#anyways i love hopeful steward

[pathologicalrunaway]

i saw that one tumblr post about how aviary cheapens the point of sky as a story (the civilisation is lost and all we know are only shadows of what was before; but aviary brings everyone back and we coexist now, instead of being two generations that were never supposed to meet) reposted on reddit a while ago and i have a couple of thoughts on this matter.

because one hand, i do agree that there was a bittersweetness in walking through a dead world that was lost. that aviary feels alive and the world is supposed to be dead. but i think a crucial aspect of this whole discourse (lore-wise) could lie in the first character aviary can be associated with. and this character — and their little village — do not really contradict the point of the game, but contribute to it

hopeful steward. they are, first things first, a child. like we are, as players. and children are often associated with hope for a better future, and this game is no exception. it's up to the children to bring light back, it's us and our connections that make sky a happy place. it's us that bring hope in the fact thay maybe, maybe not everything is over yet. that there's still something to admire, something to love, something to believe in.

steward is the one waiting in front of the village doors, they are the one showing us how to bring back the village, so it would make sense to assume that the village is their idea and, to an extent, their responsibility.

they are in charge of this silly little community like elders once were, but the elders fell. they made bad decisions that led to the world's destruction. this is mostly speculation, at least now, and we should wait for two embers to give us the whole picture, but it looks like the reason why aviary exists is because the world was on the verge of collapse and hopeful steward (and a couple more people) wanted — if not to prevent this — at least to try to save someone.

a second chance for the dying world.

they were hoping for a better future despite the inevitable doom. they had hope in the fact that, even in those dark times, the world would bounce back.

and their name says a lot about them. they wake up to see their home destroyed, their friends gone, the bells broken. the only thing alive is the child with a candle in front of them. but they don't succumb to despair, they keep faith, showing the newcomer around, explaining what happened.

they have no reason to believe that the kid that has just fallen fron the sky can restore light. they have no proof they are even able to do such things, that they are strong enough. they just hope.

and their hope pays back, eventually, after oh-so many losses. the world — and, most importantly, its people, — are saved. maybe not in the way any of them wanted but hey, life's tricky like that.

hopeful steward and their village refraim the point of the story, not destroy it. we spent years wandering in an empty kingdom haunted by the ghosts of what once were its people, not knowing what happened, or who they used to be, or if there was a way they could be happy again. and now we know that dark times don't last forever. trees grow back when people leave cities, animals return to where progress preciously exiled them from, and humanity bounces back. life is a cycle, and nothing just stays gone forever. good times come, eventually. with hope and friendship and love.

but it doesn't mean things are exactly the way they used to be, no. the realms are still destroyed. people look very different now. aviary village grows, but it's slow and painful and we are constantly reminded of how nothing is the same anymore (nesting guide looking wistfully at the picture, compassionate cellist and duets guide's dream coming true far too late). many go to the stars because this is an option now, and there is no guarantee the village's inhabitants will stay there forever, just like there was no guarantee back then that they would live there happily ever after.

and eden stayed the same. at the end of the day, all the loss and pain and mistakes of people there were before us is still here. it's just now we're stopping mourning the past and focus on the present instead

[melted-mercury]

reasons why I love the Sky community:

I was just at the Aviary parade and as Hopeful Steward walked round on their own with no other spirits following because there were no others in their season, I noticed loads of skykids following behind them so they wouldn't be walking alone

I love that skykid hivemind thing we have going on where we all collectively think "hey this thing is happening. wouldn't it be nice if everyone reacted to it by doing this?" and we know we can't make that happen alone but we all decide to do it anyway, and it does happen because we all did our little part in it

[tunastime]

Tha asskkkkkkssss

Since we are all dying about it could I get some Songbirds and Snakes :3 *pushes our ocs together*

"it's just how I remember..." / watching the rain fall (1134 words) (x)

Rain patters against the clay and wood roofs. Sheltered in the small patio alcove of their second story room, Archleah watches, the cool, wet air blowing across their face. The city, if one could call it such, was quiet aside from the rain and small chatter below, clear aside from the wafts of smoke that occasionally broke through the grey, late-afternoon air. In the breeze, the plants at their feet in their clay pots and the trees and the kept vines on balconies blow gently and soak in the much needed rain of early spring.

Archleah sighs a calming breath. In that same breath, they feel a tingling up from the base of their spine to the nape of their neck, hair standing on end. They shiver, swallow, turn with a confused expression.

The Serpent raises his eyebrows, smiling with their eyes as they squint. He blinks at them like a contented cat, tilting their head just so. As they wander quietly to the banister beside them, Arch turns their eyes back to the horizon. Warmth shudders up the space where electricity skipped across their back and shoulder blades. Magic—locate person, maybe.

Without the mask of the Serpent, the broken skew of their jaw is much more pronounced, casting an interesting silhouette as Archleah looks him over. If they forgot themselves, they could almost call it knightly—saintly, that helm. Thunder rumbles, low and basey, in the distance.

"Fancy seeing you," Archleah hums, leaning against the wooden banister of the curving porch. The rain has just started to make muddy footprints in the back garden of this hostel, where nobody can quite recognize their face. Dressed in loose, soft clothing, the normal, stately form of the Scarlet Magpie has been reduced to that of a mere traveler, with a well-used breastplate and well-burnished axe. What was it that a friend had said one time? Right. They were just Archleah. "I would have dressed appropriately if I knew you were coming."

"I'm not allowed to visit you unannounced?" they hum, tilting their head. His eyes, that deep, two-lidded gold, stay stuck on the horizon above the tile roofs, potted plants, black gravel streets. Archleah watches his jaw work as he seems to drag his tongue over the front of his teeth, tasting air.

"I like to make a good impression," Archleah says, leaning into their palm. "As your charge it's my duty."

They smile, letting their features soften as they watch the side of the Serpent's face. His eyes slide over as he seems to feel the gaze on him, and as quickly as their eyes meet, they narrow into slits.

"Cheeky," he grumbles, frowning. "I don't know why you like to watch so much. Or what. What are you seeing with those bird eyes?" The Serpent leans suddenly scrunching his nose as they meet face to face, snake-like eyes flicking over their expression. They grin, resisting the urge only just to knock their foreheads together. 

"Trying to figure out what you're doing here in this town in the feywild," they shrug, not backing down from the eyes of their steward on them. Seemingly satisfied with their answer, he draws back, casting their gaze back to Archleah as a whole, shrugging slightly.

"Touche."

Archleah snorts, the easy smile of before still lingering on their face. It feels easier than not to carry it most days, throw it around at every funny quip or interesting thought. What a funny thing the Serpent could be. And they didn't even know it half the time. 

“Just having some quiet time,” Arch says.

They let their eyes wander back to the rooftops as the Serpent falls silent. The rain makes puddles in the creases of the roofs, catching in carved wooden gutters and funneling down into rain gardens below, thin layers of gravel and sand and pea-stones, well rooted plants and shrubs drinking in the extra rain. The air smells and tastes like stone soaking in lakewater, like grass stretching for its own drink of rain. They take a long breath in, smelling petrichor. The Serpent makes a small sound in the quiet, leaning their folded arms against the banister. 

"The rain is just how I remember," they say softly. Arch raises their eyebrows. 

"Yeah?" They ask. When the Serpent hums in the back of their throat in response, Archleah smiles, leaning against their palm, chin in hand. "Tell me about it."

"Do you want to hear?" The Serpent says, tilting their head. 

"Yeah, of course," Archleah says. They straighten, taking in another long, deep breath of wet air. They can feel it in the back of their throat as they watch the roofs with their hands on their hips. It was the greatest comfort the forest could offer—even the sticky heat welcomed them like an embrace, reminding them of home. "Why don't I put on the kettle?" 

They turn back to the door. In the same movement, they catch the eye of the Serpent, slitted, yellow eyes following them as they move, as they pull their hair back from their face. They blink, owlish, studying the Serpent's expression. Even with a crooked jaw and a furrow to their brow, he looks at them with a softening, pleased look so right for his face. At least, as pleased as someone like the Serpent, like themselves, could offer. It always had a touch of his rueful nature, no matter the occasion. It’s one of the things Archleah liked the most about him. It was predictable.

“What?” they ask, trying to hold back a grin. “What’re you staring at me for?” 

The Serpent shakes their head. “Nothing,” they say. “Just… thank you.”

