the next chapter for you lovelies already! does anyone read these notes? anywho lmk what you think!! kisses 💋

Before your alarm went off in the morning, you were up. Anxiety high, mind full of everything that could go wrong meeting with Melissa today. Last time you saw her it went…not well. You were ready thirty minutes early, heading to the coffee shop much faster than you should be driving at 6:30 in the morning.

Coming on to the school grounds, you had your bag slung over your shoulder, two coffees in hand. A latte for you, and a macchiato for Melissa. Of course there was an apology to go along with the coffee, but it couldn’t hurt to bring her a little present. After dropping off your personal belongings, you made the unbearable trek to her classroom. The warmth from the drinks didn’t help the sweat coming from your hands.

At her door, you took in a deep breath. Never before have you been so nervous to apologize. What if she was still mad and didn’t want to listen? What if she didn’t believe you? Realizing the options were to go inside and give it your best shot, or stand outside the door and spiral out, you finally decided on the former.

A couple quiet knocks on the door, and you gently let yourself in. Melissa’s head popped up at the sound, her demeanor stiffening at the sight of you. “Hey, I wanted to apologize,” you started. The redhead said nothing, in fact she crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. Nonetheless, you approached her desk and continued.

“I shouldn’t have believed what I heard, especially since things were going so well, there was no reason to. And I’m sorry for making such a big deal out of it. I know you’re probably regretting starting to be friends, so I hope we can at least remain professional.” You ended the statement by placing the coffee in front of her and immediately leaving. After accidentally getting a bit emotional with your words at the end, you just wanted to leave.

Luckily your office wasn’t far, and you were back in a safe space, for now, at least. You pulled out your phone to text Gregory that you took his advice and hoped for the best, and texted Janine the same thing as well. One for logical support and one for girl talk, of course. After wrapping up those conversations, you started up your computer for the work day. Only fifteen minutes until the kids came in, which didn’t affect you as much, but chaos would sure ensue.

You had barely gotten started when there was a knock at your office door, strange since it was so early. You offered a “Come in!” and poked your head past the screen to see who could be needing something at this hour. It was Melissa, with a look you hadn’t seen on her before. Embarrassment, shame maybe.

“Hey,” She started, closing the door behind her. She didn’t sit down at your desk though, instead she remained at the door. “Thank you for the coffee, you didn’t have to do that. If anything I’m the one who should be sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that hon, I know how Janine can be and the reputation I have. I know you mean well.”

You were silent for a moment. Shocked, honestly, at Melissa’s words and actions. It took you a moment to gather your words, trying to be careful this time.

“It’s okay. I think it’s safe to say neither of us handled it well,” You joked. She smiled, but didn’t look at you. The floor seemed to be more interesting at the moment. The redhead stood there silently, looking at the floor. Her smile faded into a furrowed brow. Unsure of what to do, you waited, afraid of scaring her off. From what you knew about the woman, Melissa was not one to get emotional with others, so treading lightly seemed best.

“I don’t regret it, by the way.” She finally spoke. Her emerald eyes finally returned to your gaze again after she got her first sentence out. You bit back a smile, trying to hide the joy and pride from watching Melissa work out and speak about her emotions not only in front of you, but to you directly. It was a big step for her, so it was clear she was no longer upset with you. She seemed to be in a better place, so you tried for more.

“You don’t regret what, Melissa?” You asked, but instead of keeping eye contact, you focused on moving your bag from the desk to the floor and a few other items around, giving her a moment of space and pseudo-solitude.

“Being friends with you. Earlier when you were…bringing me coffee you said I might regret starting to be friends with you. I just want you to know I don’t,” She answered after a couple moments. You looked back up at her and smiled, unable to hold it back this time. “I’m happy to hear that, I’ll see you at lunch?”

“I’ll see you there,” Melissa replied and returned your smile, turning to make her exit. “Hold on…Did you just, guidance counselor me?” She asked, hand frozen on the door handle.

“Maybe,” You replied, not taking your eyes off the screen in front of you. The redhead huffed in annoyance but you turned your gaze at the right time and saw she was still smiling.

The first half of the day was easy to get through thanks to the buzz from seeing your work crush earlier. Lunch luckily came sooner than expected, and you made your way down to the break room with a pep in your step. Upon arrival, you saw Melissa and Barbara were already at their usual seats, with a third empty spot next to Melissa. You started walking towards the fridge, but stopped halfway. In an effort to make amends with your friend this morning, lunch was completely forgotten about. With a sigh, you turned back around to get lunch elsewhere.

“Hey kid, where ya goin?” You knew that voice from anywhere. With an extra pouty look, you turned to face Melissa.

“I may or may not have forgotten my lunch this morning, so I’m going to grab something at the store really quick,” You answered. Melissa kicked out the seat next to her and motioned for you to come to her, so you did. She pushed the tupperware she had to you and got up to the fridge to grab a salad she had as well. When she sat back down, you gave her a quiet thank you, to which she gave you a warm smile.

Your phone buzzed on the table, a text from Jacob that read, I’m glad to see this morning went well!

You smiled and set the phone back down, and when you looked up, Melissa was looking at you with a smirk and raised brow. Rolling your eyes earned you a nudge from the other woman, she obviously saw the text as well. Lunch continued with this light energy, everyone chatting about their day and whatever was on their minds for the next thirty minutes. It was nice, you were starting to feel settled at Abbott. Even though the issue with Melissa wasn’t pleasant, it made you realize how quickly you had become one of the group.

Despite getting a head start on this morning, the day seemed to drag with the amount of work on your plate. It wasn’t until after the kids had left that you were finally pulled away from the strenuous projects you took on.

“It’s open,” You said sweetly to whoever was behind the door, not yet glancing up from the computer.

“Hey, what’s-Oh! Melissa!” You interrupted yourself as soon as you looked up and saw the Italian woman. She tried to hide her smile and pink cheeks, but you caught it, just in time.

“Hi hon, could I sit with you for a minute?” She asked, but instead of pulling out the chair in front of you, she crossed sides of the room and sat herself atop your desk, barely scooting over your keyboard.

“Yeah go ahead, make yourself at home,” You teased. In that instant, you realized how close she was to you. Her knees were level with your abdomen, just a couple inches away, sitting oh so pretty on your desk. You couldn’t look anywhere but her even if you wanted to, and couldn’t help but wonder if she did that on purpose.

“Listen…I’m startin’ to think my apology this morning wasn’t enough. Let me make you dinner tonight, at mine,” Her sultry voice spoke.

Dinner? At Melissa’s? Cooked by her? Was this a dream?

“Words, my dear. Yes or no? You won’t hurt my feelings.” It was so hard to focus on her words and speak your own when she looked this good, this close, treating you with this kind of attention.

“I- Yes. Yeah, I’d love that.”

“Good, because I lied. That would’ve hurt my feelings,” She smiled at you, and you returned it. “I’ll text you my address now, just let me know when you’re heading over. I’ll probably start cooking around 6, but you’re welcome over whenever,” Melissa told you. She went to stand and take her exit, but you stopped her with your hands on her knees.

“Wait, do you want me to bring anything? I can’t expect you to do all the work,” You said honestly, trying to ignore how warm Melissa’s skin felt through the fabric of her pants. Unbeknownst to you, she was trying to ignore the sensation as well.

“Mm, I think I have a couple bottles of wine at the house but if you want anything specific I’d grab it on the way. Other than that, just bring you. That’s all I need,” The redhead smiled and gently took your hands off her so she could stand. As she walked out of your office, she shouted, “See ya tonight!”

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti #abbott elementary fic #abbott elementary #lisa ann walter #reader fic #wlw fic

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callsigns-haze · 3 months ago

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Goodbye

Eris x Rhysand's Sister!Reader Summary: Y/N struggles with the emotional weight of leaving Eris and Finna for a year of intense training, leading to a tearful and comforting night in Eris's arms. Chapter contains themes of separation, emotional distress, and a tearful farewell.

*Serves as a one-shot but can be read as memories fade or the sequel loves haze series

As the evening light faded into darkness, Y/N and Eris slowly prepared for bed. The day had been full of laughter and love, but as the quiet of the night settled around them, a sense of seriousness began to take over. They moved in tandem, an unspoken rhythm between them as they changed into their nightclothes and slid beneath the soft covers of their bed. Ace and Charlie, their loyal hounds, were already curled up in their designated spots by the fireplace, their breathing deep and even.

Eris wrapped his arm around Y/N, pulling her close as they lay side by side. She nestled against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her cheek. For a moment, they simply enjoyed the warmth of each other's presence, letting the tranquility of the night wash over them. But Y/N could feel the weight of the words she needed to say pressing down on her, making it hard to fully relax.

"Eris," she began softly, her voice barely more than a whisper. "There's something we need to talk about."

He glanced down at her, a hint of concern in his golden eyes. "What is it, love?"

She hesitated, taking a deep breath before continuing. "Finna’s powers... they're growing stronger every day. We've done well so far, teaching him the basics, but it's not enough anymore. He's going to need more intense training if we want him to learn how to control them."

Eris's brow furrowed slightly, sensing the gravity of what she was about to say. "What do you mean, Y/N?"

She shifted slightly, turning so she could look into his eyes. "When we were kids, we had to undergo rigorous training to master our abilities, to learn how to harness our magic. Finna needs that now, and I’m the only one who can guide him through it. But it’s going to take time—serious time."

"How much time?" Eris asked, his voice steady, though she could hear the underlying tension.

"A year," she replied, her heart tightening at the words. "It’ll take at least a year, and that means... that means you won’t see us during that time. We'll have to go somewhere secluded, where he can focus entirely on his training without distractions."

Eris's grip on her tightened involuntarily, the idea of being separated from both his mate and his son for that long sinking in. "A whole year," he echoed, a mix of disbelief and reluctance in his tone.

"I know it’s a lot to ask," Y/N said, her own voice trembling slightly. "But this is for Finna’s future. If he doesn’t learn how to control his powers now, they could become dangerous—not just for him, but for everyone around him. I need to do this, Eris. For him."

Eris closed his eyes briefly, drawing her even closer. The thought of not seeing Y/N or Finna for an entire year was almost unbearable, but deep down, he knew she was right. Finna’s powers were growing at an alarming rate, and without proper guidance, they could spiral out of control.

"I hate the idea of being apart from you both for so long," he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. "But I trust you, Y/N. I trust you to do what’s best for Finna. If this is what needs to be done, then I’ll support you, even if it means being apart."

She pressed a soft kiss to his chest, grateful for his understanding even in the face of such a difficult decision. "Thank you, Eris," she whispered. "I know it won’t be easy, but we’ll make it through this. And when we come back, Finna will be stronger, more in control. He’ll be ready for whatever comes next."

They lay there in silence for a long moment, holding each other tightly, both of them knowing that this was the calm before the storm. Eris buried his face in her hair, breathing in her scent as he tried to commit every detail to memory. A year was a long time, but for the sake of their son, they would endure it.

Finally, Eris spoke again, his voice soft but resolute. "We’ll make it through this, Y/N. We’ve faced worse before, and we’ve always come out stronger. Just promise me... promise me you’ll come back to me."

She lifted her head to meet his gaze, her eyes shining with love and determination. "I promise, Eris. We’ll come back to you. And when we do, we’ll be a family again."

Later that night, after the weight of their conversation settled in, Y/N lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. The room was dark, save for the soft glow of the fire in the hearth, casting flickering shadows across the walls. Eris had fallen asleep beside her, his arm still draped protectively over her waist. His breathing was deep and even, a steady rhythm that usually brought her comfort.

But tonight, comfort seemed elusive.

The reality of what she was about to do weighed heavily on her chest, making it hard to breathe. She had tried to stay strong during their conversation, tried to reassure Eris that this was the right choice, that they would get through it. But now, in the silence of the night, all the emotions she had been holding back came crashing down on her.

She couldn’t stop the tears from welling up in her eyes, hot and stinging. She blinked rapidly, trying to keep them at bay, but it was no use. The first tear slipped down her cheek, quickly followed by another, and another, until she couldn’t hold them back anymore.

She buried her face in the pillow, trying to muffle her sobs so she wouldn’t wake Eris. The thought of leaving him, of leaving their home and everything they had built together, even for a year, was tearing her apart. She had never been away from him for so long, had never imagined she would have to be. And then there was Finna—how could she take him away from his father for a whole year?

Her heart ached at the thought. She knew it was necessary, knew that Finna needed this training, but the pain of it still cut deep. The fear that something might happen to Eris while they were gone, or that Finna might struggle with the intense training, loomed large in her mind. What if she wasn’t strong enough to help him? What if she failed?

Her body shook with the force of her sobs, her hand clenching the bedsheets as she tried to keep herself from completely breaking down. She had to be strong, had to do this for Finna, for their family. But the fear and the guilt were overwhelming.

Suddenly, she felt Eris stir beside her. She froze, hoping he wouldn’t wake up, but it was too late. His arm tightened around her, and he shifted, his sleepy voice heavy with concern.

"Y/N?" he murmured, his voice thick with sleep. "What’s wrong?"

She quickly wiped at her eyes, trying to compose herself. "Nothing," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I didn’t mean to wake you."

But Eris wasn’t fooled. He propped himself up on one elbow, his gaze soft but intent as he looked down at her. "Don’t lie to me," he said gently, brushing a tear from her cheek with his thumb. "I can feel that you’re upset. Talk to me."

Her resolve crumbled under the tenderness of his touch, and a fresh wave of tears spilled over. "I’m scared, Eris," she admitted, her voice breaking. "I’m so scared of leaving you, of taking Finna away. What if something goes wrong? What if I can’t do this?"

Eris’s heart ached at the sight of her so distraught. He pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly against his chest. "Hey, hey," he soothed, stroking her hair. "You’re not alone in this. We’ll figure it out together, like we always do. I know it’s hard, and I hate the thought of being apart just as much as you do, but you’re the strongest person I know. You can do this."

She clung to him, her fingers digging into his shirt as she buried her face in his chest. His words were like a balm to her raw emotions, but the fear still lingered. "I don’t want to leave you," she whispered, her voice cracking. "I don’t know how I’m going to do this without you."

Eris kissed the top of her head, his lips lingering there as he held her close. "You’re not doing this without me," he murmured. "I’ll be with you every step of the way, even if I’m not physically there. And when it’s over, when you and Finna come back to me, we’ll be stronger than ever. I promise you that."

She nodded against his chest, trying to draw strength from his words, from his unwavering belief in her. Slowly, her sobs began to subside, her breathing evening out as the comfort of his embrace seeped into her bones. She knew this wasn’t going to be easy—nothing about this situation was—but she also knew that Eris was right. They had faced so much together already, and they had always come out on the other side, stronger and more united.

Eventually, her tears dried, leaving her feeling drained but also a little lighter. Eris continued to hold her, his hand gently stroking her back as he whispered reassurances into her hair.