Archleah shrugs, just the smallest movement of their shoulders up and down, almost imperceptible if someone isn't watching close enough. The Serpent scrunches his nose, turning back to the cool rain, shoulders sinking as he watches. Archleah studies them for a moment, the way they relax, sink against the banister as they let their weight burden the railing. Arch tucks the stray hair behind their ears, opening the door into their small, warm room.

“You’re welcome,” they say, an affection coloring their tone. “I’ll bring you out a cup, hm? Then you can tell me.”

The Serpent nods. Curled over their elbows and against the dark wood of the landing, they look smaller than Archleah has ever felt him be. It’s a slightness that comes from knowing the person behind the facade of a god.

“Do you mind bringing me a coat?” The Serpent asks. Archleah hums.

“Of course, my serpent,” they say. They don’t see the Serpent smile and crush their cheek into the curve of their own shoulder, but Archleah sure feels the warmth curl in their chest like two hands cupping their heart. Thank goodness someone’s holding it carefully.

[tamayula-hl]

I have illustrated many Dad!Ominis, but as I have not yet published my headcanon on DadOmi, I would like to explain it in drawing and text because I am not good at English😳

In my headcanon, Ominis discussed this with his girlfriend, MC, while he was still at school, and they chose to drop the Gaunt name and elope together. The pair jumped ship on a steamer to the USA soon after graduation. As you know, the Gaunt family has ties to the USA, as the mother of the founder of the Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in the USA was born a Gaunt, and there is a Slytherin wand buried in the garden of that school.

(This is an illustration of that scene that I posted on Twitter in May, but there are lots of things I want to correct 😂)

They then started a new life together in the USA, where Ominis was lucky enough to get a job as an employee at MACUSA, which had just moved to New York and was short-staffed. (I have no idea of the details of how Ominis, under a pseudonym that presumably hides his Gaunt family origins, was hired as a permanent employee, and whether his obvious posh English could hide his identity in the US. Never mind the details!🤣)

And secondly, how Ominis became a father in the place where he eloped. In my personal opinion, he would surely be reluctant to leave offspring, even if he became a couple with the woman he loved. A witch named Rionach Steward, daughter of the founder of Ilvermorny School, has become so thick with Gaunt blood that she is rumoured to be a Parselmouth. She remained celibate for the rest of her life in order not to leave her cursed blood to future generations. Ominis is very serious and thoughtful and, like Rionach, would not want to leave the Gaunt blood flowing in his body to future generations.

Where Rionach and Ominis differ, however, is that he is a man. If Ominis were heterosexual and had a healthy body, it would be difficult for him to completely abstain from sexual desire for women. (As an aside, I think this dichotomy is the spice that makes Ominis' smut more attractive.)

Two young, loving people who are financially strapped and starved for entertainment are sure to indulge their carnal desires. Soon, they find out that MC is pregnant.

In other words, in my headcanon, ominis become fathers for the pathetic reason of contraceptive failure. I guess there are two sides to this, but of course I am convinced that Ominis is not the kind of irresponsible man who would run away from an unwanted pregnancy. Ominis will be very bewildered, but he will be cheerful in front of his pregnant wife and will support her with dedication, as in the manga and illustrations I posted the other day! During MC's pregnancy, Ominis will be repeatedly struck with anxiety, but as he sees his wife's belly growing bigger day by day, he will gradually develop paternal feelings for her. And after the birth of his first child, when he holds his baby for the first time, Ominis will be moved by the preciousness of the creature in his arms and the weight of life, and he will awaken as the best dad…!

I hope that Ominis, who became a father after unexpected events in his elopement, lives happily ever after, chewing on how precious a healthy family is😍.

Of course, it's all my headcanon, so I like different people's different ideas about Ominis' future! Anyway, I am happy as long as I see Ominis living a long and happy life..!

Thank you for reading my long story 🫶🫶🫶

A Japanese translation of the text is placed in undercut. (ほぼTwitterで書き散らかしていた妄想をまとめたものです。画像内の文章を和訳する元気はありませんでしたすみません…😂)

（機械翻訳にブチ込む用に書いた文章なので、ちょっと変ですがご容赦ください🙏）

私の脳内設定（headcanon）では、オミニスは在学中にガールフレンドであるMCと話し合って、Gauntの名を捨て、二人で駆け���ちすることを選びました。 二人は卒業してすぐにアメリカ行きの蒸気船に飛び乗りました。

その後二人はアメリカで新生活を始め、ニューヨークに移転したばかりで人手不足のMACUSAでオミニスは運良く職員としての仕事を手に入れました。 （おそらくGaunt家出身であることを隠している偽名のオミニスがどのように正社員として採用されたか、また、明らかなposh Englishを話す彼がアメリカで素性を隠しきれるかどうかについては、私は細かいことは全く考えていません。こまけえこたぁいいんだよ！）

ご存知の通り、アメリカのIlvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardryの創始者の母はゴーント家の生まれで、その学校の庭にはスリザリンの杖が埋まっているなど、Gaunt家とアメリカには縁があります

そして���に、駆け落ち先でオミニスがどのようにして父親になっていったかです。 私の個人的な意見ですが、彼はきっと愛する女性と夫婦になっても、子孫を残すことを嫌がるでしょう。 Ilvermorny Schoolの創設者の娘のRionach Stewardという魔女はParselmouthという噂があるほどGauntの血を濃く継いでしまいました。彼女は呪われた血を後世に残さないために生涯独身を貫いた。 オミニスはとても真面目で思慮深い性格なので、Rionachと同じように、彼の身体の中に流れるGauntの血を後世に残したくないと思うでしょう。

しかしRionachとオミニスが違うところは、彼が男性ということです。 Ominisが異性愛者で健康的な身体を持っていれば、女性に対する性欲を完全に断つというのは困難でしょう。 （余談ですが、この二律背反こそ、オミニスのsmutをより魅力的にさせるスパイスだと私は思います）

金銭的な余裕もなく娯楽に飢えた、若い愛し合う二人は、きっと肉欲に溺れるはずです。 そして間もなく、MCの妊娠が判明するのです。

つまり私のheadcanonでは、オミニスは避妊失敗という情けない理由で父親になります。 これについては賛否両論かと思いますが、もちろん、オミニスは望まぬ妊娠から逃げ出すような無責任な男ではないと私は確信しています。 オミニスは非常に困惑しながらも、妊娠中の妻の前では明るく振舞い、先日投稿したmangaやイラストのように献身的に彼女をサポートするでしょう！ MCの妊娠期間中、オミニスは何度も不安に襲われるでしょうが、日に日に大きくなる妻のお腹を見ていくうちに少しずつ父性が芽生える。 そして第一子が誕生後、初めて赤ちゃんを抱いた時に、オミニスは腕の中にある生き物の尊さと命の重みに感動し、最高のパパとして覚醒するのです…！！

駆け落ち先の予想外の出来事から父親になったOminisが、健全な家族がどれほど尊いものかを噛み締めて幸せに生きていてくれればと思います😍

もちろん、全て私のheadcanonなので、オミニスの将来については、色んな人の色んな考えも好きです！ とにかく私は、幸せに長生きしているオミニスが見れればそれで幸せなのです…！

長い文を読んでくれてありがとうございました🫶🫶🫶

[essenceofarda]

Tbh this is TOTALLY self serving, but I’m currently writing a 1920’s/ 30’s Agatha Christie AU for them and I would LOVE to see something along those lines in your style because everything you draw is stunning and amazing ok thanks I’ll shut up now 💛💛

(long-ish post! Scroll to through the 'read more' to see the fanart!)

I hope you know what you've done,,, this sketch request has single handedly started an obsessed with the concept of a 1930's middle earth eothiriel + Farawyn AU Agatha Christie au,, it has CONSUMED ME you hear me

So I sincerely hope you don't mind that I created a whole au of my own based on this prompt 😅

anyway.,,

Presenting!

With tensions between Gondor and Mordor rising, and war brewing on the horizon, the Steward of Gondor, Lord Denethor, sends his youngest son, Captain Faramir, to Rohan, in hopes of establishing a marriage alliance between the King of Rohan's nephew, Lord Éomer, and his own niece, Princess Lothíriel. Lothíriel, for her part, only agrees to the match if SHE can tag along with Faramir to aid in the marriage negotiations (with the clear intent of sabotaging any real attempts at marriage matching). However, not all is at is it seems in the Capitol of the Riddermark. King Theoden is a shadow of his old self, Lady Éowyn seems to be wasting away into misery, the crown prince is recently dead, and even more strange events keep happening, and the king's advisor Grima Wormtongue seems to be at the center of all of this. When a one of Éowyn's maids is found dead while Faramir and Lothíriel are visiting, it springs into motion a series of events that no one could have predicted. Lothíriel must don her amateur sleuth hat, as she begins to investigate--for not only has a murder occurred, but it appears to be of the supernatural kind...