"We’ll get through this," he said softly, his voice filled with conviction. "One day at a time, we’ll get through this."

Y/N took a deep breath, finally allowing herself to believe that they would. With Eris by her side, she knew she could face whatever challenges lay ahead. She wasn’t alone in this fight, and that made all the difference.

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da-rulah · 1 year ago

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Rituale Septem - Day 2: Sloth

Pairing: (Phantom x f!reader)

Summary: With one sin down, your focus is on day two; the sin of sloth. Terzo sends his Ghouls to take care of your every need, so you don't have to lift a finger...

Rating: Mature, MDNI 18+

Word Count: 7.3k

Warnings: Male masturbation, soft dom (f), m sub, sort of a servant dynamic (but fully consensual), fingering, grinding, p in v sex, pulling out

AO3 Link | Series Masterlist

A/N: So, I became a Ghost fan in July, which means I don't know anything about Terzo era Ghouls and would have struggled hugely to write them. I'm aware that Swiss and Dew/Sodo were very briefly on stage with Terzo? (I think?) or at least had silver masks with Cardinal Copia like they do in this fic, but Phantom wouldn't have. Just, for arguments sake, picture them as 'trainee Ghouls', and so have all got silver masks. Thanks. Love ya.

Prev: Day 1 - Lust | Next: Day 3 - Gluttony

Terzo didn’t sleep well that night.

You may have expected him to, spent and exhausted from your exploits together that afternoon but he was wide awake. His head swam with images of you, his cock thickening as he recounted the noises you’d made for him, the way you’d felt around him...

Perhaps it was the pent up lust that had built whilst you had teased each other mercilessly that made his attraction to you so strong – he assumed it would pass, a minor infatuation as he had had many times before. He simply liked how you had fought back against his own teasing and come ready to seduce him right back, giving him a taste of his own medicine.

This week of rituals with himself and whoever else was invited to play with you was the most fresh and exciting injection of vitality to his sex drive he noted in recent years. However, he knew that he couldn’t partake in every ritual each day of the week – he wasn’t the one who needed Lucifer’s guidance. That was you. He was simply a supporting role, but he did know that that first sin with you would not be his last this week.

With his cock hard and aching beneath the silk sheets of his bedding, he grumbled in frustration as his mind swam with more images of taking you as he wished, giving you as much pleasure as you could take before finally giving in himself. He found himself wanting nothing more than to please you, to give you what you needed, to help you.

Terzo’s bare hand snaked across his stomach, giving in to his needs and wrapping his fingers around the base of his solid length to pump himself in time with the footage replaying in his mind's eye of his deep thrusts inside you. He groaned and growled to himself in the darkness of his bedroom, blissfully recounting the memories of that afternoon.

“Ohh, Principessa...” he whispered into the night, climax building embarrassingly fast, but he couldn’t help himself. Within just a few minutes, he was releasing a hurried and powerful load onto the hair across the expanse of his chest.

‘Just an infatuation’, he told himself. ‘This, too, shall pass.’

October 26th

You had every intention of getting up on time. You really did. But when your alarm had sounded, you’d perhaps smashed the snooze button a little too hard and rolled over into another light sleep that became a rather deep sleep.

It was a pounding on your door that woke you – a strong knock, almost aggressive. You shot up from the bed in your nightdress, uncaring of your modesty when the only person you knew would be at your door knocking this angrily would be Secondo.

You were late for work, judging by the sunlight that crept through the cracks of your curtains, and the October chill in the air of your humble little living quarters sent a chill washing over you when you’d peeled your bedsheets back. The knocking persisted, aggressive and loud; only Secondo would be this angry at your tardiness.

As you reached the door that was still being pounded against by his angry fist, you stumbled and latched onto the handle, wrenching it open with a litany of apologies spilling frantically from your mouth. You were never late for Secondo. Just once was a potentially sackable offense.

“Sister, calm down. I’m not Secondo...”

When you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and actually looked at whoever was at the door, you realised that it indeed wasn’t Secondo at all. It was a ghoul, silver shining mask glinting as if just polished.

One of the newer ones, only a few weeks into his role and still in his training phase. And here you were in a satin nightdress that did nothing to hide your pebbled nipples in the cold air of your room – and even behind his mask, you didn’t miss the way his eyes flicked down and widened when he noticed. Heat spread across your face in embarrassment, and you hid yourself behind the door, head poking from around the corner to talk to the ghoul.

He shook his head as if to rid himself of the image before he continued.

“Sorry, uh... Phantom, Sister. I’ve been sent by Papa?” he seemed just as confused as you did.

“S-Secondo sent a ghoul for me?” Your stomach dropped, knowing that if he hadn’t come to get you himself it was because he was too busy to – because you weren’t there to help him with his workload. And he’d be more pissed than you imagined. “Shit!”

“Oh, no! Sorry, I’m not... I wasn’t sent by Secondo, but Papa Terzo. He asked me to give you this?” he reached into the pocket of his trousers and handed you an envelope addressed to ‘Principessa’; his crest embedded in the wax seal on the back. Butterflies rammed your stomach lining as if they themselves were trying to get to the letter in his hand. You took it from him and ripped into it anxiously...

Good morning, Principessa. Did you sleep well last night? I certainly did not. Too much on my mind after yesterday... Each time I shut my eyes expecting the usual black void, all I could see was purple... I suppose you could say, I had my hands full most of the night. Imagine a wink, here. I believe you will need your rest today, no? You seemed somewhat sleepy when I last saw you yesterday. I can’t imagine why... but I have arranged for you to have the day off. I have some rules for you to follow, however, and they MUST be followed. 1. You are not to lift a finger, all day. This includes walking, eating, drinking - anything. (I will only make exceptions for using the bathroom and breathing.) 2. Ghouls will be on hand to help you through the day. First, our newest Ghoul, Phantom, will be at your beck and call. Go easy on him, he’s a nuisance but he’s quite shy. 3. The Ghouls are there willingly to help you with ALL of your needs. They are consenting and on hand should you need... anything. 4. If you have any questions, you send them to me via. Ghoul. You do not leave your abode today, you stay put and enjoy your lazy day. Break my rules, and the ritual is over. I will come and see you when I get a spare moment this evening. Put my Ghouls to good use, Sorella. Papa Emeritus III

You looked over the cursive and furrowed your brows. His cheek shone through even in his handwriting, toying with you and clearly enjoying it. You did have to smirk a little that you’d made your way so far into his head that your choice of lingerie had haunted him as he’d tried to sleep. ‘Had my hands full most of the night’... Did he mean what you thought he meant?

“So... you’re like, waiting on me?” you asked Phantom, who stood patiently waiting at your threshold.

“I guess so. He told me to take care of every need that arose. I can't let you do anything yourself. He didn’t say why, but told me he’d send me to the ninth circle of hell for treachery if I failed...” he explained, scratching the back of his neck anxiously.

“Oh... he wouldn’t do that, Phantom. Just so you know,” you tried to reassure him.

“You didn’t see the look on his face...” he chuckled, absolutely no humour behind it. “Still, he gave me a choice and explained what today entailed. I agreed. So uh, anything you need, I’m at your service.”

You wondered if he had deliberately emphasised part of that on purpose, sounding somewhat suggestive... And then it dawned on you.

Papa was giving you an easy way to perform sin today.

Sloth.

“Well, I suppose you’d better come in then,” you smiled, opening the door and stepping away from it, modesty long forgotten. Phantom stepped inside, nervously ringing his hands and standing awkwardly in the cramped little living space between your couch and practically ancient TV set. You moved to sit on the couch, getting comfortable seeing as you were apparently confined to it for the day.

“C-can I get you anything, sister?” he asked, eager to please already.

“Uh... I haven’t had breakfast yet?”

“On it!” he hurried, trotting into your little kitchenette, fishing through your fridge and cupboard to pull together ingredients to make you something from scratch, while you flicked on the TV to some pretentious morning show and kept an eye on the ghoul making a mess and a racket in your kitchen.

Perhaps a day off, lounging around and not lifting a finger would be nice...

Secondo was positively seething as he stomped into Terzo’s office, not bothering to knock and ignoring Sister Christine’s attempts to stall or calm him.

“Ah, come on in, fratello,” Terzo invited with sarcasm dripping from every word and a smug smile on his painted face.

“You gave my assistant the day off?! What right do you have? Do you know how much work I have to do?” he yelled, slamming his fist down on Terzo’s desk. “I think your title is going to your testone, fratellino (fat head, little brother)...”

Terzo’s smug smile vanished and a look of vague annoyance took over as he rose from his chair, readying for confrontation.

“And you seem to forget you lost yours,” he taunted. Secondo’s eyes widened before he grabbed the collar of his brother's shirt, pulling him far enough over the desk he could headbutt him if the need arose.

“Attento a come parli (watch your mouth),” he warned through grit teeth. He pushed Terzo back and took a step away from the desk. “Sister ____ is my staff. You had no authority!”

“Actually, I think you’ll find I do. I’m sure you’ll manage a singular day without her.”

Secondo knew there was no use in arguing with his brother, both ridiculously stubborn men in their own right. He huffed and turned to leave, shoes clacking loudly on the stone flooring.

“You work her too hard, fratello mio...” Terzo smirked. Secondo span on his heels, chewing the inside of his cheek to stop an onslaught of abuse from spilling from him like word vomit.

“Me?! You insolent little shit. I’m sure you worked her harder than necessary yesterday,” he accused. “What, is she your next little fixation? Your new little prediletta (favourite)?”

He couldn’t explain why, but Secondo’s insinuation that you were just another notch on his bedpost annoyed him more than being interrupted and screamed at in the first place. Sure, he had a reputation as a ladies’ man – and a man’s man too, for that matter – but perhaps it was merely Secondo’s tone that bothered him.

“Perhaps, before you judge, you would care to ask why your assistant is suddenly spending time with me after very little interaction at all in the past sixteen years since she took her vows, hm?”

Secondo laughed bitterly. “Please, do enlighten me!”

Terzo stalled for a moment – he wasn’t sure you wanted anybody else knowing, much less your boss. But if he was being this much trouble on day two of the seven, he could get in the way and ruin your chances at completing the ritual at all. If Secondo knew, perhaps he would step back, and allow you your chance to find yourself at the end of these seven days...

“She is performing a ritual. A very intense and laborious ritual. It takes place over seven days, and it must happen now, before All Hallow’s Eve.”

Secondo’s brow furrowed and his eyes squinted in suspicion, curiously searching the archives in his mind full of rituals and spells he had learned over the years. And then it dawned on him...

“Rituale Septem?” he barely whispered the name, shocked you would even attempt such a thing. He didn’t think you the type to be comfortable with such an extensive and invasive ritual. “Why would she need to speak with The Dark One?”

“She feels lost, fratello. I’m trying to guide my flock back onto a path she is able to see for herself. Do you understand?”

“Are you telling me she... is experiencing doubts?” For the first time in Satan knew how many years, Terzo saw hurt flash across his brother’s face. His hardened exterior was always a mask, that much was true, but the mention that perhaps the closest person he had to a friend in the ministry was doubting her position, doubting her faith... it stung him, and his mask slipped for just a moment.

“It’s not personal, Secondo. We mustn’t take it as such. But yes, she is doubting Him. Is it not my job to attempt whatever necessary when she is so desperate to hear His voice?”

Secondo thought for a moment, slowly sitting down in one of the chairs in front of Terzo’s desk.

“Sì, sì... Non ne avevo idea (I had no idea)…" he sighed. “Why would she not feel she could come to me?” His genuine confusion and disappointment were clear in his voice. He knew his rituals so well, had the deepest knowledge of anyone in the Ministry. He could have helped you, surely?

“Fratello, I mean no disrespect when I say this but... you are not the most emotionally available man to open up to, se sai cosa voglio dire (if you know what I mean). I believe she was worried you would be angry at her for her doubts,” Terzo explained, a gentility to his voice. He knew you meant more to Secondo than simply an employee. You don't work side by side with someone for six years and not develop some form of relationship.

Secondo’s mind ticked over, before he settled upon understanding rather than jumping straight into defensiveness. As much as he would like to, he couldn’t argue with that. Instead, he conceded, wanting nothing more than to help in any way he could.

“What do you need from me?” His head snapped up to look at Terzo who stood watching in amazement at his change in demeanour.

“Your co-operation,” he pleaded. “Today I’ve planned sloth for her. She must stay home and not lift a finger all day.”

“Concordato (agreed). Anything else?”

Terzo thought for a moment, going over the plans he had made for the week ahead to see if there was indeed anything Secondo could do.

“Actually, sì... There is perhaps one particular sin you would be very useful for...”

Your morning was, indeed, as lazy as Papa had intended for you. Phantom took three attempts to make an edible batch of pancakes since he categorically said no to every time you went to move from the couch and help him. He was right, of course. You had to stay put, but it wasn’t natural for you and it took fighting every natural instinct in your body not to help or tend to your needs yourself.

He’d done everything for you that morning, carrying you if you needed to walk, spoon-feeding you like a roman emperor (although you’re sure Julius Caesar didn’t have to sit through three rounds of ‘here comes the choo-choo train’). It felt wrong, but wasn’t that entirely the point? Sinning.

But you hadn’t expected it to feel so icky – icky being the only word appropriate for how the feeling of lording over someone as your servant made you feel a little drunk with power. And with Phantom so eager to please, running here, there and everywhere for you, you were fighting hard not to let the power go to your head.

As the morning dragged on, you became increasingly aware of the fact he was here to tend to any need you had, mulling over how he had made it abundantly clear that he was here and willing. Well, you could tell that in his eagerness to please, rushing to your side whenever you needed something and going above and beyond to make you comfortable. He was being a good little servant, and a part of you was ready to test the waters, so to speak...

“Phantom, would you do something for me?” you asked, to which his masked head snapped to you from where he sat watching daytime TV with you, and he nodded fervently. “I... could do with a bath... would you mind running one for me?”

Even behind the silver eye holes you saw enough to see his eyes widen. “S-sure, yeah... Bubbles and stuff?” he asked.

“Hmm,” you hummed, eyes fluttering closed as you imagined the warmth of aromatic waters submerging you, “please...”

When you looked, Phantom’s jaw had gone slack, and the poor Ghoul was staring intently at you. He jumped up with a startling speed with a “yes, sister!” and scurried off into your bathroom where you heard the faucets squeaking in protest and a heavy flow of water hitting the tub’s surface. You smirked a little at his enthusiasm, playing with the lace hem of your nightdress you were yet to change out of. You watched in delight as he scurried in and out of your little apartment gathering supplies you didn’t have to hand from Papa Primo’s gardens and the store cupboards near the chapel.

It took him 20 minutes before he was satisfied with the bath he’d drawn for you, stepping out of the bathroom and stopping in the doorway to announce it was ready. You began to stand, only to have him on his knees in front of you in a flash with a scream of “No! No...” and hands on your bare knees. He looked down at where his flesh had come into contact with your own and jumped back a little in shock.

“I mean, I’ll... I have to carry you.”

“Oh, of course. Silly me,” you smiled sweetly, as if this wasn’t exactly your plan – a power play. Because whether you saw it yet, or not, being waited on hand and foot, treated with respect that verged on worship was beginning to go to your head a little.

He slipped his arms under your knees, the other around your back and lifted you effortlessly bridal style, carrying you to the bathroom where he sat you on the edge of the tub. Frankly, you couldn’t believe the effort he’d gone to...

From Papa Primo’s stores, the water was filled with aromatic flowers and oils, bubbles stacked high at one end as steam rose from the surface. From the chapel’s store cupboards, the room was alight with black candles on every available surface, a soft warm glow flickering around the small room.

“I’ll um, let you... undress,” he nodded shyly as your nightgown and stood, turning his back to you and averting his gaze from the steamed mirror for good measure. But you had other ideas...

“Phantooooom,” you whined, “I don’t think I can. I’m not supposed to do anything today...”

You saw his shoulders rise and fall in a deep breath, as if he were doing his best to remain composed, before he slowly turned around and nodded. He stepped towards you, hands trembling a little, as he knelt and began to push the hem of your nightdress up your thighs slowly. He seemed to be savouring the moment a little, maybe it was just nerves, but you could see him bite his lip the higher the satin rose.

As it grazed over your hips, lifting up past your ass with a bit of a shuffle from you, you could hear the way he gulped, eyes trained on the skimpy panties you had underneath. His anguish only got worse when lifting higher, your bare breasts were exposed before him, and you raised your arms to allow him to easily remove the nightdress completely.

You smiled at him softly, waiting for him to continue and giving him the green light to do so. He exhaled a breath he’d been holding, fingers curling into the hem of your panties at your hips where he began to drag them down your thighs. He refused to look at where he’d now exposed, a blush spreading across his face that he was grateful was hidden by his mask. He felt a sense of shame for being even remotely turned on by this, but the shame was so exciting. For him, and for you...

To save him a little from combusting and leaving scorch marks on your bathroom floor, you crossed your legs in what could be considered a very seductive looking pose, and ran your fingers through the water behind you with a soft hum.

“Is...is the temperature okay?” he asked, strictly looking only at your face and your face alone.

“Perfect, thank you, Phantom,” you reached your dry hand to pinch gently and affectionately at his exposed chin. “Would you mind?”

He shook his head, again moving to roll his shirt sleeves up his arms and lifting you bridal style, gently lowering you into the water. As you sank into the water in his arms, you let a satisfied little moan slip from your lips, and felt the way his arms tensed. Now fully bathed, he stood and wiped his forearms on a towel and went to exit the room, leaving you with privacy and giving him a chance to calm down and uh... soften up.

So, when you stopped him, and asked him to sit with you because you “wanted someone to talk to”, he inwardly groaned and agreed. He was trying so desperately to avoid temptation, to only act on requests as Papa had told him to do.

“You only do the things she asks of you, Phantom. You do not try to seduce her, hai capito? (understand)? You do not make any moves. You let her come to you, if she wishes. You respect her wishes, sì?”

Of course, he’d respect your wishes. He would never do anything untoward, never push you or attempt to guide you to him. He was very much aware you held the power today and if he was being honest, he much preferred it that way.

But you were making it so hard for him to remain professional when all he wanted was to beg and plead for you to let him take care of you.

Especially when you asked him to wash you.

He found himself on his knees beside the tub, carefully and slowly scrubbing at the expanse of your chest, watching the suds wash away and the shine of the water glinting in the candlelight on your skin. It was hypnotising, and your little moans of bliss were killing him slowly, like hands squeezing the life out him by the neck.

You slipped down further into the tub, your legs bent and parting to make way for him to trail the washcloth between your thighs where a heat was blooming aside from the warmth of the water. He got the message, averting his eyes and running the washcloth over your core gently. You moaned again, this time a little louder at the pressure to where you needed it. Before he knew what he was doing, he was moaning too at the sound and the strain in his pants.

His eyes shot open and his head snapped to stare at you, hand clutching the washcloth stilling in shock and fear.

“I-I... Sister, I... I’m so sorr-” he began to apologise frantically, his hand started to retreat until you grabbed his wrist and stilled him.

“Do you want to stop?” you asked him honestly, giving him an option to back out now if he wished.

He shook his head. “I... want to please,” he admitted.

Slowly, you let go of his wrist, laying back against the tub with eyes trained on his. Gradually his hand resumed, dragging the washcloth between your legs and sending a wave of pleasure through your body. You arched your back a little, eyes closing and lips parting.

His movements remained slow, deliberate. He watched your face contort and your body writhe as the sensations built. On his knees, his own hips began to buck in search of some sort of pressure against his hidden erection. His spare hand groped and squeezed at himself, little grunts sounding every so often that made your lips quirk up into a smirk.

“D-does it... feel okay?” he asked. The poor Ghoul beside the tub was struggling, and when you opened your eyes to look at him, a pang of lust speared its way through your chest.

His lips were reddened and swollen, paint long gone from where he’d been biting at them. You could see his arm moving, but not where, and you drew your own conclusion that Phantom was in fact touching himself.

“It feels amazing...” you purred, reaching a hand out to trace the metal of his mask down to his exposed chin, fingers wet and warm with bath water. “You’re doing so good, Phantom.”

The whimper that came from the man in front of you was pathetic, but it made your walls clench around nothing. He liked that.

Only then did you realise the details of the events leading to now. He wanted to please you, to bow to your every whim. He was whimpering just at making you feel good, and when you praised him? If that whimper was anything to go by, in tandem with the way his hips bucked into his own grasp, this was a man who liked being powerless to you.

He liked being your servant.

“Will you use your fingers, Phantom? I need more...” you asked.

“Wh-whatever you need, sister...” He let go of the washcloth immediately, letting it float to the surface of the bath to be replaced by his fingers heading straight for your clit. You gasped at the contact, finally feeling the pressure you needed where he’d worked you up.

The hand on his groin grasped his hard on tightly, staving off a premature climax that would surely embarrass him.

His fingers circled your bundle of nerves with fervour, desperate to please and have you come undone. Ripples of ecstasy flowed through your body, moans and whines spilling freely from you. It was music to his ears, hearing how good he was making you feel.

“I-inside, Phantom. Please,” you begged, parting your legs as wide as you could for him. He growled, the hand on his crotch gripping the edge of the bathtub as he leaned over you, dipping his fingers through your folds before easily slipping two inside of you. You cried out, feeling full and immediately alive with electricity jolting through your veins.

You gripped onto the collar of his shirt, pulling him further over you as you writhed under him. His fingers curled and fucked into your heat, hitting where you needed him most.

“Shit, just like that...” His movements weren’t particularly gentle, but the aggression wasn’t just pure aggression, but desperation. How badly he wanted to give you the pleasure you sought...

When you looked over at him, you could see his hips bucking against nothing, hopelessly rutting into the air for any friction he could muster. From what you could see of his face, he looked wrecked. His lips were curled back over his teeth which grit together at the strain, his eyes wide and watery as if he would cry if you ever made him stop now.

You felt sorry for him, chasing a high he wouldn’t get so long as he continued to fuck into the air like this. And who were you to deny him the same pleasure he was so eager to give you?

“Ph-Phantom... look at me,” you tugged once at his collar, his eyes finding yours but hand never slowing. He could have cum just from the fucked out look on your face alone. “Will you... will you fuck me?” you asked breathlessly.

His fingers rammed into you harder at the thought and you screamed out, pulling him towards you, your forehead clashing with the forehead of his mask. You stared darkly into his eyes.

“If you want me to...” he growled, “Sathanas, tell me you want me to...” he begged.

You pushed his arm away from your cunt and sat up onto your knees before leaning over the opposite end of the bathtub and arching your back, giving him an eyeful of your exposed cunt glistening in the candlelight as the bathwater sloshed and lapped at your skin.

“Fuck me, Phantom...” you instructed. In a flash, the Ghoul stood and leapt into the tub, water and flower petals spilling over the sides and splashing to the floor. He was too far gone, too fucking desperate to even think about removing his clothes or boots and he cursed to himself when he realised what he’d done, but made no moves to rectify it – it was too late for that anyway.

Instead, he knelt and unzipped the fly of his pants, pushed his suspenders off his shoulders and pushed them down with his underwear just enough for his length to spring free. He took a deep breath, steadying himself and slowly ran the head of his cock through your folds. His free hand came to rest on your hips, gently squeezing the flesh there and stroking his thumb over the skin.

You waited patiently, letting him enjoy the moment as you relaxed in his hold, leaning lazily over the edge of the tub with your head on your arms. Slowly, he pushed himself inside you, a cracked groan leaving his throat with each inch that sank into you. Somehow, you felt warmer and wetter than the bathwater that surrounded his legs – and it felt glorious.

His thrusts began slow, savouring the feeling as whimpers and shudders shook his body behind you. He got lost in his own pleasure for a moment before remembering you were his prime concern, your pleasure more important that his own. He wanted to be good for you, for you to tell him he was being good for you again.

“Is this... oh fuck, is this okay?” he asked as he set his pace, fishing for compliments. He sounded like he was pleading with you, needily pleading for affirmations.

“So good, Phantom... Such a good boy for me, hm?”

The noise that erupted from the Ghoul behind you shocked even you, an involuntary cry that sparked him to rut his hips against you until the water around him splashed and sloshed around the pair of you, the sounds of wet skin slapping together ricocheting off the tiled walls of your bathroom. His pace was unforgiving, slamming over and over again into your g-spot and forcing cry after cry of pleasure to erupt from within you.

His hand reached around you, coming to sit between your thighs as his fingers worked your clit, his chest – still covered by his now soaked shirt – resting against your back. Coupling Phantom’s hard work with the feeling of the warmth of the water and the aromatic floral scents you felt like you’d reached a type of bliss you’d only ever read about. Your eyes fluttered shut, teeth biting into the flesh of your arm where you lay on it to quiet your moans.

Before long the heat in your abdomen grew, coil winding tightly and dangling you on the edge of climax while his cock and fingers worked so hard to tip you over. All you needed was a little bit of extra help – you needed to know what Phantom was thinking.

“H-how does it feel, sweetie?” you asked him in your most condescending voice you could muster while he pounded into you. You felt his hand on your hip squeeze your flesh hard.

“So good... you feel so good, sister.”

“You’re being so good, Phantom. My good boy, hm?” you praised.

“F-fuck, yes... your good boy. I’m... I’m your good boy,” he whined, affected by your praise more than you could have imagined.

“Are you... gonna... make me cum, sweetie?”

“Uh-huh... Yes, ma’am. Want you to cum so bad,” he admitted, “need it!” You were getting so close, that familiar feeling now right on the cusp of snapping.

“What do you say then, sweetie?” you asked, hoping he’d catch on. And in his current state, his mind bent and broken and filled with nothing but his need to push you into climax before he could, he didn’t need to think. His answer was instinctual.

“Please!” he yelled, “Please cum for me... N-need to feel you, need it... Please!”

It was all you needed to send you into a spiral, the coil snapping and springing free as your orgasm washed over you faster than the sloshing water. Your walls tightened around him, cunt squeezing him so hard it was almost impossible to keep up his pace. Your pussy gushed around him, only noticeable in the rocky water by the sheer amount of it when the waves would subside before crashing against your skin with another thrust.

Phantom lost his mind behind you, biting into his lip and doing his very best to keep up with you, fingers attacking your slit still while he slammed against you. The fog that had overtaken your mind as you came began to clear, the aftershocks powerful still with the way he continued to now chase his own release.

“Y-your turn now, sweetie,” you coached him through it, giving him the encouragement he’d need to reach his own end now you were fully satiated. When you looked back at him, he looked like he was in pain, the way his eyes were screwed shut and his teeth were bared. “Will you cum for me?”

“Fuck, can I, ma’am?” he asked, unable to look at you as he continued his thrusts.

“Yes...”

"Thank you, ma’am!” he roared, pulling his cock out from where he’d been buried inside you and jerking himself once, twice before spilling his load on the third across the swell of your ass. He fell over you, slipping from his position on his knees and relying on his arms to prop him up on the bathtub to stop him collapsing on top of you.

The two of you stayed there for a moment, panting, trying to shake off the exhaustion. The water around you both calmed, gentle waves much lower than the water level had been when he’d lowered you into it...

Eventually, you turned to lay on your back under him, letting the water cover your body but hiding nothing from him now that the bubbles had disappeared. You smiled up at him lazily, tired and satisfied.

Phantom looked up and around him, then down at his soaked clothes and softening length. He started laughing, shaking his head in disbelief at his own stupidity. You joined him, pulling at the loose suspenders still clipped to the jeans that clung to his thighs as you laughed.

Eventually he had climbed out of the tub, ringing out his clothes as best he could with them still clinging to him, and wrapped himself in a towel as he concealed himself. Without a change of clothes to hand, he’d have to remain damp.

He carried you from the tub to your bedroom, clad in a towel yourself and helped you dry off, giving you a new set of loungewear to wear that wasn’t quite as tempting as your previous outfit – there was only so much he could take in one day – and carried you back to the living room, dampening you slightly again with his clothes.

Just as he’d sat you down, there was a knock at the door. He moved to open it for you as you sat back and relaxed, revealing another two of the Ghouls in training, slightly more experienced than Phantom; Dewdrop and Swiss.

Swiss cocked his head in confusion, looking Phantom up and down as he took in the clothes that still clung to him.

“What the fuck happened to you?” he asked him, Dewdrop snickering and looking around him to wave at you. You waved back sheepishly, suddenly embarrassed that you’d have to explain... this.

“I, um... fell in the bath,” he lied, scratching the back of his neck. “Actually, it’s still kind of a mess, I should, um... clean up the water,” he said, excusing himself to go mop up the excess water from the floor and return your bathroom to a somewhat untouched state.

“Yeah, you go do that...” Swiss laughed, patting his wet shoulder as he left and stepping inside your apartment with Dewdrop close behind. “How are you, sister?”

“Uh, yeah good. Relaxed,” you smiled at him as he sat beside you, Dewdrop hovering silently still after shutting your door. From the few weeks these newer Ghouls had been at the ministry, you’d spent a little more time around Swiss. He could do a bit of everything, and you often found him in places you were during your working hours, fetching things for Secondo.

“I bet you are,” Swiss teased, looking to where the bathroom door lay open, candlelight still flickering. “Did we miss the fun?” Phantom’s head shot up from where he’d been mopping the floor and slammed the door shut with a swift kick. Swiss just laughed.

“Well, I can’t deny we’re disappointed, Sister. I had hoped maybe he’d have saved a little of you for us,” he motioned to Dewdrop with a nod of his head, “but hey, if there’s anything we can do for you, we’re here. Papa was very clear in his instructions,” he shrugged, sitting back against the couch cushions.