Below: Lothiriel and Eomer

Above, Eowyn and Faramir!

Anyway, thank you SO much for sending this ask and delighting my brain. I love this au so much!

Also if you ended up posting that fic of yours i'm dying to read it 👀

[russellsppttemplates]

hey înes so i think my family forgot about my birthday which is today (just a rushed store bought cake) so can you write something about the grid surprising the reader who is a driver to whichever team you choose 🥹

Note: happy birthday, dear! ✨️I hope you had a lovely day 🥳

"Do you think she'll like it? I got the prettiest cake they had in there", Charles said as he set the box on top of the table.

"Really? That was the nicest one there?", Lewis asked as he looked at the baked good from all angles.

"I could've baked something that looked a little bit better", Pierre offered.

"Could you?", Carlos slapped the French man's back.

"I wouldn't eat anything baked by any of you", Lando chirped in, "where's Oscar? He walked here with me! I've lost him already", he muttered.

"Oscar is the one in charge of bringing Y/N here - Mick said it would be too suspicious if I walked with her", Max offered.

"I also got her the present we agreed on", Lance set the bag next to the cake.

"I'm sure someone did, but just in case - do we have candles?", George butted in.

The groans leaving everyone's mouth was enough to let him know no one did.

"Candles are overrated, anyway", Daniel tried to keep the humour.

"Oscar and Y/N are on their way here - they just stopped to talk to Toto", Mick said as he got inside.

When you walked up with Oscar into the meeting room, you were expecting the stewards to be mad at you, "I think we're late, Oscar!", but you were met instead with cheers and balloons thrown at your face.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, Y/N!", they all cheered as you looked at all your friends gathered in the same room.

"We still wanted to make something special between us without the team recording and all of that", your teammate Max said as he showed you the cake, "it's not homemade and we're not sure how good it is, but it's the thought that counts?", he squinted.

"This is amazing, guys, truly", you cooed, "I bet it tastes amazing - even if those colours are not natural on the slightest", you took some of the bright red filling with your finger and licked it.

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

[unserenedreaming]

on the "Sansa being the true loner of the Starks"

I just saw a post saying that Sansa is the 'odd one out' amongst the Starks because she's surrounded by her brothers and a tomboyish sister (Arya). It is true that she is surrounded by brothers and a sister who rejects the patriarchal roles of a woman (Arya) but she is by no means a loner.

The two other named young noblewomen in Winterfell are Jeyne Poole and Beth Cassel. Jeyne is the closest thing to a best friend for Sansa, while Beth is described more as a hanger-on than an actual friend. Jeyne strived to make Sansa happy, often at Arya's expense: Jeyne would often whinny like a horse or call Arya Horseface when Arya would walk by. When Mycah is unjustly killed by the Hound, Jeyne taunts Arya by telling her the Hound cut Mycah into so many little pieces that his own father assumed it was a bag of meat to eat. Jeyne Poole was the daughter of Winterfell's steward. Arya was the daughter of Lord Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North. In my opinion, it is only by her close friendship with the other daughter of Lord Stark that Jeyne feels emboldened enough to make such a comment.

And then let's talk about Catelyn. There is no denying that Catelyn Stark loved each and every one of her children with the fury of a thousand suns. In fact, the older I get, the more I understand her (excluding her treatment of Jon which deserves an essay all on its own) She saw Sansa as the perfect daughter:

"Sansa was a lady at 3, always so courteous and eager to please. She will grow into a woman far more beautiful than I ever was, you can see that." These are words from Catelyn Stark about her elder daughter.

"Arya was a trial, it must be said. Half a boy and half a wolf pup. Forbid her anything and it became her heart’s desire. She had Ned’s long face, and brown hair that always looked as though a bird had been nesting in it. I despaired of ever making a lady of her. She collected scabs as other girls collected dolls, and would say anything that came into her head." These thoughts from Catelyn Stark about her younger daughter.

Sansa fit into the traditional patriarchal view of what a noble woman was supposed to be, which made her easier to manage for Catelyn. Arya does not.

The only person that Arya truly, honestly and deeply feels akin to is Jon. This is not me saying that the only person who loved Arya was Jon. Her family loved her deeply. But I am examining the POV of Arya and Sansa.

Arya loves and gets along with her siblings, but she is an outsider compared to them: they all have the red hair and blue eyes of the Tully's. Only Jon shares the looks of the Starks. This to me has always been the most obvious divide; the physical differences between Robb, Sansa, Bran, & Rickon and Jon & Arya. Jon and Arya have always relied on each other more than anyone else, pre-canon or into ADWD.

To wrap this rambling post up, I disagree that Sansa was considered an outsider/the odd one out in the Stark family. In truth, that position doesn't even belong to Arya, though she is the odd one out amongst the trueborn Starks. It belongs to Jon and Theon. Both are boys who desperately want to be Stark children but can never be, and their subsequent actions, both positive (Jon) and negative (Theon) are direct results of that desire and lack of result.

AND AGAIN, THIS IS NOT AN ATTACK ON SANSA. This is a response to a comment I saw from a (presumed by me) Stansa. Sansa absolutely deals with isolation in the series as the books goes on as a captive in Kings Landing. All the Starlkings do as they are separated across the continent and eventually Essos (Arya).

Anyways, hope this wasn't too much of a pain to read, I'm buzzed right now. Love Y'all.

[arvandus]

Love and Duty - Chapter 3

Banner background made by me; do not copy or distribute without permission.

OVERALL FIC WARNINGS: cisfem!Reader; canon adjacent (i.e., loosely-based); 18+ (Minors and ageless blogs DNI!); NSFW in future chapters; violence in future chapters (not against MC); deceit/lying; fake relationship (one-sided); pining; angst with a happy ending.

Chapter 2 (tumblr)

Chapter 3 on AO3

Love and Duty Chapter 3

wc: 6,566

You gave Diavolo your answer and you stayed for dessert.  At the end of the evening, Barbatos escorted you out of the castle.  You couldn’t hide the disappointment in your eyes as he bowed and kissed the back of your hand to bid you good night.  No doubt you’d been hoping for a more personal good night kiss before stepping out into the evening air, but Barbatos couldn’t bring himself to do it.  He already had to pretend earlier this evening, and not just with a kiss. 

Your question had taken him by surprise and he’d been forced to answer in a way that wouldn’t ruin everything. He was grateful that you’d phrased the question in such a way that allowed him to find a bit of truth to coat his silver tongue.

Do I have you?

You did have him, he reassured himself.  You had his friendship, his trust, his support. 

He didn’t want you to fail; and not just for the sake of peace, but for your own well-being.  After all, even though he did not reciprocate the strength of your affections, that did not mean that he didn’t care at all.

The House of Lords’ treatment of you was unfair; anyone could see it.  And yet you chose to meet their prejudice with determination, grace, and stubbornness.  How could Barbatos not respect such strength?  But strength didn’t make you unbreakable.  So how could he not take notice of the way your duties weighed on your shoulders and suppressed your smile?  How could he see your suffering and not want to help alleviate it?

Regardless of the nature of your relationship together, Barbatos would be there to support you and offer guidance.  He would have done so anyway, had the two of you remained friends, and he saw no reason to not do so now, despite the new circumstances.

And maybe, secretly for him, helping you through this could serve as his own penance for the wrong he was committing; a silent apology for a betrayal that you would hopefully remain forever unaware of.

How badly he wished things were different... how badly he wished he’d had more time to make his choice.  How badly he wished he could have glimpsed into the future for guidance before risking not only his friendship with you, but the young prince’s future.

But he knew doing so would prove more or less fruitless.  His abilities, while seemingly limitless, had their own restrictions, particularly when it came to himself.  Barbatos suspected that it had something to do with being able to exist separate from the timelines; but no matter how many times he tried to look at himself in the timelines, it was always blank, like a blind spot in his mind.  It was akin to how one could easily see the faces of others but could not see their own without a mirror.  If he had been able to foresee his own future, his past self wouldn’t have made the mistakes he made, and he wouldn’t be here now, trying to correct them.

The more decisions Barbatos acted on, the blurrier the future around him became. And the more he involved himself, the more individuals directly impacted by those decisions became blurred themselves.  What resulted was a tapestry of time, of infinite pasts and futures, littered with dark holes. It was as if he were a moth, eating his way through the fabric, weakening its strength.