“Nothing right now, thanks. Just some trash TV,” you chuckled awkwardly.

“Say no more,” Swiss snapped his fingers at Dewdrop who rolled his eyes and darted into your bedroom, coming back with a blanket and spare pillow for you to cosy yourself up with. He sat on the floor between you and Swiss, back against the couch.

The day continued much like this. Phantom returned your bathroom to normality then sat himself on a chair in the corner, shy and embarrassed by Swiss’ constant teasing. You binge watched pointless shows and allowed Dewdrop to give you a foot massage, while Swiss worked some form of Black Magic in the kitchen to make the most artery-clogging, delicious ‘lazy-day extravaganza’ as he had put it. Finding yourself full of disgustingly good food and exhausted from the day, you easily drifted to sleep on the couch against Swiss’ shoulder.

Terzo had no idea what he would find when he knocked on your door that evening. Had his Ghouls done as asked? Had you wanted them to go as far as to please the Dark One and help you revel in sin past the laziness of being waited on?

He was more than willing to step in if he had to; hoped for it, even. You’d been on his mind all fucking day, elements of your afternoon in his office replaying in his mind like a roll of film stuck in a projector. He wanted you again, couldn’t think of anything else as he’d tried so damn hard to get something, anything, done today.

His knuckles rasped on your door sometime after 8pm, after his final meeting when he could finally scuttle off to find you. Dewdrop answered the door, bowing silently to his Papa and stepping aside to let him in. What he found, was Swiss laying out across the couch, Dewdrop moving to sit on the floor where he’d been all afternoon, and Phantom sat in a chair in the corner, unable to look him in the eye and shivering as if he were cold.

And... was he damp?

But you were nowhere in sight.

“Where is Sorella _____?” he asked them. Swiss, who didn’t look up from the TV in front of him, answered.

“Her bedroom, Papa. She was, uh...” he looked behind him at Phantom, who’s head hung in shame and arms crossed over his chest to make himself smaller, “quite exhausted after her bath today.” The smile on Swiss’ face – a shit-eating grin of straight lips and pearly teeth – as he looked at Papa told him enough.

“You didn't think to undress yourself first, Ghoul?” he smirked, scoffing a little. Phantom stayed silent, humiliated. “Go, change. You’re shivering, stupido (stupid [playful]).”

Phantom stood from the chair nodding, his damp jeans squeaking and sodden boots squelching and rushed past Papa in the doorway, closing the door behind him. Terzo couldn’t really blame him – he'd dive headfirst into a pit of boiling tar if it meant getting to spend another night wrapped up in you.

In fact, he found himself incredibly disappointed that he wouldn’t get to revel in sin with you today, to let you lazily use him for your own pleasures as he had hoped tonight. He had instructed his Ghouls to take care of your needs, of course, but knowing that they had stirred up a small dose of an ugly emotion in him. Still, there were plenty more opportunities to explore that pleasure with you in the coming days, and he forced himself to think nothing more on the matter.

Terzo made his way over to your bedroom door, quietly letting himself in and shutting it behind him. Your room was dark, dimly lit by a small lamp in the corner of the room. His eyes adjusted, and he saw you curled up in a ball under the covers, chest rising and falling softly as you slept. He smiled to himself, moving to sit at the edge of your bed, watching you in peace for a moment.

Quietly, he removed the glove from his right hand, using his now bare fingers to gently move a strand of hair from your face and tuck it back, wanting nothing to obstruct your pretty face from him. Despite his gentility, you stirred with a soft hum and opened your eyes.

“Papa?” you whispered, squinting at him in the darkness.

“Buonasera, Principessa, (Good evening, Princess,)” he smiled, “I trust you have done absolutely niente (nothing) all day, sì?”

You nodded sleepily, “Wasn’t allowed to walk two steps to go to the bathroom.” He chuckled at your incredulous tone – he figured someone as hard-working and self-sufficient as you would have trouble with today’s sin.

“I hear you don’t need my help this evening, either?” he teased, his hand – which you hadn’t even registered was gloveless – pushed your hair back again. You were grateful for the darkness, hiding the blush forming on your cheeks. “Phantom was still damp when I arrived. Did that idiota really jump in clothed?” he laughed softly.

You hid your face in your pillow, shy and flustered. “He was a bit excited...” you admitted, muffled by your pillow. Terzo cackled at that.

“I can’t blame him...” he shrugged. “I shall leave you to sleep then, hm? Go cross Sloth off our little list?”

You turned your head back, getting comfortable and ready to drift into sleep again. “Should I go back to work tomorrow?” you asked, stifling a yawn.

“Please. I don’t think Secondo would allow me to keep all of my limbs if you didn’t show again...” he laughed, “but would you join me for dinner tomorrow, Principessa?”

“Of course, Papa,” you agreed, already looking forward to spending more time with him.

“Bene (good). Around 7:30pm, my quarters.” He stroked your hair as your eyes drifted closed, sitting with you as the claws of sleep dug themselves firmly back into you. “Buona notte, cara mia... (Goodnight, my dear...)” he whispered.

The last thing you remembered before darkness took over, was the vague feeling of soft, pillowy lips pressing to your cheek.

Prev: Day 1 - Lust | Next: Day 3 - Gluttony

A huge thank you to @her-satanic-wiles for beta reading, and @adinferix for fine tuning the Italian translations! 🖤

Tag list:

@call-me-little-sunshine84 @thew0man @zombiesnips-blog @ghuleh-recs @popiaswife @anamelessfool @enchantedbunny @haelithra @aslutforgreyhair @togetherasone @lilylovesdew @copias-sewer-rat @copiaspet622 @deetz-ghuleh @loudwombatmugkid @nimbusghoul @portaltothevoid @adinferix @angellayercake @sodoswitchimage @siouxbauhaus @lydz1977-blog @bitchywitchygardener @sacrificialsake @the-did-i-ask @ghostfangirlsweden @the-hole-in-terzos-shoe @copiasprincipessa @gothicwonderlust @ladymer @ghulehunknown @onlyhereforghost @solluna00 @nijiru

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just-an-elf-with-the-socks · 4 months ago

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This is part of a Barduil WIP I’m currently working on but here’s an important scene between Elrond and Thranduil. I came up with this while pressure washing my driveway and glancing at the stars.

Thranduil sat on one of the many stone benches in his personal garden. The night sky was clear, not a cloud covering its wondrous beauty. Yet Thranduil felt a weight in his heart that prevented him from admiring it. It had always been there, that he knew and felt rather heavily.

Lately, however, it seemed to be sinking deeper inside him. Thranduil clenched his fist, no matter how weak his grip was. The weight was a looming beast, creeping over his shoulder as if it were a bloodthirsty spider. Perhaps the worst part was that the beast was perilously close to catching its prey.

It said something of his internal torment that Thranduil did not hear the footsteps approaching him. While the realization was a belated one, Thranduil knew exactly who was behind him. He refused to sigh at the unfortunate conversation that he would have to endure.

“It is getting worse.”

Thranduil did not turn in the direction of his guest. “If that is the most useful piece of information you can provide I suggest you see your way out.”

The voice turned stern. “I did not come here on such short notice to suffer your attitude. I came at the request of Galion-“

Thranduil stiffened, furious. “Galion. It seems I cannot even trust my closest friend.”

“Cease with the dramatics. You would have waited for my guidance until it was far too late; perhaps you would never have bothered. In the face-“

“Your guidance is but a nuisance. I no longer need your assistance or support. I wish you well in health and peace as you depart.”

The figure finally stepped in front of him, radiating anger. Elrond’s eyes sparked with frustration and a hint of despair. “You will die, Thranduil. There is not a way out of this I can see if you do not let me help you.”

Thranduil stood, refusing to give Elrond the high ground. “There are many other elves, honorable elves, that deserve your care. You should be dedicating your time to those who have hope for a future.”

Elrond shook his head. “You are a fool, Thranduil. You would have a future just the same if you let yourself live.”

The Elvenking’s chest ached with longing for a fantasy that was just that; a childish fantasy. “You are the fool if you think yourself gifted enough to save one so past his point of return.”

It was the wrong to say, utterly cruel and ignorant. Yet that was who Thranduil was; what he always had been.

He thought he saw Elrond’s lips tremble just slightly, his gaze flashing with hurt for just a moment. “You have been my friend for many millennia. I know you far better than you know yourself, Thranduil. You have always thought so lowly of yourself, yet to see you so injured…it is painful.”

Thranduil did not know what to do other than to collapse onto the stone bench once more. He would hurt Elrond when he was simply trying to help. It was truly all he was good at.

He barely acknowledged Elrond sitting beside him, the fight draining from him as well. Thranduil looked up at the sky once more, this time lost in the constellations he’d memorized as a child.

“Elrond?”

“Yes?”

“This may seem like quite an inane question, but…have you ever thought about the brightest stars in the sky?”

Elrond looked puzzled. “I can’t say that I have.”

Thranduil sighed inelegantly. “The most brilliant stars are the ones that are dying. Their death is so explosive that they shine for centuries beyond it, their legacy far greater than what they once were.”

“Thranduil-“

“That is all I want, Elrond. Hope caresses the horizon with my departure. I only wish that it gives itself to my son.”

Elrond was silent for a moment before he spoke. “I do not pretend to ever understand you, and that is on a good day. Here, however, I think I finally do.”

Neither said a word for every hour following. Not even when each star blinked out of sight in the morning glow.

#lotr #lord of the rings #the hobbit #thranduil #elrond

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merganalogy · 6 months ago

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Part 5

Parts 1 2 3 4 5 6 7

This one takes place in the 60s (Part 2)

“I got what I deserved?” Morgana echoed, her voice trembling with disbelief. “I deserved to be lied to, betrayed, and killed by someone I once trusted with my deepest secret?”

Merlin remained silent, refusing to meet her gaze. Morgana pressed on, her resolve unwavering. “It wasn’t just my secret, Merlin. I trusted you with my life.” Her voice quivered. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I wanted to,” His confession came softly. “From the moment I knew you had magic, it was all I wanted to do.”

“Why didn’t you?” Morgana’s voice rose. "We could have supported each other. Eased the burden of our secret together.” She hesitated, then added, “Perhaps I wouldn’t have turned to Morgause.”

If only that was easy.

A feeling, a mix of anxiety and relief washed over him as he prepared to unburden himself from the weight of his secrets.

Merlin’s nod was barely perceptible. "When I arrived in Camelot, like you, I knew nothing of magic. Not until I received Gaius' teaching and Kilgharrah's guidance." He paused, his next words caught in his throat. His gaze dropped to the floor, and he took a deep breath, clearly wrestling with the decision to speak. "I trusted them with my life. So when they warned against revealing my magic to you, I listened.”

“You shouldn’t have.”

The air between them crackled with unspoken emotions, the tension palpable.

"The worst part is, I didn't always listen." Merlin admitted. "I knew Mordred was destined to kill Arthur ever since we first met him, despite that knowledge, I still saved his life, and it cost Arthur his."

Her eyes widened, her mouth slightly agape as she stared at him in utter disbelief. The news was too shocking to comprehend, too surreal to accept. "You knew?"

“Kilgharrah foresaw much,” Merlin replied. “Including your path toward darkness. Camelot’s true enemy was never Uther—it was you. Lives could have been spared if I’d heeded his warnings.”

“But not mine.” A heavy sigh escaped her lips, carrying the weight of her disappointment. It was as if the air itself had grown heavy with unmet expectations.

"You, more than anyone, ought to grasp the ease with which your demise could have been accomplished." He instantly noticed how her brows furrowed, "If we are here today, it is because I disregard his counsel. I adamantly refused to acknowledge the potential for malevolence within you, as I held firm to the belief in your inherent goodness." He drew a deep breath, his voice heavy with resignation. "Yet, your actions have validated his warnings. You've obliterated entire lineages, laid waste to kingdoms, and snuffed out countless innocent lives. For what purpose?"

"You had those who cautioned you, whereas I had Morgause." A storm brewing behind her eyes as frustration began to simmer beneath the surface. "She exposed me to the true horrors of our world, the injustices inflicted upon our people by Uther and the likes of him. They needed to be halted."

"By seizing control of Camelot?"

"Uther's reign had to end, and though you may protest, Arthur was his father's son. What other recourse did I have, Merlin? To remain subservient and obedient, as you did? Clearly, that path led to naught but disappointment. You never trusted Arthur—"

"Because of you." How could she fail to see it? "Magic is merely a tool, neither inherently good nor evil. Its use determines its nature. Arthur needed to understand that. But how could he comprehend this, with you are embodying his father's teachings? Magic was evil, and you have only confirmed Uther's beliefs."

"I acted as I believed right at the time—"

“Don’t justify what you have done. You were no child Morgana, you should have known better. Done better.”

“You poisoned me.”

Ah, of course she would throw that back at him.

"Then direct your anger toward me alone," he bellowed. "But you cannot justify the slaughter of innocents—"

"You destroyed me that day, Merlin," her voice fractured. "I loved you, and you ruined me. Magic did not corrupt me, Merlin. You did."

Her revelation struck him like a physical blow, stealing the very breath from his lungs. She regarded him, awaiting. But there was nothing that he could offer her back.

She loved him?

Should he believe her?

His heart pounded deafeningly, drowning out his thoughts. All he managed was, "How unfortunate."

It felt as though they had been transported back to the throne room, the weight of their shared history hanging heavy in the air. The intensity of her gaze mirrored that fateful moment, as if the passage of time had dissolved, leaving only the raw emotion between them.

He had just poisoned her all over again.

In her eyes, he glimpsed a reflection of the betrayal and hurt that had marked their past, a silent acknowledgment of the wounds they had inflicted upon each other. It was a poignant reminder of how far they had come, and how much they had lost along the way.

"Indeed, it is," she sniffed. "Goodbye, Merlin."

From this list, send me a prompt if you’d like.

#mergana #merlin x morgana #mergana fic #should i continue with is #I didn't mean for this part to be this long #sadly #we don't have katie in the 80s or 90s #if i am going to continue this we are jumping another half a decade #did i say how sorry i am for the long chapter #don't hate me

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tabitha42 · 6 months ago

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The Wizard's Apprentice - Chapter 14

Saffron is just a lowly apprentice with barely a successful firebolt to her name. So what chance does she have with the arch mage she's slowly falling in love with?

Gale x Tav, slow burn, eventual smut

Chapter 1 Previous chapter Next chapter

Saff wasn’t looking forward to the prospect of crawling through a tiny crevasse to escape, but she certainly agreed it was better than facing more goblins.

Gale stood up and offered her a hand. She gladly took it, making sure to put her weight on her good leg as she stood up. As much as she wanted him to carry her, he wouldn’t be able to do that through this tunnel, and she could tell he was still feeling weak himself.