It was the very reason why Barbatos kept himself as a supporting role to the others. And it was the very reason why he only involved himself in major affairs if Diavolo ordered it.  Yes, he tutored the young prince and kept him in line, as any royal butler and steward was expected to do; but any and all decisions regarding the future of the Devildom were conducted by Diavolo alone.

Barbatos had lived long enough to grow accustomed to his limitations. He learned how to look for the blind spots within the different futures and use them as clues. It never told him directly what choices to make, but it did give him an idea of where he was meant to be.  He learned to live in the safe spaces, occupying the dark pockets of timelines that maintained their bright, clear futures.  It was how he’d found his place at Diavolo’s side, the reason he’d let the young prince lure him into the castle with the promise of rare tea so many millennia ago.

But this... he had no memory of this, despite how he had cross-checked the timelines repeatedly for Diavolo before the prince made his long-term plans. Was it because you’d had your own adventures with being yanked across multiple timelines and places? Were you touched too many times by his ability, moved from thread to thread, that now your own path was blurring like his own? Or was it something else entirely?

Either way, for the first time in thousands of years, Barbatos felt the irritation of his own restrictions. If he’d been able to see this coming, he could have prepared for it.  But he didn’t, and now here he was, trapped in a lie that he didn’t want to have any part in.

He had a plan, of course... a way to navigate out of these choppy, unchartered waters with minimal damage.  It would have to be carried out prudently, succinctly, like carrying a porcelain teacup filled to the brim without spilling.  Fortunately, his mind was as careful as his hands.  If conducted properly, not only would the future of peace remain secure, but he will not have to sacrifice your friendship.

...Hopefully.

But hope was a fleeting thing, short-lived on wishes and easily breakable by the harsh reality of words.

And no words cut through Barbatos’s fortress of a mind like the young master’s upon his return.

“Barbatos, I believe we should talk.”

Barbatos’s face remained schooled in neutrality, but he paused for the briefest moment.  It was enough to make the prince furrow his brow ever so slightly, the minuscule crack in the butler’s façade enough to confirm Diavolo’s rising suspicions.  Barbatos took it in stride as he calmly entered Diavolo’s drawing room.  After all, he was his loyal servant and oldest confidant. There were no secrets between them, their trust in each other absolute.

“Where would you like me to begin, my lord?”

Diavolo motioned for Barbatos to take a seat.  The butler acquiesced, his back straight and knees drawn closed with his fingers folded formally in his lap.

“How about from the beginning?” Diavolo replied.  “Start with the night of the ball.”

Barbatos’s mouth quirked into a small smile.  “You suspected even then?”

“There were signs, but I wanted to wait until tonight to be sure.”

“It pleases me to see that your powers of observation remain so keen.”

“I have had an excellent tutor,” Diavolo smirked.  “I don’t think anyone else noticed the subtleties that night except for myself.  But tonight was more obvious, particularly with her.  I would like to understand the situation as it stands now.”

“I thought you wanted to hear the story from the beginning,” Barbatos replied with a tilt of his head.  “Would you like me to discuss the past or the present?”

Diavolo narrowed his eyes. “Now is not the time for games, Barbatos.”

“You know as well as I that I do not play games, young master.  This is a teaching moment, as every moment is.  How you opt to question me will impact the type of information you receive, which will in turn influence your understanding and your opinion.”

However, this was more than just a teaching moment, too; it was a test.  Not just for how Diavolo chose to interrogate, but for seeing how willing he was to dirty his own hands, to bear the mantel of responsibility no matter how tarnished.  Ask about tonight’s dinner only, and Barbatos could play it off as a budding romance, a temporary fling, with the implication that he will handle the situation without the prince’s involvement.  That would allow the prince to play to ignorance should the situation derail in the future. But ask about the night of the ball, and the whole truth will be laid bare, a burden that would be shared between the two of them moving forward.

Fortunately, Barbatos raised him well.

Diavolo sighed and pressed his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose.  “Very well.  From the beginning, then.”

Barbatos nodded.  “As you wish, young master.”

He then began to recount the events of that first night in the piano room.

Barbatos kept the information to only the most relevant facts.  He omitted the song you played on the piano, he omitted the details of your frustrations with the brothers, and he omitted exactly how he romanced you.  He provided only the fact that you had been at your limit with your responsibilities and that the incident with Mammon and Asmodeus had pushed you beyond those limits.  He emphasized your desire to abandon your many positions and run back to the human realm.  It was in this delicate, fragile state that you had confessed your feelings for him, which forced him into making a very important decision.

As Barbatos spoke, Diavolo’s eyes narrowed, his voice grunted, his head nodded.  He listened silently, his fingers steepled and pressed against his lips.

When Barbatos ended with the farewell earlier in the evening, Diavolo remained silent for a long moment.

“I see...” he finally muttered.  “I understand the decision; it might not have been the one I would have made, but I understand it nonetheless.”

Barbatos nodded in understanding.  He expected as much from the young prince; he always did have a dislike for lies thanks to his unique ability to see through them.  It made the awareness of the wounds they caused all the more intimate.

Avoid answers, yes.  Give noncommittal or enigmatic responses, acceptable. Omitting information, necessary.  But lies...

Lies were messy.

“Ah, how I wish I didn’t ask...” the prince muttered.  His golden eyes lifted to meet Barbatos’s placid green.  “I’m sure you’re also aware of the risks this presents us. Not just if she finds out that you – we’re – lying, but if anyone of note happens to see the two of you together...”

“Of course, young master.  I will proceed with the utmost caution.”

“Is there any value in using your abilities for guidance?”

Barbatos fell silent for a moment, his mouth pressing into a thin line.  He lowered his head the slightest fraction.  “I don’t think so.  I’ve explained to you before how I am unable to see my own future.  By proxy, I will be unable to see hers as well now that our paths are so intertwined.”

“I know you won’t be able to see her clearly anymore, but what about the realms themselves? What about the Devildom?”

“The various potential futures remain the same, young master.  That much is unchanged, as it’s already been seen.  But that gives us little to work with, as there are multiple possible outcomes, some less desirable than others. The deciding factor of what happens in this timeline will depend primarily on her influence.  If I cannot observe her, then I cannot anticipate the proper course.”

“Like knowing where the finish line is, but not knowing the route to get there.”

“Precisely.  The chances of her getting ‘lost’ are now much greater than before. Although, she may have already been veering off course prior to my influence...”

“How so?”

Barbatos was silent for a moment as he reflected back, his gaze distant.  “The way she was that night. I’d never seen her so...”

“Tired?”

“Hopeless.”

Diavolo let out a low, dissatisfied hum, his chin in his fingers as his eyes glazed over in pensive thought. “I had been noticing a shift in her as of late, but I had hoped it wasn’t so serious.  You said yourself that humans are often emotional.  Wasn’t there a chance that she was lost in the moment and would recover given time?”

“Yes,” Barbatos replied.  “And I was willing to let it play out as such, despite my concerns.  However, any possibility for that to happen was eliminated as soon as she confessed her feelings for me.  Had I refused her my lord, I truly do think she would have abandoned everything.  Being exhausted by one’s duties is one thing.  But having one’s heart broken in a moment of vulnerability is another entirely.”

Diavolo hummed and leaned back into his seat, his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes to the ceiling. “I see, I see... and now here we are.  Are you sure your ability won’t work? Is there really nothing that can be done? You know I dislike leaving these things to chance, Barbatos.”

The risk of the prince’s disapproval was a cut to Barbatos’s pride; disappointing him was something Barbatos took great personal offense to.  He released a resigned sigh.

“I will check if you’d like me to, young master. Although I am certain the results will not be very fruitful.”

“Please do. Even if nothing comes of it, I must exhaust all avenues of potential knowledge before we determine how to proceed.”

Barbatos stood and bowed.  “Very well.  I will return promptly.”

Diavolo watched as the space behind Barbatos opened up into black smoky tendrils. They wrapped around him like a cloak and then he was gone.  Once the room was empty, Diavolo braced his forehead against his interlaced fingers, his thumbs at his temples.

“Please let him find something...” he muttered to himself.