“I think I can walk, with a bit of help,” she said. Gale nodded and let her put her arm round his shoulders while he held her waist, keeping her steady and letting her lean her weight on him when she needed to.

Slowly they followed the others out. Gale held her carefully as she limped her way through the temple, but it was very clear this wasn’t a set up they’d be able to do forever. Moving her leg, even if the weight wasn’t on it, was painful. He had half a mind to actually try to pick her up and carry her to this tunnel, but before it went far enough for him to resort to that, they reached it.

“You’re… sure we can all fit through that?” Gale asked sceptically as he looked at the narrow passageway through a crack in the rocks.

“I’ll go first,” Karlach offered. “If I can fit through, you all can.”

“I certainly cannot, but I will take the form of a rat again. I will also scout it out before you all enter, ensure there’s still no danger on the other side,” Halsin said, then turned to Saff. “Do you think you’ll be able to get through with your leg?” he asked her.

Saff looked into the crevice. A deep, dark passageway that led down into blackness… it was like staring into the abyss. Even if her leg was fine she wouldn’t want to do it, but she knew if there were any other options they’d have suggested them.

“I’ll manage,” she said quietly. She could hold onto the walls to keep the pressure off her leg. It would be fine… right…?

The group could hear her uncertainty. Gale in particular wanted to object, but like the others, he knew they had little choice. It was better than fighting another horde of goblins - a fight they would surely lose.

“Then I shall head in. I will be back soon,” Halsin said, then transformed once more and disappeared into the crevice.

“Where does it come out?” Gale asked, peering into the darkness.

“Halsin said it came out in the forest,” Wyll answered, “far away from any goblins.”

“Perfect if we can fit through then,” he said, still sounding a bit sceptical about if that was possible. He could feel how tightly Saff was holding onto him, but knew she didn’t want to voice her fear. He was determined to help her through this.

Soon a rat came back out from the crack and waved for them to come through.

“It’s safe then?” Wyll asked, and the rat nodded and ran back in.

“Let’s dive on in then!” Karlach said, entering the crevice. Wyll waited a moment, then headed in after her.

“You go next. I’ll bring up the rear, in case any goblins come chasing after us,” Gale said to Saff. Numbly she nodded, staring as the others started to disappear into the darkness ahead of them. She really, really didn’t want to lose sight of the others, so forced herself to swallow her fear and follow them in.

Shifting her weight from Gale to the rocks, she clung onto them, using them for support. He watched as she unsteadily made her way in, then glanced around one more time to check they definitely weren’t being watched, before following her in.

The crevice was dark and claustrophobic. It wasn’t long before the already dim light from the temple disappeared behind them and they were left in darkness, with only the steady glow of Karlach’s chest for guidance. Unfortunately the pulsing red light on the rocks, while better than complete darkness, still created a rather unnerving atmosphere. Gale considered casting Light, but even though it was a simple cantrip, wasn’t sure how the orb would respond. He’d do it if needed, but didn’t want to take any unnecessary risks. Plus, in some ways, the darkness was better - it might almost be scarier to see just how small and cramped the space was.

The further they descended, the tighter the tunnel became. Soon they were really struggling, feeling the rocks scraping against their skin as they forced their way through. Gale could hear Saff’s laboured breathing - fear, or pain? Most likely both. He considered trying to talk to take her mind off things, but he knew that ultimately they all needed to be concentrating right now. The rocks underfoot were treacherous, the slightest misstep and you could lose your footing - particularly easy to do with an injured leg.

“Arg… fuck…”

The group stopped as they heard Karlach swear in front.

“Karlach? What’s wrong?” Wyll asked quickly.

“This damn rock… I can’t get past!” she grunted, trying to get herself through a particularly small gap. Wyll got a bit closer to try to help.

“Gods dammit… I can’t see anything…” he moaned as he tried to see where she was getting caught, which was made even more difficult as he couldn’t try to touch her to feel where she was stuck.

Gale sighed slightly, hoping the orb wouldn’t leave him incapacitated again after this.

“Fiat lux,” he incanted, reaching up to touch as high a rock as he could. He felt a jolt of pain from the orb, but luckily it was low enough level magic that the pain died down again quickly. The rocks above them lit up, causing them all to wince for a moment as their eyes adjusted to the new light.

As they opened their eyes again, his fears earlier were proven true. Now able to fully see around them, the true claustrophobic nature of their surroundings was revealed. They could barely even see each other through the tiny gap in the rocks, but it did allow Wyll and Karlach to see what they were doing.

“It’s a bit wider ahead, if I can just get through this bit we’ll be ok!” Karlach called back to them. Wyll could see her trying to push through, but she couldn’t get enough grip on the wet rocks beneath to get the force she needed.

“Alright - I’m going to try to push you through on 3, ok?”

“Wait, no! You can’t touch me, you’ll burn yourself!”

“I’d rather take that than being stuck in here! Now on 3!” Karlach knew he wasn’t going to back down on this, so prepared herself to try to push through. “1… 2… 3!”

He pushed his hand against her shoulder as hard as he could, and they heard the hiss of burning flesh as he cried out in pain, but he didn’t stop - feeling her slowly able to push through now with his added strength, he kept pushing til finally she slid through.

“Wyll! Are you ok??” she gasped once she was through, looking back to him.

“Ahhh… yes… heh, just a burn!” he assured her, clearly trying to hide the pain in his voice.

“Gods, Wyll…” she murmured, both somewhat angry at him for doing that, but also impressed and grateful.

“Keep going, let’s get the hell outta here,” he said. She nodded and continued on, glad for the slightly wider area. Wyll squeezed through the gap, quite frankly amazed Karlach was able to get through it given how difficult he found it.

Behind them, Saff had her eyes squeezed shut. She’d barely heard the conversation - all her mind could focus on was the walls as they felt like they were closing in on her. She’d never thought of herself as being claustrophobic, but she’d never been in a place like this. Her whole body ached, her leg was screaming in pain, and knowing Karlach got stuck was sending her mind into a spiral, imagining being stuck down here, slowly starving to death with no way out…

“Saff!”

She opened her eyes and tried to turn her head to see Gale, but the spot she was currently in was too thin even for that, her head sandwiched between the two walls of rock.

“G-Gale…” she whispered, his voice shaking. “I… I can’t…”

She felt him take her hand in his.

“You can do this. I know you can. Keep going.”

She closed her eyes and tried to focus on the feeling of his hand, the way he gently stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. His words, his voice… eventually she managed to move on, forcing herself through.

The light faded behind them as they continued into the darkness. Saff pushed herself on, one foot after the other, forcing the thoughts of dread out of her mind…

“There! That’s it!!” Karlach called back to them. Finally, they could see a pinprick of light in the distance. Buoyed by the promise of escape being so close, the group pushed through the last bits, the light growing brighter and brighter. Saff watched as ahead of her Karlach’s figure disappeared into the bright light as she finally escaped, followed by Wyll’s. Once he was out the light felt almost blinding now, with no one in front of her to block it. It was welcome though, as she knew the nightmare was almost over.

Finally she took her first step out into the light. She stumbled forward, the light disorientating her, and now with nothing to hold onto to keep her balance. As she fell forward she felt strong arms suddenly catch her and gently lower her to the ground. Her eyes focused to see Halsin knelt in front of her.

“You did it!” he said happily. A smile spread across her face, realising she had indeed managed it and they were finally out. Quickly she looked back towards the crevice.

“Gale…” she whispered, til she saw his hand suddenly appear from the wall, giving her a slightly odd sense of déjà vu. This time though he followed after it, pulling himself out of the passage. He looked round for a moment before spotting her. When he did his face broke out into a smile and he ran over to her, dropping to his knees next to her. She immediately threw her arms round him and he threw his round her. Halsin smiled as he watched them for a moment, before standing up to go and help Wyll with his burns.

Saff melted into his arms as they hugged, holding him tightly. She buried her face into his neck and felt as he gently held the back of her head, softly stroking her hair. They stayed like that for a few long moments before he spoke.

“I knew you could do it,” he whispered proudly into her ear. She smiled to herself, finally sitting back and looked up at him, arms still round his shoulders.

“You were right,” she said breathlessly.

“I’m always right,” he joked. She laughed and shook her head, moving her hands to his chest to playfully push him away. He laughed as he leant back, moving his arms down from her back along her arms, til their hands met once more. She smiled as their fingers intertwined, and looked up to meet his eyes.

“Thank you,” she said sincerely. “For… everything.”

He smiled and lifted a hand to gently tuck a lock of hair behind her ear.

“You’re more than welcome,” he said softly, his hand lingering at her cheek for a moment once more. His eyes flicked up behind her briefly where he saw the rest of the group getting ready to go after doing what they could for Wyll’s burn, then went back to her.

“I think we’d better be going,” he said, then stood up and offered her his hand. She took it again, leaning on him once more. She turned to the others, then looked into the forest ahead of them. They weren’t on any sort of path, and would have to rely on Halsin’s knowledge of these forests to get them out of here.

“I’m… not going to be able to walk very fast,” she warned them all. It had been difficult enough in the temple, but now they had to contend with the uneven forest floor. Gale was considering just how possible it would be for him to carry her, when Halsin stepped forward with another offer.

“I think I have one more wildshape left in me, if you’d like a ride?” Saff looked at him in surprise.

“A ride?” she asked, intrigued. He nodded, and with one last shimmer of magic, wildshaped into a horse. He walked in front of her and knelt down to make it easier for her to get on. Gale smiled, sure that this would be more comfortable for both of them than any attempt he could make to carry her, and helped her up onto Halsin’s back. She gasped and wobbled slightly as Halsin stood back up, and then they were off.

#gale #bg3 gale #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale x tav

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sansloii · 4 months ago

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Hibiko studied her reflection while more little decorations and accessories were added to the outfit. Instead of her classic, well-constructed dress and foundations with specific jewelry pieces central to the design, there were also layers, upon bracelets, upon pendants. As a self-proclaimed fashionista, it was necessary to understand the ebbs and flows of different fashion trends and cultures. But right now, she was failing completely. Barely recognizing her well-developed personal taste of style, in this "more is more" outfit Hibiko, she had no clue anymore. It was more overwhelming than she was expecting, not having an answer or opinion on any of it that she was confident with. "Do you like it?" The seamstress asked with a smile when finally deciding everything lay perfectly to their standard. Hibiko flashed a grateful smile back that meant nothing other than a shallow thank you. Turning away from the mirror, she lost the fake cheery look as she faced Andris. "What do you think?" An honest question. Not at all a desperate plea for help, far from it! Just seeking a second opinion from her future husband. He knew the people and trends better than she did, after all. First impressions were important for their appearance together. Ignore the lost look in her eyes begging for guidance and support. "Would it work with what you're planning on wearing?" (I'M THROWING HIM A BONE. ANDY, DON'T RUIN THIS FOR US)

At first, he says nothing and takes in the fabric and jewels that draped over her like a costume.

He didn't want to think of the outfit that way — especially given that it wasn't the most extravagant outfit he'd seen in his reign ( from his people and otherwise ). However, it… it just didn't suit her. Nice as it was, the longer he stared at Hibiko in it — watching the seamstress work to carefully tailor her dress to better suit her form — the more that thought dwelled. Truly a gorgeous piece, in his opinion, but not right for her.

Andris steps forward from his spot a few paces back, sea-green eyes roving over his queen-to-be as he draws closer to her. In a couple steps, he's standing right in front of her with his lips drawn together in a thoughtful line. His gaze travels along her neck, collarbone, and shoulder; with his attention lingering a little bit longer on the jewels and what not before his eyes lift again to meet her gaze.

He sees her asking for guidance — for support — and what kind of future husband would he be if he outright denied her that.

“Mmm… maybe…” the king pauses a moment, as if gathering his thoughts, before continuing. “…but I feel as though it doesn't reflect her and Edo so much as it does just Sivatis and myself.”

“Perhaps another time — another event, maybe — this would be fitting should she want to wear it. However, this will be our first formal appearance together and so… perhaps something a little different compared to what they're used to seeing.” Something that would better reflect the joining of their two nations, rather than the assimilation of hers.

He now looks to the seamstress, a slightly apologetic expression on his face. “…I know you spent a great deal of time on this but… perhaps we could alter it a bit?”

“This time… perhaps Hibiko — ” Here, he looks to her briefly. “ — can offer some insight into how to best reflect some of what is common in Edo, at least,so we can properly incorporate into her outfits going forward instead of making guesses.”

Coordinating in that manner would make it easier to have complementing outfits, rather than those that plainly match…. and perhaps, it would give him an opportunity to do the same with his own.

If they were going to be married — if there were expected to stand together — then it would start then and there.

Unprompted | @royaletiquette

#royaletiquette #🗪 ┊ ⧼ you all are some chatty cathys! ⧽ ⇹ ( asks. )#✖ ┊ ⧼ i want the world ; i want everything ⧽ ⇹ ( a. )#⬦ ┊ ⧼ and so it goes ⧽ ⇹ ( a.fae king!au. )#.SEE HE DIDN'T FUMBLE IT #.SEE!!!#.i feel like a stressed parent trying to prove that their child can behave

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capricioussun · 1 year ago

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4am time to post massive snippet from a note I will not be sharing the rest of <3

Personally, I see UF Papyrus as having self worth issues not so much in the way of self hatred or low self esteem (under the bravado he puts out), but rather that he hinges his self worth almost entirely on how useful he can be. It’s put a tremendous strain on his own inner relationship with himself, that he almost lacks a sense of self. He becomes what he needs to be, to survive, for acceptance, in the hope of “earning” love admiration, to keep them safe. As long as he’s successfully doing those things, nothing else matters.

He’s convinced himself of that so much, so thoroughly, that he never lets himself fail, never lets himself give up. Because if he does, then what’s the point? What’s he there for? If he can’t even do what he sees as the bare minimum, what good does he do by existing at all?

Whenever I think about surface scenarios at length, there’s almost always some point he stumbles into an existential crisis. He has such a genuinely hard time understanding the reasoning “just because”. His entire life has been means to an end but the end wasn’t an ending at all.

Despite wanting friends and acceptance and affection, those have always been a “waste of time”, or even dangerous. A vulnerability waiting to be exploited. He and Sans always stuck together because it was the smart thing to do, because no one else knew them like they knew each other, because they knew beyond a shadow of a doubt they could always trust each other, and that was rare. The concept of Sans actually caring about him, enough to want to be part of his life simply because they’re brothers, isn’t entirely alien, but it’s never been enough before. If he isn’t useful to Sans, why would they bother? And since they don’t live together anymore, and Sans has Toriel to cook and clean, and he actually likes, seeks her company, why would Sans want anything to do with him?

Would he want that? Well of course! Not that he’d easily admit it, but he’d felt like he’d lost the right to being part of Sans’ life “just because” a long time ago. Back when he started feeling like more trouble than he was worth. When they barely had any food or stable shelter and it seemed like all he ever managed to do was annoy Sans or get them in trouble. Sure, he’d managed to “make himself worth it” by “pulling his own weight” eventually, but that set the standard for him.