—

The black was endless.  For anyone else, it would have been entirely unnerving if not panic-inducing.  For Barbatos however, it felt familiar, in the way one’s homeland felt familiar after not setting foot on its soil for so long.  Beneath his feet he felt hard surface, and from it he could sense how it led off to infinite walkways. And yet, it was a space filled with contradiction as there was no up or down, or side to side.  There was only the Here and the There, the Now and the Not Now. Barbatos’s feet began to walk slowly, carefully.  It wasn’t so much a risk of falling, but that simply he had to remain focused on where he came from and where he wanted to go.  As he walked, the air hummed with power, and he stretched out his hands, fingers splayed, as if caressing invisible grass in an invisible field.

He could feel them.... the multitude of threads belonging to countless souls, stretching infinite.  They hummed with life, twisting together with one another and then parting outward as innumerable individuals were born together, lived together, died together.  In and out the threads weaved, creating infinite ropes of fate, making up the Tapestry of Time upon which Barbatos navigated.  They were taut, vibrating like music notes that couldn’t be heard, in a symphony that played for no one.

No one but himself.

He felt the distinct snap of a timeline being cut, reaching its end.  It wasn’t unusual... not all timelines led to happy endings, the worlds within collapsing on themselves.  Still, it left a dull ache in him, as if some part of him had been lost, gone forever like a boat cut from its mooring.

His footsteps finally slowed to a halt, and he stared in front of him into the blackness. He’d gone back just far enough to revisit the beginning, where he was forced to make his decision a few nights prior.  His hands came up in front of him and he parted the air with open palms and long, slender fingers. It was as if he’d taken the rope of time and unraveled it, individually laid out the threads that made it so that he may seek out your thread, the one kissed with golden light and thrumming with power.  The space before him began to ripple and shimmer, light being borne from nothing but simply his will to See.

Light faded to colors and shapes, countless images entering his mind simultaneously, and yet he understood all of them as if he’d watched them individually. Not that it mattered one way or another; time had no meaning here. He could linger as long as he needed to and then return to the When and Where he had left.

Barbatos’s eyes narrowed as he watched.

He saw the moment of where the demonus had spilled all over you, watched as you left the ballroom.  But the waters muddied after that, no doubt due to his own influence. Your golden thread had gone dark, overshadowed by his own.  The only sign of its presence was the steady hum of power that your soul emanated.

He tried to follow the dark strands, to see where they led, waiting for them to clear.  Some cleared quickly, his influence in your life vanishing, and he suspected that those were the timelines where he had been honest with you.  He looked closer, drank in their stories to confirm you back in the human world, alone and heartbroken.  And the Devildom?  Barbatos pulled the threads back together, zooming out to see beyond your human life.  A multitude of futures lay ahead, but as he suspected, most of them were bad; the failure of the exchange program, the three worlds returning to their isolation and prejudice...

He returned to the beginning, and followed the threads that remained dark, shrouded in mystery.  They were invisible roads that bore no street signs or streetlamps, dark pathways that left him blind.

On and on they all went, branching, breaking into more and more infinite possibilities.  In some of them that familiar warm hum of your thread was cut short, leaving empty cold in its wake.  In those moments, he knew your life had ended, and yet he couldn’t learn why, his influence too great, his life too entangled with yours.  It left a heavy sense of unease, a fear of the unknown that he didn’t often experience.

Farther and farther he searched.  Now the threads of life started to split, with some continuing out into that never-ending darkness with their secrets wrapped tight by decisions he had yet to make, and others finally becoming visible.  With relief, he pulled them close, searched their depths.

You were there, alive but alone.  And you weren’t in the Devildom anymore. You were back in the human realm, with a heavy sadness in your eyes.

And the realms...?

Once again locked in stagnation.

Barbatos’s jaw clenched.

He returned to the other threads, the ones that were still shrouded, and yet they went on and on, cloaked in darkness. How long did he remain entangled with you?  What happened in those threads that kept him by your side so intricately for so long?

They were questions that would never receive answers, not until he lived them and learned it in those moments.

Again, he widened his view, took in the bigger picture of the futures that were possible.  They were hazy, but they were there, and it was the reassurance he needed.  There was hope in them, some of them ending in success while others did not.  But there was no way to know for certain which future the present would lead to, the power of his presence hiding far too much for far too long.

For a cold, lonely, tense moment, Barbatos froze, dumbfounded.

Was this it? Were these his only options now? Either a future of failure or a future of ambiguity?

No, there had to be more.  If need be, there was still the original paths, the ones he’d traced out millennia ago when the prince was first laying out his plans.

He returned to the beginning again and searched.

And searched.

There were countless variations of how that night’s events transpired.  In some of them you were left alone, and you eventually went home to nurse your wounded spirit.  In others, one of the brothers found you, each having their own variations of how they approached you in the privacy of that piano room.  Even Simeon went to you in some of the timelines, and Solomon...

But what surprised Barbatos the most was how so many of the variations faded into that oh-so-familiar darkness.  Barbatos himself must have been the one to find you the most, and it was a curiosity he found himself lingering on.  From a practical standpoint, it made sense as he knew the castle better than anyone else.

But there was also a small sense of... warmth. After all, you didn’t venture out to the royal gardens, or walk the quiet late-night streets of the Devildom, or return to the House of Lamentation.  Instead, you went to the piano room, where the memory of your time with him brought you comfort. 

It was his growing friendship with you that allowed him to find you so many times in the first place.

The faintest hint of selfish pride flared within him, and Barbatos froze for a moment.

It wasn’t often that his Sins presented themselves so noticeably. In fact, he’d learned long ago to keep such imperfections under tight control.  To have them stir now of all times...

Strange.

But it vanished as quickly as it came, so he returned his attention to the threads before him.

All at once, he watched, learned, understood.

In most instances, at least the ones he could see that were free of his influence, you stayed in the Devildom.  The emotional turmoil you suffered that evening waned by morning and was later quelled by the brothers’ sincere apologies and kind gestures. 

It was just as Diavolo had said.  Barbatos took comfort in knowing that the prince knew your spirit so well.

Barbatos scanned the infinite spiderweb of visible futures, futures where he played his role as he was intended to, minimal and from the sidelines, small pockets of dark that blurred the edges around the others, Diavolo especially.  And you were there too, the light to Barbatos’s shadow, twining with everyone else’s threads, strengthening the bonds.

His eyes narrowed the further he looked.

You stayed, but in far too many of the timelines you suffered, alone and overwhelmed.  In some of them, you even buckled, and so did the exchange program.

Barbatos couldn’t help but wonder about you in this timeline, emotionally drained and mentally fragile.  Was that to be your future?  Would you break under the heavy weight of prejudice and politics?

Barbatos’s gaze went even further, following the various branches, and warm relief washed over him.

There was still hope.  Not all the futures ended in loneliness and failure. In many of them, you succeeded. It was often ones where you found love in another, where the support of a partner, or even partners, helped to ease your burden.

They were still here... the futures he’d seen so long ago when assisting the young master in plotting out his path for peace, bright and untarnished.  It worried Barbatos that it took him so long to locate them, but he was relieved to see them still intact, still a possibility within the great web.

The relief was short-lived as he pondered their significance.

Should this situation with you fail and take the young master’s vision with it, then Barbatos knew he would have to choose one of these timelines, something safe where his influence didn’t taint the grand plan.  That route would become the Primary, the one that everyone would walk moving forward.  It would remain the present, but it would be borne from a different past where different decisions were made.

In that sense, the you of this thread and everyone else would cease to exist.

The souls would remain the same, as souls were infinite by nature and occupied all timelines simultaneously during their lifespan.  But deletion of a pathway was the deletion of memories, memories made beyond the point of junction where the severing would occur.  Everyone’s spirit would remain the same, but their minds would forget, replaced with the experiences of a different path filled with different decisions.

Everyone would forget... except for Barbatos.  He would remain untouched, remember all of it. He alone would hold the memories of a past that no longer existed; moments of joy, times of sadness, periods of growth.  He’d remember his failures, too; the decisions he made that were the catalyst to losing yet another pathway.

That old, familiar empty ache crept into his chest, settling between his ribs. It was a sadness that never really left him, a burden he had to bear for being who and what he was. He acknowledged its presence and then promptly pushed it back to its resting place within himself, cataloguing it with all of the other countless times he had, in some way, lost those he cared for.

It couldn’t be helped.  Duty first. If the prince ordered it, he would obey.

He stared at the stories of past, present and future a moment longer.  Then he slowly, gently swiped his fingers across the space in front of him.  The timelines rippled, the images faded back into blackness.  There was nothing left to gain here.

---

Barbatos was only gone a moment before he reappeared.  Diavolo looked up at him from his seat with curious golden eyes.

“Well? Did you find anything?”

“As I suspected, young master.  The future you desire remains intact; however, I’m unable to see a clear path to it.”

“Hmm. I see...” Diavolo replied pensively, his gaze distant.  Barbatos’s lingering silence hovered, making the air thick between them, and Diavolo looked back up at him.  “....what is it?”

Barbatos’s brow creased.  “The future you desire remains... however, there are a great many opportunities for the current path to go astray.”

“And, because of your involvement, you’re unable to tell which actions you will need to take to get us to the right finish line.”

“That is correct.”

“Well,” he sighed, “that is quite a conundrum.”

Barbatos’s face fell into melancholy.  “I sincerely apologize, my lord. Had I known—”

Diavolo held up his hand and shook his head.  “There was no way to know, Barbatos.”

“If I had not volunteered to find her—”

“Then I would have sent you anyway.  Besides, I granted you permission.  If anyone is to blame for this, let it be me.  Were you able to see what would have happened if you refused her?”

“Not initially.  But in some timelines our threads parted shortly after that night, which I suspect was the result of such a decision.  Once I was no longer present, I was able to observe.  She returned to the human realm.”

“Permanently?”

“Yes, although she maintained relations with the celestial realm thereafter, and the brothers opted to visit her from time to time.”

“And the exchange program?”

Barbatos’s only response was a heavy silence and the most subtle shake of his head.  Diavolo hummed.

“I see.  Well, at least you can take comfort in knowing that you made the correct decision given the situation.”

“Yes, young master.”

“You don’t sound very relieved.”

Barbatos finally returned to his seat on the sofa, the weight of his guilt too great. This time, he allowed his professional poise to fall away, allowing himself a quiet moment of vulnerability in the prince’s presence in the form of downcast eyes and heavy shoulders.

“The knowledge, while helpful, does not solve our current predicament.  It seems that in many cases, her and I remain closely tied after her confession.  It makes much of the future... unpredictable.”

“Which will make it nearly impossible to navigate.”

“That is correct.”

Diavolo went quiet for a moment, his chin in his fingers.  His golden eyes went from pensive to troubled.  “Can it be undone? If we end up on the wrong path, can it be replaced?”

“Of course, young master.  Whatever you desire.”

Diavolo nodded.  “Good. That is good.  We could select a timeline where someone else retrieved her that night instead of you. Then this whole situation may be avoided.”

Barbatos knew his young master would come to such a conclusion, and yet hearing the words from his mouth made his skin tingle, a chill running down his spine.  He loathed the subconscious resistance that pushed against the locked door of his mind, and he forced it back with a subtle, inhaled breath through his nose.

He had to remain impartial.  He was devoted to the prince entirely, and so he must not withhold any knowledge that can impact success.

“On the contrary, my lord,” he said slowly, “the chances of success from that point were adequate, but not as reliable as they once were.  In many of them she remained isolated, and I can’t help but wonder if it may have been due to her unspoken feelings for me.  If you want to properly secure the future you seek, then it may be best to replace it with a timeline that branches off even earlier.”

Diavolo’s throat rumbled low, his gaze dark, and Barbatos knew he did not enjoy where this was going any more than Barbatos did.

“How early would you recommend?” he finally asked.

“To before she developed feelings for me in the first place.  Granted, we have no way of knowing for sure when that was.  But her and I had begun to spend more time together over the past six months. So I believe selecting a timeline that breaks off to prior that would be sufficient.”

Diavolo’s eyes snapped up to Barbatos’s, his eyebrows raised.  “Six months??” his expression neutralized as his gaze dropped and grew distant.  “That is quite a difference indeed.”

A heavy silence followed, neither demon wanting to move forward with such a permanent decision, and yet the threat of failure loomed like a storm on the distant horizon.

Diavolo let out a long sigh and returned his eyes to Barbatos.  “Tell me... What would you like to do?”

Barbatos stared at him, noting the subtle softness in his expression. His features lost some of their sharpness, his eyebrows upturned at the corners in silent worry.

His familial love for Barbatos was impacting his reasoning, shifting him from responsible ruler to soft-hearted youth.

Barbatos would have none of it. He refused to let his young master jeopardize everything for the sake of him.

Even so, the next words he spoke were far more difficult to say than he had anticipated.

“If we are to err on the side of caution, then I would recommend replacing this timeline with a safer option.”

Diavolo’s strong jaw set in a stubborn jut, his gaze piercing.  “I did not ask for your recommendation, Barbatos. I asked for what you wanted.”

Barbatos frowned.  “Young master, what I want or don’t want is irrelevant. Not with so much at stake.”

“I am perfectly aware of what is at stake.  However, I don’t think this situation requires such drastic measures just yet.  You yourself stated the future is still possible, even if we may not know exactly how to get there.  And how this would impact you is very much relevant, at least to me.”

“You are letting sentiment cloud your judgment.”

“Perhaps...” Diavolo admitted. “But unlike you, I don’t see it as a bad thing.  The happiness of my citizens is my responsibility, and that includes you as well, Barbatos.”

“Your success is all the happiness I need, young master.”

Diavolo gave a wear sigh and broke his eye contact to stare down at his intertwined fingers.

“You say that, and yet... I know what this will cost you. It’s a loss that no one else will suffer once the changes are made, not even myself.  That hardly seems fair.  And since you are the only one who will pay that price, I think that what you want is a valid question.  So I ask you again, Barbatos.  What would you like to do?”

Diavolo knew everything there was to know about Barbatos’s abilities; he had to in order to be able to utilize the butler’s unique skills to their maximum potential.  It was a knowledge that Barbatos had shared willingly, once he knew the prince was ready for such responsibility. 

Never before had Barbatos regretted sharing the details of his powers... until now. 

Because Prince Diavolo was right.  Barbatos had gone through this many times, and yet the pain of each remained. And, he supposed, in some ways it wasn’t fair. But fairness was not something he sought for himself; not after the wrongs he’d done across so many lifetimes. 

The prince’s love for him felt undeserved, and yet he cherished it just the same.

Barbatos was silent for a long moment.  “You are far too soft, young master.”

“As you always tell me,” Diavolo smiled.

Barbatos couldn’t help but wonder what made the young prince so stubborn, his moral compass so resolute.  But for the first time in a long time, Barbatos allowed himself to reflect on his own desires, lured by the promise that what he wanted and what his prince wanted could be one and the same.

Barbatos sighed. “Very well. I would like to keep along this path and try to salvage the current situation.”

Diavolo’s smile went from wry amusement to beaming joy.  “Great! Then it’s settled-”

“Not quite,” Barbatos interrupted, his eyes narrowed.  “We must discuss what will happen if I should fail.”

Diavolo gave a roll of his eyes.  “I believe that goes without saying, but very well. If you do fail, then rest assured, we will remedy the situation by replacing this path with a different one. There. Does that help to ease your worries?”

Barbatos allowed himself a small smile.  “It does.”

“Splendid.  Because I don’t think you’ll fail anyway.”

“It flatters me that you hold me in such high regard, young master.”

“You are always the one with a plan, are you not?” Diavolo teased with a raise of his eyebrow.  Then his amusement faded briefly to reveal the worry beneath.  “You... do have a plan, yes?”

Now Barbatos did smile.  “Of course. As I said before, there are many branches ahead of us where my thread remains intertwined with hers for longer than expected.  However, this can mean many things.  It can mean that this false relationship goes on for some time, possibly even years.  Or, it could mean that we come to an end amicably, after which I remain heavily involved in her life on a platonic level until such a time that I can naturally fade myself back.  That would be the ideal outcome.”

Diavolo hummed. “End amicably... and how do you plan to do that?”

 “Time, young master.”

“Time?”

Barbatos nodded. “Yes. You know better than anyone how many responsibilities I carry.  It leaves very little room for much else. Add in the pressures of secrecy, and I’m certain she will grow weary of me soon enough once this initial phase of excitement ends.”

Diavolo’s golden eyes glittered. “I see. So you plan to run out the clock, so to speak, rather than putting an end to it directly.”

Barbatos nodded again in affirmation.  “The only way for this to end with minimal damage is if she is the one to end it. It must be her idea. It’s the best way to ensure her ability to move on and find someone more suited for her in the future.”

“Are you sure that will work? You know how stubborn she can be...”

“Yes... she can be quite patient, and persistent to boot.  However, humans’ lives are short.  I’m certain that at some point, she will recognize that her years are being wasted in a secret relationship that can never fully develop.  Not to any fault of our own, but to the cruelness of circumstance.”