He and Undyne were fierce allies, Captains of the North and South, she’d known him since he was a teenager, they’d looked out for each other. Maybe they each had different priorities, but at the end of the day, through even the roughest of patches, they’d formed a strong loyalty to each other. But they weren’t friends, don’t be ridiculous. The notion that she would choose to spend time with him for any other reason than that they work together is absurd. Sure, maybe they’d taken comfort in being able to relax around each other enough knowing the other wouldn’t stab them in the back, but again, that was just something to take advantage of being so rare in their society. If their furthering of trust building no longer benefits them, why would she want that? What does she gain from talking to him about “unimportant” personal matters anymore?

Frisk, Frisk at least he understands. They’re just a child, after all, they need protection and guidance. When children are young they also still need more “emotional” support, too, they’re still learning how the world works. But once they’re older and more capable of handling themself, of course they won’t need him anymore. That’s just how it works, they won’t need the protection, they wouldn’t gain anything from dealing with him beyond what would be expected professionally, and perhaps maintaining a few personal ties to help support a strong working relationship as well.

And it’s bizarrely self contained, too. He doesn’t automatically view others’ relationships through the same lens because so much of why he views his own this way stem from the burden of responsibility that’d been impressed on him from an incredibly early age, first by Gaster, then Sans, then Asgore. Sans and Toriel care about each other, simply because they do, just as Toriel cares for Frisk and Undyne and Alphys care for each other. But for him, he has to earn it. He has to be worth taking up space in someone’s life, he has to serve a purpose because he was made to serve a purpose, and it’s only exacerbated by how deeply he’d come to view his own intrinsic personality traits as negative.

Being kind, believing in the greater good, looking for the best in others was a quick way to get dusted and Sans tried desperately hard to teach that to him when they were living on the streets, because he had to. A good natured little kid like him would’ve been swallowed whole by their world and it was all Sans could do to teach him to repress and reject those tendencies. He needed to harden up and learn to prioritize himself but he never did because that contradicted with his “serving a purpose” mentality and led to Papyrus prioritizing the well being of everyone else first, but prioritizing his own well being enough to make sure he survived to be able to otherwise prioritize them.

But interests and innocence and kindness and seeking affection were bad. They were bad and would get him, and thusly Sans, killed. Loving and being happy and showing positive feelings are bad and so, inevitably, when faced with understanding he could be loved just because, he doesn’t understand why. What is there to love about someone who just is for whatever reason he needs to be?

False confidence was one key to surviving, part of his facade, but if asked why, he’d only be able to insist he is admired and respected for technical attributes. His strength, his status, his ability to protect, his loyalty, his intelligence, his ingenuity. The things that make him able to serve his purposes. He doesn’t consider the fact Sans is endlessly inspired by how immutable his kindness is. He doesn’t consider the fact Undyne thinks he’s hilarious and similarly admires his commitment to helping others. He doesn’t consider the guards might actually be loyal to him because they trust him not because of his status or power but because he’s always looked out for them, even when their own king would not.

He is incapable of seeing himself as an entire monster, and thusly incapable of understanding others can. That they could like, even love him, for every facet, not just the ones he wears proudly, pinned to his chest, a painstakingly crafted mask designed to earn approval. Maybe, maybe he might learn how to take it off, on purpose, and be able to see himself in the reflection. But I think it’d take a very, very long time.

#it’s more complicated than this bc of a lot of specific instances TOO but like. u get the gist right #this all stems from my belief Papyrus in UT is trying hard to be what others perceive him as (for whatever reason that may be)#obviously he *does* have his own personality and makes his own choices but just…there’s a lot about him that seems *crafted* by him ykwim #anyway I’m insane <3 #bye #underfell #underfell papyrus #uf edge #sun spots

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lostovermalibu · 7 months ago

Text

You always come find me when you come to work

You buy me coffee

You buy me lunch

Dinner, too

You always say it’s your culture, that your people love to feed people

But even that one time you and I took a ride in my car, alone

To go get dinner, outside of work, alone

You paid for me then, too, even though I offered

You said don’t worry about it

So I didn’t

I just smiled

And said thank you

Like I always do

You send me messages every day

Mostly things you know will make me laugh

Since we bonded long ago over humor, back in the beginning when I barely knew you

But now I can count on one hand the amount of days we haven’t sent a message or two back and forth since sometime in the winter (it’s almost summer, now)

And even on those few days, we usually liked a post or a story from each other

Some kind of contact, even if it wasn’t direct

I helped you navigate your time off at work when you had that unfortunate event and you were nervous about calling out

You came to me for guidance, and I was so happy I could help you out, to get you your time off, to make you feel okay for taking it

That was the first time you sent me hearts in your messages

And let me tell you, my heart skipped a few beats that day

I was surprised you opened up to me so much, about how sad you were, about how you weren’t really okay, that you felt so awful being so far from family

I saw you when you were catching your flight to go be with your family across the world, and you hugged me tight for so long

A hug of comfort, a hug of sadness, a hug of support, I don’t know what exactly it was

But it went on for so long that it was less of a hug, and more of you holding onto me, or maybe in some way, me holding you, comforting you, by your gentle request

All I know is that was that day you became more than my friend

You became my very close and dear friend

A friend I loved in some way, and who I assumed felt loved by me

You were right, if that was the case

I did love you

I still love you

You still buy me coffee

And lunch, and dinner

You still come to see me

You still talk to me every day

The next time we rode in my car together, we talked about my hair for some reason, and you told me it was really beautiful

Our talks are long, our hugs are long, and you’ve even brought me some thoughtful gifts

Nothing expensive, but all very thoughtful, and incredibly personal

I see all this, I say all this,

But you’re with her

And I don’t know what any of this means

#love #confusion #crush #new love #uncertainty #affection #i love you #but I probably shouldn’t #tell me what it means

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kehlana-wolhamonao3 · 1 year ago

Note

For your asks - Before the Beginning (for the Heiress if possible 🫣)

Papa was dead.

Mary wondered idly if that fact would somehow finally register in her head if she repeated it to herself often enough.

So far it hadn’t, despite her witnessing the whole ghastly scene in person just a few hours previously. In fact, the image of Papa standing up and violently vomiting blood all over the table kept repeating itself in front of her eyes, followed swiftly by the image of him on the floor, gasping in pain and assuring them all of his love for them as they were assuring him he was going to be alright.

Turned out, they were wrong, because Papa died before Dr Clarkson even had a chance to arrive, despite being called immediately and jumping straight into the ambulance.

Papa was dead and none of them knew what to do.

Of course, it meant that the house and practically everything else, save for some of their personal possessions belonged to Matthew now.

Matthew, who was God knew where in Europe, busy fighting a war. Matthew, who had not visited them or sent a word ever since he had left that ghastly garden party a year and a half ago.

Well, thought Mary bleakly, at least he would have to come home now, even if he still didn’t want to talk to her.

She wished she could be happy about that.

***

It stunned Mary all anew when she realised she had to be in charge for the time being.

Nobody else was going to be.

Mama was lost in her grief. She had not left her room since Papa’s body was taken away. Granny, indomitable, irrepressible Granny, could barely speak and looked so fragile it truly frightened Mary. She looked up to her for guidance, but it was painfully obvious that none was coming, at least not yet, not in those first nightmarish days of grief. Sybil needed support more than Mary and Edith was useless, of course. Isobel was dying to be useful however she could, but considering the delicacy of the situation, she hesitated to assume any responsibility which could be perceived as taking charge of the house.

Which left Mary as the person who dealt with the funeral arrangements, the servants, Murray, Jarvis and the death notifications. Carson admired her for being so composed, Edith accused her of being a heartless monster. She wondered how many people agreed with Edith’s interpretation of her actions.

Sometimes she wondered if Edith wasn’t right.

It took her two days to realise that probably nobody notified Matthew yet.

When she asked Isobel for his contact details, she was met with proper compassion for the first time and it had nearly proved her undoing.

“I can handle it, if you prefer, Mary,” said Isobel gently. “You’re shouldering everything else.”

Mary straightened, desperately fighting to stay numb, because under the protective cover of it she could feel a dark abyss, just waiting to devour her and spit her broken. She could not afford to be broken, not now, not when everybody else was.

“Thank you,” she said thickly. “But it should come from one of us.”

Soon she was sitting over the blank page of a telegram. It had to be a telegram; there was no time for a letter to be delivered if Matthew was to have any chance of coming in time for the funeral. The format of a telegram was restrictive, didn’t leave any space for feelings or apologies and maybe it was a good thing; nobody could judge what she felt for the recipient by reading a telegram.

She wondered what Matthew would feel when he received it. Shock, for sure – weren’t they all shocked? Sorrow, probably, for Papa; they were close with each other, whatever happened between Matthew and her. The weight of responsibility he had never wanted in the first place. Compassion for them all, she had no doubts, he was too kind to react otherwise.

She wondered if seeing her after all this time would bring him pain or if he had long forgotten that he had ever felt anything for her.

In the end, the text was simple:

PAPA IS DEAD STOP YOU’RE THE EARL NOW STOP FUNERAL PLANNED MARCH 15 STOP LET US KNOW IF YOU CAN GET LEAVE STOP IF NOT LET US KNOW HOW YOU WISH TO PROCEED WITH EVERYTHING STOP MARY

Now all that was left was to wait for Matthew to come back and not let herself fall apart.

#downton abbey #downton abbey fanfiction #writing asks #mary crawley #the heiress

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realm-sweet-realm · 2 years ago

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The Ink Realm’s Revival

Time goes on, and the ink realm heals under Audrey’s guidance. It becomes a source of help for her as well as she deals with the unique challenges of life as an ink creature and raising a child who is made of stuff she is.

---

Carrying her little bundle in her arms, Audrey stepped into the Joey Drew memoriabilia room and made her way to the ink machine. The items were on their pedestals and the ink was rising. She’d done this many times before, but never with her delicate baby. She had to do this. It was the only way for Allister have a normal life.

Once the ink was up to her mid-thighs, Audrey plunged herself and her child under the ink, trying not to think of how much it had terrified her when Wilson had forced her through the same.

Moments later, Audrey woke up in the ink realm, her baby next to her, crying. She quickly checked him over to make sure that the blindfold was still in place and there were no marks on him that might produce shocks like her left hand did. Once she was sure she could do it safely, she scooped him up with her right hand and rocked her body, holding him against her chest.

As Allister began to quiet down, Joey and Henry showed up.

“Sorry we’re late,” Joey said, “we ran into Alice again. She’s still not fully convinced that she can let her guard down.”

Audrey sighed. “And after I got her a brand-new face and everything.”

“Some ink creatures adjust faster than others,” Henry said, shrugging his shoulders. “Anyhow, how’s Allister doing?”

“I think he’s alright. Hopefully the trip in didn’t scare him too badly. Thank you both for being here.”

“Of course. We’re not going to let you go through this alone,” Henry said.

Audrey smiled, nodded, and got up. He sure hadn’t. Joey and Henry had been Audrey’s support system ever since her partner had walked out on her. They’d wiped away her tears as she came to terms with the fact that she’d be going through her pregnancy without her partner. They’d been the ones she came to with her worries when her baby wasn’t growing and no doctor knew why. And when Audrey realized that Allister was an ink creature in the same way she was, they’d agreed to help her cross the ink realm so that she could use the machine on him and allow him to grow. Henry had suggested the blindfold. The ink realm was a lot for an infant to take in, after all.

---

Audrey was woken from her sleep at 6 AM sharp by a banging at her door. Ah, the joys of parenthood.

Groggily, she got up, opened the bedroom door, where Allister was waiting for her with a smile on his face.

“Can we go to the ink machine now?” he asked, hands balled into fists and words tumbling out so quickly Audrey could barely understand them.

Audrey chuckled. “Happy birthday. And no- Archgate Studios won’t be open for two hours yet. But soon. Go get dressed. I’ll get breakfast ready.”

Allister scampered off without another word.

Audrey stepped into the kitchen, put on some coffee, and got out the pancake mix. Maybe this should be the year she showed Allister the ink realm. Not that he’d asked much lately. He’d attempted to remove the blindfold plenty of times when he was six or seven, but since he’d gotten into sports, it was all about the end product to him- getting bigger and stronger and more mature-looking. Since then, he hadn’t so much as asked about what the ink machine was or why he wasn’t allowed to know about it, the same way Audrey had, at the same age, stopped asking about Santa Clause’s existence, just in case doing so would lead Joey to buy her less gifts. Still, she couldn’t hide it from him forever, and there was a lot she wanted to show him.

Once the mix was prepared, Bendy joined Audrey in the kitchen.

“Hey, Bendy,” she said. “Want to cook today?”

Bendy nodded.

Audrey got the skillet going, got out the needed utensils, lifted Bendy onto the counter so that he could flip the pancakes, and sat down at the table. It sure was useful having a kid who liked to cook. And while Bendy was at it, Audrey could add some finishing touches to her vision for her son’s new, eleven-year-old body. This year, he'd asked for some of that first-hints-of-puberty muscle, like some of his classmates were showing. And blue-gray eyes, like she had. He’d tried a few different eye colours, his current one being bright green, but he always came back to this one.

A few minutes later, the table was set, breakfast was served, and Audrey was sitting at it with her two sons.

“Allister, I think it’s time that I showed you what the ink machine is,” Audrey said.

“Okay,” Allister said, more focused on the pancakes he was drenching in syrup.

“It’s related to the ink realm that Bendy comes from. I hid it from you for a long time because it was an ugly place-”

“Yeah, I figured. It smells like ink, it has the word ‘ink’ in the name...”

“Yes. Well, I think you’re finally old enough, and it’s finally nice enough for me to show you.”

---

Audrey led Bendy and Allister into the Joey Drew memorabilia room of Archgate studios and unlocked what had once been a supply closet door, revealing the entrance to the ink realm. Thanks to some magic that Joey had taught Audrey and Allison had helped her to implement, no one had had to drown to access the ink realm in years. Audrey looked back at Allister to see his reaction. He was looking on in awe- though perhaps not as much as someone who didn’t have a demon as an older brother would have expressed.

Allister tried to take off into the ink realm, and Audrey had to catch his arm to hold him back. “Woah, there. There’s dangerous stuff in there, little guy. Stay with me. We’ll meet up with our escorts not far into here.”

Allister groaned a little, but he obeyed.

The trio walked in together. Turning into their sepia-toned forms. Bendy stretched into his demon form, just in case there was a threat to fight off or someone fun to chase. As they strolled through the inky corridors, Audrey decided it was time to start explaining.

“So... I think it’s pretty obvious that neither of us are exactly human. And I guess this is the part where I explain what we actually are. Everything you see here started out as the creations of your grandfather. He made all of this to make sense of the mistakes he’d made. He hurt a lot of people in the process. But then he made me. And long story short, I’m in control of this world now. I don’t know how you came about. Maybe I imagined you into existence when I first started thinking that I wanted a child with my partner. But either way, you and I are ink creatures, just as much as Bendy is.”