The worry returned to Diavolo’s eyes as he stared at Barbatos.  “And if this plan of yours does take years? Or, worse, what if she never gives up? What then?”

“Then I will remain with her, whether it be a year or a human lifetime.  You may consider it my penance for my error. However, I don’t anticipate that it will last that long.”

“What makes you so sure?”

There was a quiet pause as Barbatos gathered his words carefully.  “I do not take joy in this deceit, young master.  In fact, I find it quite troubling.  I may not be able to return her feelings with the same ferocity, but I do value her and respect her.”

Something flashed in Diavolo’s eyes, but it was brief, gone in an instant. “You care for her.”

Barbatos found the look discomforting and averted his eyes to the fireplace where the flames danced.  “On a platonic level, yes.  As such, I will not take advantage of her. And I suspect she will only wait for so long before the lack of intimacy between us becomes a problem too big to ignore.”

Diavolo joined Barbatos in staring at the fire.  “I see. And you will use the excuse of your busy schedule and the danger of prying eyes as a way to avoid such situations.”

“Precisely.”

Diavolo gave a tired, drawn-out groan and slouched back into his chair, his eyes closed.  “It all sounds very complicated. It makes me exhausted just hearing about it.” His eyes opened and fresh mirth danced in them.  “I feel it would have almost been easier if you actually did have feelings for her. Then we’d only have to worry about keeping the relationship private from others, rather than lying to her as well.”

Barbatos’s expression soured.  “Do not joke of such things, young master.”

Diavolo barked a laugh. “You speak as if falling in love would be a bad thing!”

Barbatos could barely suppress the urge to roll his eyes.  “Political complications aside, such a thing would be more burden than blessing. It would distract from my duties and require time that I do not have.”

“Perhaps some distraction would be good for you,” the prince winked.

Barbatos’s smile turned icy.  “If this is your way of trying to get out of doing your paperwork, then it is a poor attempt indeed.  I assure you, young master. My loyalty and focus lies entirely with you.”

“Yes, I was afraid you’d say that...” Diavolo threw his arms up dramatically. “Very well, have it your way then. Keep yourself isolated and lonely forever.”

A bit of an exaggeration, considering how often Barbatos found himself in the company of others. A small, dry smile curled the corners of his lips, never reaching his eyes.

“Thank you, my lord.  Now, the hour is late.  I do believe it is time for me to prepare your bath.”

“Yes, please.”

Barbatos left the drawing room to begin preparations. As soon as he was out of earshot of Diavolo, he let out a deep sigh as the weight of dread eased slightly from his chest, no longer suffocating.  The knowledge that he would not have to replace this timeline just yet brought a sense of relief so strong that it unconsciously pulled his lips into a smile as he began to run the bathwater.

His prince was trusting him, giving him a chance to repair what he’d broken.  The gesture touched him deeply.

He only hoped he could deliver.

Tag List: @slayersins @doumadono @silverrings-n-prettythings

[anghraine]

this is entirely unprompted on your end, but i love your darcy and faramir takes and wanted to get your opinion on aragorn/faramir as a ship.

i'm salivating over it and nobody. cares. but i just love how it can show the possibilities of book faramir being a "threat" to aragorn's kingship in a way that nobody else is...how they can relate through their shared ancestry but the entirely different ways it impacted them in their respective lives - something about aragorn being the heir of isildur, growing up surrounded by elves, arnor. something about faramir being distinctly aware of the legacy of the stewards, his numenorean heritage and how it's fading away in the world of men, gondor (my fav world in lotr, you are so under-appreciated, gondor.) i personally adhere to the stewards-were-most-likely-also-royalty headcanon because of that extra juicy tension. throw in the i-knew-your-father-as-a-young-man aspect, the whole steward-quite-literally-serving-in-wait-of-the-true-king aspect? it's everything.

i dunno. the natural cause and effect of "return of the king" & "departure of the steward" is so interesting to play with in a romantic context, especially if it keeps both of them in the limelight when naturally, it should only be one of them? i think it's the aragorn ship that pushes his character and ambition the most, and in the same way, it can push faramir to show more machiavellian traits, more of him utilizing his political power and/or personal strengths. especially since his canonical fate is extremely satisfying but also...very conclusively an *ending* if that makes sense.

i might just want to see faramir clashing with aragorn wanting to wage more war. let him cook! let the man speak about "queen among other queens: not a mistress of many slaves"!!!!

also must admit that it's my contrarian ass wanting to rebel against the fanon "aragorn never ever wanted to be king" + "faramir is a pathetic meow meow" headcanons. the existing faramir x aragorn fics i've read all adhere to it which is frustrating.

anyways, any thoughts on this ship i randomly latched on to?

Anon, this is my #1 Tolkien ship and actually one of the only m/m ships I've ever been super into. I used to guiltily sneak-read Aragorn/Faramir as a teenager because I grew up in a conservative community and hadn't come to terms with my own queerness at the time, and was still figuring out how to get by in that community just as a Democrat, much less a lesbian.

Anyway, I got a huge kick out of your ask because it's basically point-for-point my own feelings about them. If you haven't seen it, I even wrote a ship manifesto for them over ten years ago.

And unfortunately I do also agree that the (very PJ film-inflected) fanons around both characters have made it very difficult to find fic for the ship that isn't deeply OOC for the original versions of the characters (tbh the last time I looked, it was hard enough to even find F/A fics where Faramir had black hair, much less his deeper canon characteristics). Add in the fanon depictions of Gondor and the Stewardship, and a lot of what appeals about the pairing is lost for me. I read some good ones a longggg time ago, but wouldn't begin to know where to find them now.

(I know I should be the change I want to see and write some myself, but apart from the AU f/f and m/f/f versions, I think the closest I ever came to it was this post about a mostly-the-same-as-LOTR AU only with Faramir/Aragorn and this feeling explosion about "Faramir actually does accepts the dream-visions obviously intending him to be the one going to Rivendell but also it's Faramir/Aragorn.")

And if you haven't found it yet, my ship tag is #otp: love was kindled.

I hope you enjoy <3

[borom1r]

WAILING @theshakespearetrash sent me 2 ask memes for Boromir asks (who is very much Not my OC skfhshfjjs but I will Always do character analysis I love character analysis so much. rotating him so fast in my brain. microwaving him on high)

+ not to be a kinnie on main (voice of a man who is always a kinnie on main) but I will be answering these all w/ a sort of Boromir-lives scenario in mind -w-

anyways ask meme 1 + ask meme 2

1. What memory would your OC rather just forget?

ok I feel like it’s the cop-out answer to say “his fall to the ring” but I feel like Boromir is the sort of person to.. not like stew on things but very much takes the stance of “good or bad, all my choices got me to the current moment and made me who I am.” + I feel like there’s so much tangled up in his fall completely beyond his control where that’s the only memory that he’d like. actively want to erase from his mind

2. What's something about your OC that people wouldn't expect just from looking at them?

HM. good with kids. I think unless you’d seen him with Faramir/his cousins when they were younger you wouldn’t guess (he’s a soldier and a very plain man when he’s not putting on a show for his father), but he’s just genuinely great with kids

3. What is your OC's fatal flaw? Are they aware of this flaw?

loves too much + quick to lose hope. painfully aware of this

4. When scared, does your OC fight, flee, freeze or fawn?

fight response. 100% the kind of man who gets kicked out of a haunted house for punching a scareactor even though he knew a scare was coming. Faramir and Aragorn have both almost gotten throttled bc they unintentionally snuck up on him

5. How far is your OC willing to go to get what they want?

OOO. When He Is Of Sound Mind, not actually very far. he was raised with the knowledge he would be giving his life to Gondor, whether he died in battle or sat on the throne as steward. add to that the act he puts on for Denethor, everything he does to protect Faramir— he’s a man born to serve. his own wants come last

6. How easily could your OC be convinced to do something that goes against their moral compass?

it would take. a DESPERATELY long time and an almost complete degradation of his mental state. Boromir arrives in Rivendell in October 3018, and the very next day is the Council, at which point he sees the ring and is IMMEDIATELY influenced by it. yet he doesn’t fully fall to it until the end of February 3019. he’d been fighting its pull for almost four whole months by the time he does anything malicious. resisting the One Ring for FOUR MONTHS. <- reasons why if I see someone call Boromir weak for falling to it I will see red.