Allister looked at Audrey and nodded in understanding. “Oh,” he said. He looked thoughtful, as though a lot of things were beginning to make sense to him. Audrey couldn’t blame him. It had been her reaction, too.

Allison and Tom were waiting at the end of the corridor. “Why does she look like a young, cartoony Aunt Allison?” Allister asked, pointing.

“Because she’s based on her. You’ll be meeting a lot of weirder-looking people, so be polite, okay? We’ll have all the time in the world to answer your questions after.”

“Okay,” Allister said. Audrey hoped he’d keep his word. Then she went to greet Allison.

“Hey. No blindfold this time,” Allison commented.

“Nope. I thought it was time he knew,” Audrey said. “Mind giving us a full tour?”

Bendy butted Audrey with his head and huffed. “Um, starting with Sammy and his crew?”

Allison chuckled. “Sure thing.”

It was a short walk through a sewer area to get to Harbour Town, and with Bendy leading the way (Audrey had to get on his case about racing ahead twice), the axes Tom and Allison were wielding were wholly unneeded. At the end of it, Audrey opened up a vault door to reveal rows of buildings that looked straight out of a history book describing the 1940s. Bendy took off running and the group raced after him, passing theatres and butcheries, houses and saloons. Bendy barged into a small but elaborate building that served as their town hall. Within it, a lost one in a mask and overalls was at a podium, overseeing what looked like a town meeting. Everyone’s attention was on Bendy the second he came in.

“My lord!” he cried out, and he ran towards the demonic beast. The other lost ones kept their distance out of respect, leaving one by one as it was clear that Sammy would not be finishing the meeting that day. Once Sammy got closer, he noticed that Audrey was there, too. “Ahem. My nephew,” Sammy corrected. “What shall we do first? Hunt some seekers, perhaps? Or I could play a new song for you. They’re much easier to learn now that I have five fingers.”

Bendy wagged his tail. “Both. Seekers first,” he answered in his deep, ink-distorted voice.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Audrey said, “try to keep him in town once you’re done chasing seekers. We’ll meet up with you when you’re ready to go.”

“Very well,” Sammy said. For a moment, he pried his eyes away from Bendy and noticed Allister. “Oh, my. You’re bringing this little one in here now?”

“I thought it’s gotten peaceful enough.”

“Will I be babysitting him, too, in the future?”

“Maybe. But not today,” Audrey said. She honestly didn’t think that Sammy could be attentive to anyone if Bendy was nearby.

“Hmm. What is your name?” Sammy asked Allister. “Do you like music?”

“Allister. And it’s okay.”

“He doesn’t play an instrument if that’s what you’re asking.”

“I’ll have to teach you, then. But I think we’ll get along just fine.” Sammy patted Allister on the head, leaving goey strands of ink in his hair. Allister was cringing a little, but Sammy was already rushing off with Bendy.

“Don’t worry,” Audrey said once Sammy was out of earshot, “there are plenty of other people who I could leave you with if need be. Want to go meet some of them?”

“Sure!” Allister chirped.

And so, they did. Their first stop was Alice’s manor. Bullet holes dotted the walls, a product the inital fighting that had occurred over the place when Wilson had died. But at very least all the torn up furniture had been replaced and Alice all of Alice’s “decorations” had been removed. It seemed like a few years of no attempted takeovers and Betty wishing she could have guests over was what it took for Alice to let her guard down and stop leaving out the bodies and organs of her enemies as a warning.

After checking a few rooms (most housing guests), Audrey found Alice in the library, embroidering with Betty as their resident Borises slept by the fireplace. Betty was the first to notice them. She got up to greet them. “Oh. Hello, Audrey. Are you here to stay the night?”

“No. Just here to show Allister the sights. Nice mask, by the way.” Betty was wearing a very fancy half-mask that looked like it belonged at a masquerade. She’d never gotten quite used to showing all of her face, but Alice had gotten her to show a little more of it by making her more revealing masks.

“Why, thank you. Looks like he’s quite enjoying this one.”

Audrey looked behind her to see Allister playing fetch with the resident Borises. “Hey! Not in here,” she called out.

Allister and the Borises slunk out of the library and Tom followed behind them to supervise.

Audrey turned back. “Ha, looks like we have a few minutes, anyhow.”

“Good, good. We love it when you visit. Don’t we, Alice?” Betty turned to see that Alice and Allison were already on the opposite side of the room, talking about who-knew-what. “Oh. Mine is gone, too.”

Audrey laughed. “I guess it’s just us, then. That works for me.”

After their visit, the tour continued. Audrey kept it focused on things Allister would find interesting. She took him to the artistic lost one and they did some painting alongside his newfound following, then took him to Heidi and Porter to play games, and then, to Audrey’s chagrin, let Allister cheer Bendy on as he tore seekers to inky shreds. A certain amount of finding entertainment in violence was normal, she supposed. And that was the most violence he witnessed. The worst enemies they encountered that peaceful day were a few small ink widows, which Allison picked off with ease.

At around five, Audrey figured it was time to get moving towards the machine. They’d subsisted off of vending machine snacks for lunch, and she didn’t want to have to do it for supper as well. “Alright. It’s time to go to the ink machine,” she said to Allister. “I’ll warn you- It’s scary-looking. But you know what it feels like. It’ll only hurt for a second.”

Allister nodded, a look of determination on his face. Audrey opened the lab door and took Allister past the tubes of coloured ink, past the propoganda posters of Wilson and his old workbench, and to the insertation shoot. Joey, with Henry’s assistance, had made a number of improvements to the machine since Audrey’s first trip through the ink realm, much of which simply meant undoing Wilson’s changes to it, but unfortunately it seemed that the insertation process was one thing he’d gotten perfect.

Joey and Henry were already there, waiting for them. “Is everything ready to go?” Audrey asked.

“You bet,” Joey said.

Audrey took out the picture of Allister’s eleven-year-old body and put it on the insertation shoot’s pedestal. Then she led Allister to the other side of the shoot, to where the souls were deposited. She pushed the button, and the spinning blades popped out of the device and started spinning. Allister backed up into Audrey, who put her arms around him.

“It’s okay,” Audrey reassured him, “It’s the same device we’ve always used. We used it to give Alice a new face, and Sammy new fingers. We made sure it would be safe. But I know it looks scary. Do you want to go in yourself, or do you want me to push you?”

Allister peeled Audrey’s arms off and, resolute, marched into the blades. There was no blood, only watching her son turn into splattering ink.

Next was the hardest part- waiting the forty minutes to an hour that would have to pass as the machine did its thing. The machine’s success rate was over 95%. They’d done this many times before and nothing had ever gone wrong. And yet every time, it worried Audrey that her son would come out an abomination, or wouldn’t come out at all. Joey, Henry, Tom and Allison tried to keep her distracted with small talk and games of cards, all right in front of the inky puddles from which the ink machine’s subjects emerged.

Forty-five minutes later, Allister's arm emerged from the inky puddles. Audrey ran over and helped pull him out. As was normal, he was a little out of breath coming out. “Can we go back to Heidi, now?” was the first thing he said when he came out. “We weren’t done playing.”

Audrey shook her head and smiled. “No. It’s time to go home now. But now that you know about the ink realm, and it’s a relatively safe place, there will be plenty of opportunities to come back here. It’s been like a second home to me and Bendy. And now it can be yours, too.”

#Bendy and the Ink Machine #audrey drew #ocs #Ink bendy #Toon bendy #malice #alice angel #betty #Allison Angel #sammy lawrence #artist lost one #heidi #porter #my fanfiction

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k1nky-fool · 1 year ago

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The Ace Of Swords

Book I: The Devil in the Details

Chapter I: Climbing The Tower

Nadia Satrinava x OC, Callisto

Synopsis: Vesuvia is being devastated by The Red Plague, and the Master Magician, Callisto has found a trail that mysteriously leads into the Palace Court while she searches The Arcana for a cure for the plague. Meanwhile Nadia begins to have hope that Vesuvia isn't as lost as it seems, if she can just fix this city.

Warnings: Sexual tension, future NSFW, but not in this chapter. Mentions of plague victims, and general suffering.

Masterlist

The streets of Vesuvia were barely busy. It might have been unfair to say that with a couple hundred people buzzing about the market, but the truth was that nothing was busy for Callisto until she stepped onto palace grounds. The baker had her stuffed pumpkin bun ready for her before she ever got to his storefront. She’d love to stay and chat, but he knows that she has to ride the lightning on Saturday mornings on her way to The Palace. He also knows now not to make her bun again until Tuesday.

Callisto stops on the steps leading up to the palace gate to finish her breakfast and take a long breath. She knows she won’t get the chance to once her boot steps onto palace grounds.

The guards open the gates as soon as they recognize her. As she passes, her heart hurts with a glance at the guard’s eye. His right scaleria has turned red, he’s passed into the second phase of the plague. It’s undetermined how long this phase will last, but he will slowly begin losing grip of reality until the plague passes to the third phase. Callisto’s intuition tells her that this guard will be on the boat to The Lazaret within the month.

As soon as her boot lands on the marble path, her mentor is tailing her.

“You’re late, Magician.” Julian jabs as they walk through the front garden.

“A Magician arrives precisely when she means to. What did I miss?”

Julian placed a bound stack of papers into her waiting hand, she skimmed through the reports as they walked. “The last boat to Lazaret went out Friday morning, so the dungeons are a little quiet today. Some bedridden patients offered to stay for more experimentation, so those are the only few down there at the moment.”

“I’m sure Quaestor Valdemar will take up feeding any bodies to the beetles.” Callisto shivered.

“I’d rather them do it than have to go near the vat.” Julian admitted.

“Any updates on timetables?” Callisto asked.

“There is limited evidence to suggest that twin patients succumb to the plague within one day of each other.” Julian noted. “Which could support my hypothesis that it’s a blood infection.”

“Or it’s genetic.” Callisto suggested.

Julian gave a wry smile. “Bloodlines! Even better.”

Callisto and Julian round the palace halls to get to the library. “You search the blood, I’ll look into the patients of the same family and compare infection progress reports.”

“Sounds good to me.” Julian was off to the bookshelf with the secret lever hidden in a combination of books to pull.

Callisto went to the record room and began searching through alphabetically categorized patient reports. When she was finally happy with her stack, she took it over to her favorite spot on the floor. It was still well supplied with her favorite pillows and blankets where she could comfortably pour over records to find answers and her cards could offer helpful guidance on what to search for.

As Julian had said, families with one or more sets of twins usually held on in the second and third phases the longest. With twins always perishing within a day of each other. But there was another pattern somewhere in there, and Callisto knew the cards would be pulled to it like a magnet.

Callisto pulled a card from the deck revealing the Six of Cups.

The strongest bonds keep them attached to this world, but the plague rusts all chains.

The closer the families are?

It seemed that families from the more ruined parts of town, perhaps closer quarters? Being able to rely on your family might make it possible for these patients to live longer. Callisto pulled another card, pulling the Queen of Swords reversed.

The plague is inflicted by cruelty, but can be resisted. Who can fight the longest?

Is it something individual? People with better relationships might be more devoted to battling the plague.

Callisto knew the plague had a habit of dipping back into her magical expertise. As much as Julian chases the physical aspects of the illness, the cards always suggest there is something ancient, evil, and malicious behind it. Once again Callisto was brought to the mystic tomes and diaries that lined the top of the library. Books on baneful magic, chaos magic, and even malevolent deity worship.

Taking them back to her nest and continuing to pour over the scrawled notes and ancient catalogs of magic spells and guides for mystic journeys.

It was driving her insane. This was what she liked to study on a daily basis, but knowing it was in pursuit of an answer that hid in every crevice of magic, it felt more futile the more books she read through. A scuffle in the corner of the library was mostly ignored by her until a familiar creature came scampering up to her, and she wasn’t alone.

“Clio, you made a friend.” Callisto noted. Clio was a genet with ashy gray fur with black spots. She had brought the most beautiful owl Callisto had ever seen. The owl eyed Callisto carefully, and she figured its trust was not won without some effort.

Callisto reached into her bag and found the lunch she packed for her day, knowing she likely wouldn’t get to the kitchens as she continued her work. She took out a piece of stripped chicken from her sandwich and offered it to the owl.

She stared at it for a moment before seeing Clio watch the snack like she would take it if she took too long. So the bird hopped forward and took the treat from Callisto’s hand. She kept her hand in place as she finished the snack. Callisto was rewarded with being allowed to pet her. “It’s right for you to demand respect. I just know you’re a clever bird.”

“Careful, you’ll give her an ego with compliments like that.” A new, warm voice joined her spot in the library. When Callisto looked up, she fought the urge to jump up to have some respect for this woman, but the owl hopped up onto her knee, and she thought better of pushing it off.

“Lady Satrinava. I take it you’re a friend of this enchanted owl?”

“Her name is Chandra.” The Countess introduced. “She and I are old friends.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Chandra. My name is Callisto.” She introduced in return, and Chandra happily hopped off her knee. “And it’s a pleasure to meet you, Countess. Right there is my friend, Clio.”

“I don’t believe I’ve seen a creature like her before.” Lady Satrinava knelt down offering her hand to Clio.

“She’s a genet. They live in the forests and fields outside of Vesuvia.” Callisto explained. “I was hunting for mushrooms with my aunt when I was a child. Clio came up to me and led me right to a bunch of truffles and a few puffball mushrooms. She hasn’t left my side since.”

“She doesn’t look like the kind of animal to eat mushrooms.” Nadia noted.

Callisto shrugged. “She doesn’t. I think she just knew what we were looking for, and remembered where some were. She still does that sometimes. She’ll still bring home truffles she finds because she knows I like them.”

“Clever girl.” Nadia pets Clio affectionately. Her familiar rolling over in trust and giving Nadia’s hand playful licks. “I don’t believe I’ve seen you around the Palace much.”

“I’m technically apprenticing under Dr. Devorak.” Callisto explained. “I’m only here from Saturdays to Mondays. The rest of the week, I’m working at my shop in the city. Trying to help with boots on the ground.”

Nadia fully sits down in front of Callisto, and she’s more than happy to entertain this beautiful distraction. She doesn’t seem to have any qualms about just sitting on a pillow on the library floor. She finds her own nest very comfortable, but she wasn’t under any impression that even normal people liked it, let alone a princess, and countess. But then again, the distraction was absolutely captivating.

This is the Count’s wife! Am I trying to get banished or executed?

“What wares does your shop sell?” Nadia asks. She doesn’t hesitate to make herself comfortable, and doesn’t give a second thought to settling herself on the floor, let alone with a random plague researcher.

“Well, I’m a magician, I’m lending my studies of the mystical arts to the palace. I sell spells, ingredients, charms, potions, and I give tarot readings.” She explained. “Most of my free time is spent looking through more books, scrolls and records for more information on the plague.”

“I don’t believe I’ve ever seen cards like those before. Are they your instrument?”

Callisto was becoming more and more curious about why Nadia was so interested in her craft. “An instrument of sorts. I use the cards to listen for the voices of the spirits beyond this world. They are the keepers of secrets, and they have an answer for every question you could ever ask. It might not always be clear though. They give hints most of the time, rather than full information. I use them to guide my research on the plague.”

“Could I ask a question?”

“Are you sure?” Callisto asked. “When I do this reading, I will know your heart. If there is anything you don’t want me to know, I might compromise that with a reading.”

Nadia gave a curious expression. “You know I am a person of influence, and yet you chose to warn me instead of betraying my trust by keeping me uninformed. That alone is enough for me to know you have my best interest at heart.”

“As you wish, milady.” Callisto shuffled the cards together, and counted them out into three piles. “Choose a stack.”

Nadia leaned over and grabbed the one closest to Callisto, making a brief moment of eye contact that made her blush. Callisto quickly discarded the other two piles. She took the one from Nadia and spread the cards out in a wheel pattern around a center card.

“Choose three cards and I’ll read them.” Nadia chose the center card and one from the top and bottom.

She handed the cards to Callisto, and she flipped over the first card. “The Ace of Swords.”

“What does the Ace have to say to me?”

It’s a Minor Arcana, so the voice is quieter, and usually more abstract. “The Ace of Swords signifies that you have recently acquired power. But beware that this power has an equal potential to harm as it does to help anyone at its end.” Callisto explains.

“Perhaps I am more in control of my circumstances than I initially presumed.” Nadia mused.

The next card turned and was placed next to the other. “The Five of Cups signifies a major loss. Despair and destruction are foretold, but not all hope is lost. There will be a foundation left to rebuild, and you will have the tools and help you need to heal.”

Nadia doesn’t panic, or even show any external signs of worry. “I see. I suppose I will need to remain diligent.”

“An optimistic attitude is a good companion for difficult times.” Callisto says, turning the last card. “The High Priestess.”

For a moment Nadia is perplexed by the card that faces her. As if she recognizes the figure, but the voice of The High Priestess comes louder and clearer than the others.

“She says she will not lead you astray. Your wisdom and intuition will guide you.” Callisto says.

“Well, then I suppose I am in good company.” Nadia said, seemingly satisfied with the reading she received. “Has my heart been revealed to you?”

Callisto looked down at the full spread, and took in everything again. “It has, but I am curious.”

“You’ve entertained my whim, the least I can do is be honest.”

“What brought you here?” Callisto asked. “There are plenty of people for you to approach in this library, even more in the palace. Why me?”

Nadia smiled as if she expected such a question, but even still, Callisto felt somewhat vulnerable asking it.

“Intuition.” She answers, looking to Chandra for a moment.

Callisto can sense a secret beneath her response, but she is being honest. “Have I proven myself?”

“Your skills have met my high standards. And your intentions have impressed Chandra. I would say the impression you have left is a good one.” Nadia said.

“I should be thanking you. The cards were rather cryptic before you asked your question.” She chuckled, shuffling the spread back into the deck.

“Perhaps they were simply tired of the subject at hand.” Nadia suggests.

“In any case, they seemed to think there was something special about you.” Callisto explained. “I think whatever you choose to do will have a great impact on Vesuvia.”

“And how do you take that, Callisto?”

Callisto pondered the question for a moment. Wherever The Countess’s path led, and wherever it crossed with her own, she was unsure. However, there wasn’t any darkness surrounding the Countess here. She seemed driven to do something, but intentions leave an ashy residue on conversations. At least with the magic that Callisto practiced, she could feel it like a physical presence.

“I think you’re going in the right direction. I see a determination in you that is growing into an obsession.” She explained, her mystic senses filling her reading of Nadia’s spirit. “If you are not careful, obsessions can imprison you, Countess. Keep your intuition sharp. Your aura is one of prey.”

“And who is doing the hunting?” Nadia asks.

Callisto shrugs and pulls a card in response.

The Devil.

There are no words that come to Callisto now, only the sound of distant, venomous laughter, echoing across the realms. “An obsession.”

Nadia gets an understanding look on her face. “I will heed your warning well, Callisto.” She bowed and bid her farewell, Chandra flew to perch on her shoulder as she walked away.

“Some friends you made, Clio.”

She chirped and rolled over into Callisto’s lap. “Friends!”

The dungeon door opened and Julian finally emerged from the depths. “Have you found anything on the genetics side?”

“I’m not entirely sure it’s genetic, it looks to be more that plague victims with family have people to rely on to take care of them.” Callisto said. “My hypothesis on this lead is that there will be more deaths in these families as they have less people to rely on.”

“Ah.” Julian said with all the enthusiasm drained from his voice. “I hate it when I’m right.”

While that might have felt like a personal insult at any other time, that phrase had become a mantra of Julian’s pessimism.

“I think I might have found a thread.” Callisto mentioned. “It’s more in my world than yours, so I hope your leeches are coming up with something.”

“Oh no, is this another one of those prophecies?” Julian groaned.

“Something like that.” Callisto grabbed her bag and got ready to head out.

“You know these never bring up anything good.” He argued.

“It’s not like you even need me. Just keep wrangling leeches.” She dodged, heading back out the library door. There was something awry in the palace, and it has something to do with the plague.

The best she could do was start by looking into the previsions the palace is taking to help plague victims in the city. Valdemar was handling the research end of it, but the Consul Valerius would be in charge of the city planning, and aid work being sent out to the streets. Though, approaching the Consul of Count Lucio directly might not go over well if she did it alone. Thankfully, Callisto knew who to go to.

“Lyra!” She called out, finding her heading to the studio.

“Callisto, whatever do I owe the pleasure.”

“Remember how you owe me a favor?” Callisto winced, knowing this was a fairly big ask of Lyra.

“I do.” She said cautiously.

“I promise, this won’t involve you beyond this favor.” She swore to her.

“Alright, shoot.”

“Can you get me a small meeting with Consul Valerius?” She asked.

“Are you sure I can trust you to be nice? Remember what happened with Pontifex Vulgora?” Lyra accused.

“That was a genuine misunderstanding! They were violently shaking, I thought they might have been having a seizure or something, I didn’t think they’d take it so personally.”

Lyra eyed her skeptically.

“Please, Lyra.”

“On condition.” She compromised.

“Anything.”

“You have to pass a test of your manners.” She said.

Callisto was left surprised. “What exactly does that mean?”

A mischievous smile spread across her face. “I’m on my way to the studio to work on a high profile portrait. I want you to sit in with me, and you have to mind your manners for the entire duration. Treat him like your job is on the line.”

Lyra knew this would be difficult for her no matter who this high profile client was. “You’re trying to burn me out before I ever even see the Consul, huh?”

“Believe me, if you can handle him, then Valerius will be easy to get along with.” She assured, but it did little to help ease Callisto's anxiety.

As soon as the studio door opened, she immediately realized why Lyra had warned her to treat him like her job depended on it.

“Count Lucio, thank you for your patience. My sincerest apologies, but I required some extra help to ensure this portrait is one to remember on account of the poor weather today.” Lyra explained herself.

“I suppose if it’s to capture my image correctly, I don’t mind waiting a little.” Lucio puffed out his chest. “What do you do?” He addressed Callisto quite harshly, making her flinch.

“I’m a Magician, Count- sir.” Callisto choked. “Lyra explained she needed some extra light because the clouds are blocking out the natural sunlight.”

“I must ensure your portrait is as radiant as you are.” Lyra supplied. “Now Count, I have a selection of skulls as you requested. I have a deer, a horse, and a goat, do any of these suit your preference?”

Count Lucio walked over to the table and immediately went for the horse. Like he was drawn to the biggest one.

“A powerful choice, sir.” Lyra approved. “How would you like this portrait to make the viewer feel?”

“Inferior.” He answered, holding the skull up to the candle light.

Lyra nodded. “I’m thinking, the red jacket with the fur cape, gold arm on display, and of course a sword.” She rattles off, collecting the materials from the rack of impressive clothes. “I want all the fixings, gold, gems- Oh this is a nice cloak clasp- and, I’m getting lots of gold.”

She seems to understand Lucio’s tastes, and chooses many things she knows will impress him. Her whimsical nature brought with her artistic talent strokes his ego. He takes his costume and goes into the dressing room to change.

“So far so good.” Lyra whispers.

“My plan is to stay quiet and do whatever he says.” She whispered back.

“That may be easier said than done.” She warns.

Lucio emerges in the impressive getup, brushing the fur on his shoulders.

“Despite the horrid lighting, the weather has inspired me.” Lyra says. “Callisto, can you give a light like the sun peeking out of stormy clouds onto our magnificent hero.”

Believe it or not, her abstract descriptions are just perfect for concentrating her magic. She closes her eyes and focuses on that feeling. When the air is cold from the rain, and the first rays of sunlight are cutting through the storm, giving assurance that the storm has passed.

An orb of light floats up from her hand until it reaches the ceiling. Lyra pulls back the blinds to let the gray light into the room to assist the lighting. Lucio strikes a pose with his hand on the sword, and his boot, pressing the horse skull into the floor. “You look stunning, Count.”

She begins sketching out his form, in a long tedious process. “So you’re a magician, Callisto.”

Callisto was lucky she was sitting behind him, and out of his peripheral, because she flinched when he said her name again.

“Yes sir.” She answered.

“You wouldn’t happen to know that other magician boy, Asra, right?”

Her jaw tightened as soon as he said that name. “May I speak freely about him?”

“Oh this ought to be good.” He laughed. “Go right ahead.”

Lyra gave her a look of warning, but let her make her own decision.

“Asra doesn’t know how to mind his own business.” She spat. “I knew them once, but we’re no longer on speaking terms.”

“Ha! I know, right?” He couldn’t get enough. “Tell me, how did you meet my portrait artist?”

Callisto looks to Lyra to see if she’s alright with him knowing. She gives a relaxed nod. Apparently the Count knows about her and Valerius. “She came to my shop in the city asking for a tarot reading for the future of her romantic life.”

“Oooh, did Lyra have a crush?” Lucio teased, getting a bashful, knowing smile from Lyra.

“The cards told her that her best love life was waiting for her in the Palace.” Callisto recalled. “I remember running into her at the market the next afternoon, and Lyra told me that she’d immediately sent her portfolio to the Palace.”

“So I have you to thank for my artist?”

“I just gave her the message. Lyra’s choice to take her chance was entirely her own.” She figured modesty would be the right choice in front of Lucio. “You’ll have to thank her own diligent practice and eye for greatness. I think her paintings are certainly more memorable because she paints a truly memorable man.”

“You’re quite the flatterer, Callisto.” Lucio accuses, but she can tell he isn’t upset about it at all.

“It’s polite to be honest, is it not?” She chuckled. “Besides, I wouldn’t see a point in serving the Palace if I didn’t believe the Count was a worthy and great leader. You’ve made working here efficient and easy.”

All she could think about was the people hobbling down the street in lines to the boats that would take them to the Lazaret. She was keeping a cork on her rage, and offering only the best of what she could pick out from her experiences here.

“Have you attended any of my Masquerades or parties?” Lucio asked.

“Yes! I live in the city, but the parties are magnificent. Unfortunately my busy schedule made it difficult to attend any since the last Masquerade.” Callisto admitted.

“What work could you possibly be doing to keep you from my parties?” Lucio accused.

And just when she thought he couldn't ask a worse question. Lyra sent her a glare, and Callisto knew she had to think fast. “Count Lucio, forgive me, but I think the subject of Plague research is very tiring, and it shouldn’t invade your portrait at all.”

“What do you do when you’re not working at the Palace, Callisto?” Lucio pried.

“I work at my shop in the city. I give tarot readings and sell various magic wares.” She explained.

Lucio all but jumped. “Oooh! Read me!” He demanded as Lyra took her hand off the canvas to wait for him to stop moving.

Callisto figured she didn’t have much of a choice. Unfortunately, she knew to be more scared of what the Arcana may tell her about Lucio rather than what she may have to say to him.

She shuffled the cards as she walked around Lyra to face Lucio. She pulled three cards and held them out face down to him. “Which one do you choose, sir?”

“The middle one!” He said, nearly shaking with excitement.

She discarded the other two and turned the card face up. Death Reversed.

The stagnation of one is the stagnation of all. Malicious forces fester in the open wound.

“What does it say?”

“Death Reversed means a refusal to change. You have no desire to change your circumstances, nor desire to stop what you are doing.” Callisto says.

At the very least Lucio doesn’t seem offended. “Of course I don’t want to change!” He laughs. “I’m at the top of the world, I don’t need to change anything.”

Callisto just nodded, putting the cards away. She knew if she didn’t keep him occupied, then he’d keep asking questions that could get more and more dicey for her to answer. So she’d need a better strategy. “You know, Count. I hear many stories of your conquests from the south all the way to Vesuvia. I think it would be more educational to hear them from the source.”

Lucio immediately perked up. “I’d thought you’d never ask-”

He prattled on for the rest of the session. Occasionally when he’d reached the inevitable end of his tall tale, Callisto would guide him into starting another.

“Count Lucio, sir, I’ve reached the stopping point for this session.” Lyra notified.

“Of course, of course.” Lucio waved off, finally shaking out the tension he built up from staying still for so long. He went to the dressing room and emerged not long after back in his gaudy clothes. “I hope to see you next session, Callisto.” Lucio bid her farewell as Lyra packed her stuff up.

Callisto finally relaxed, pinching the bridge of her nose in an attempt to calm herself down. Everything Lucio had said, everything he had cared about, it was all pointless. That man didn’t have a goddamn problem in the world, and his city is in ruins. And she had to call him a ‘worthy and great leader.’ All that man was worthy of is the fucking plague. But no, he hides in his lavish palace, having portraits done wearing enough gold to buy her a ship to get the fuck out of Vesuvia, he’s throwing parties in his palace that could be used to care for plague victims, and he doesn’t have a care in the fucking world.

“I told you, Valerius will be a breeze.” Lyra jokes.

She didn’t even have time to think as her rage burst out and she punched the nearest object as the light flashed bright before every light in the room went out. The clattering hatstand and bright flash made Lyra jump, and Callisto took a deep breath. “Sorry, that was out of line.”

A sad smile crossed Lyra’s face, illuminated only by the cloudy gray light. “Don’t worry about it. Why don’t you have dinner with me and Valerius tonight? I know he can be a little crass, but I can usually calm him down.”

“Thank you, Lyra.”

#nadia satrinava x oc #nadia satrinava #nadia x apprentice #nadia x callisto #oc: callisto #count lucio #julian devorak #asra alnazar #arcana visual novel #arcana fanfic #the arcana #consul valerius

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