7. What's one way your OC has changed since you first came up with them?

teehee obviously again Boromir is not my OC so I will take this as an excuse to Be A Kinnie + say, I do remember Boromir being returned to us sometime after my coronation. so that’s one way my memories differ from canon, which is sort of an answer to this prompt snfjsjfj

8. Would your OC ostensibly be able to get away with murder?

OH YEAH. I mean yeah if we’re talking like actual criminal murder and not just Slaying People On A Battlefield like. yeah 100% he would IF he was within Minas Tirith. you know Denethor would do everything in his power to cover that up lmfao

9. Do you have a specific lyric or quote which you associate with your OC?

YEAH YAYYYY I GET TO MAKE MORE PPL LISTEN TO CROM AND BARONESS!!!!

anyways “have you ever seen a man so strong have you ever seen a man so great when he fights time stands still and everything seems so unreal but deep inside of him this man is torn” what if I bit things about this song

+ also listening to Magnolia and Shock Me by Baroness with Aragorn/Boromir in mind makes me ill. im Unwell.

10. What's an AU that would be interesting to explore with your OC?

HMMMMM The Frankenstein Chronicles gave me brain worms so I might write a Frankenstein-inspired thing at some point. sth sth consequences of divine resurrection

11. What is your OC's weapon of choice? Have they ever actually used it?

RAAAAGH. AUTISM TIMEEEEE.

Boromir uses a hand-and-a-half arming sword (meaning it’s balanced for single or double-handed use, with a crossguard). it’s a really elegant sword, very simple and utilitarian. speaks to an adaptable combat style as well. but, interestingly? Boromir carries a Rohirric shield, and if you notice Rohirric swords don’t actually HAVE crossguards the way Gondorian blades do. this tracks, and was common with Roman and early Germanic swords— BECAUSE these cultures were Also relying on shields for blocking.

and an additional note, Faramir’s sword is single-handed. so we’ve got a ranger who prefers the use of a bow and hasn’t experimented much with his sword combat, and his brother who prefers a sword and carries a very versatile blade with 1) a Rohirric shield and 2) a ranger’s vambraces designed to protect his arms from a (nonexistent) bowstring. I just find Boromir’s mix of protective gear so interesting, esp if you consider he and Théodred as at LEAST friends. like Boromir carries so much of the people he cares for with him into strange lands even when he (arguably) has little need for such gear

12. Is your OC self-destructive? In what ways?

yes and no. I think, not consciously? but he absolutely values himself lower than the people he cares for. he goes to Rivendell to keep Faramir out of danger, he takes multiple arrows to the chest and keeps fighting to defend Merry and Pippin. I think if there’s a risk of someone he loves getting hurt, all self-preservation goes out the window

13. If you met your OC, would the two of you get along?

oh I would be staring at him like a predatory animal and trying to psychically convince him to lay on me in full armor

14. How does your OC want to be seen by other characters?

HGH. ok I don’t think he necessarily. does?? and this is generally a Silly Little Headcanon bc of a comment a Most Beloved Friend made abt how everyone gets their autism from their dad (real+true) + now in my head “haha Faramir got his autism from Boromir instead” BUT. like genuinely I don’t think Boromir has an actual image of himself in his head or like processes that ppl perceive him, necessarily. and particularly when his father is holding him up as this aspirational figurehead for Gondor, like… I think he’s just himself, in his head. idk how to describe it well for the neurotypical ppl in the room snfskfjs sorry. like I don’t process myself as having Traits so ppl tell me they think I’m cool or funny or they enjoy being around me and it’s always like “!!! oh!” + I think Boromir is the same way. I think Faramir could describe Boromir to him + Boromir would just be like. “huh.”

15. Does your OC have a faceclaim? If so, who?

it’s Sean Bean + it will always be Sean Bean. sorry other Boromirs you simply pale in comparison

16. What is your OC's pain tolerance like?

VERY high by necessity. he’s a soldier he’s absolutely patched up his own injuries before, at least to hold over until he could see an actual healer

17. What is the worst thing you have put your OC through story-wise?

ahh. I wrote a very personal fic exploring self harm urges w/ Boromir, so I suppose that

18. Is your OC more cold and detached or up close and personal?

very personable, when he’s of sound mind sndnsj

19. How does your OC behave when enraged?

oh he’s a silent anger type for sure. just seethes quietly. hello, consequences of spending time in an environment where you have no actual outlet for your anger + must simply sit there and Stew.

20. Does your OC have a tendency to get jealous? If so, how does this manifest?

again, When He’s Of Sound Mind, no. the man’s got a big heart and life’s too short to be petty

21. Does your OC have any illnesses or disorders? How do they handle it?

hitting him with the autism beam bc I can. I do also think he’s lost at least partial use of his arm in a Boromir Lives scenario, considering where the first arrow struck him

22. What character alignment would you consider your OC to be?

HMMM neutral good. he’s not chaotic enough to be.. chaotic (lol), and I think he’s too willing to go against Gondorian Popular Opinion to be lawful.

23. What emotion is the hardest for your OC to process? How about express?

HMMMMM pain, actually. or “weakness.” I think if he can quantify it in his head as “showing weakness” then it’s getting stuffed in a mental box and Not Addressed

24. What is an alternative life path your OC might have gone down? How different would their life be if they'd made those decisions?

ok well. None. I think with his circumstances he had zero choice in his path. HOWEVER. I am deeply DEEPLY fond of Boromir learning how to play an instrument after the war ends. I STILL struggle to blow my wassail horn that shit takes SKILL that I do not currently have and Boromir was the BEST at blowing his horn?????? I think he deserves to learn how to play an instrument, esp bc Aragorn, Merry and Pippin would ALL be delighted to have Boromir play while they sing. Boromir learning hobbit folk songs????? Rohirric songs, to honor Théodred?? yeagh.

25. What is your favorite thing about your OC?

HES SO. FUNDAMENTALLY LOVING. love is such a core aspect of his character he is so wholly loving that the ring has NO CHOICE but to try to twist that love. bc it’s all Boromir has. love. im going to throw up abt him.

AAAAAAAAAND:

alone: How does your OC deal with loneliness? Have they ever been completely alone before? How do they act when there's no one around to see them?

has he ever BEEN completely alone? mm, no. has he ever felt that isolated? I think absolutely, by the time the fellowship leaves Caras Galadhon. obviously he doesn’t deal with it well el oh el.

as for how he acts when no one’s around to see him… I don’t think much changes, tbh. he’s not the kind of man to Perform for anyone except his father, and then with the express purpose of placating the man and keeping his ire towards Faramir to a minimum

betrayal: Has your OC ever been betrayed by someone they thought they could trust? Has your OC ever betrayed someone who trusted them?

been betrayed? hm. truthfully, no, though I’m certain he felt betrayed by Aragorn’s reluctance to be anything resembling a king.

has He betrayed someone? Technically Yes, though again, if we apply the qualifier of “When He’s Of Sound Mind” the answer is no. his betrayal comes under the influence of a Malicious Magical Artifact Which Has Been Fucking With His Mind For Months, so.

bound: Has your OC ever been imprisoned or captured? What happened? How did they get out? Did the experience leave any scars?

ooo, hm. I think not, actually, though it is a fun little idea for angst

break: What would cause your OC to break down completely? What do they look like when that happens? Has anyone ever seen them at their lowest?

gestures wildly at canon. I mean that’s his lowest. we’ve all seen it.

desire: What's one thing your OC wants more than anything in the world? Are they open with that desire? Why or why not? What would they do to fulfill it?

again, canon— to see his people safe. he’s very open with that desire, lol

failure: What's your OC's greatest failure? Have they been able to move past it? Does anyone else know about it?

AH. canon again. though what he does to move past it… mm. quite a lot of atonement, I think. perhaps of the self-destructive, working-himself-too-hard variety. I do think speaking with Faramir about *his* experience with the ring would help, because Boromir is the first to hold Faramir up as this sort of paragon of Goodness. so I think to know *Faramir* was tempted would help him better ground his experiences as, like…. Not A Deep Moral Failure Exclusive To Himself

fear: What is your OC's greatest fear? What do they do when confronted with it? Are they open with their fear, or do they hide it away?

ehehe. this is one thing I’ve touched on in a Faramir-centric fic, but the idea that the ring showed Boromir visions of Faramir dying at Denethor’s hand should he fail to return with the ring.

had Boromir lived to discover Denethor had nearly burned Faramir alive…… Mmmm. mmmmmmmm.

future: What's the worst possible future for your OC? Are they taking steps to avoid that outcome? Are they even aware it's a possibility?

worst possible? if he’d actually managed to claim the ring. I shan’t elaborate -_-

ghost: Who or what haunts your OC? What happened? How do they live with their ghosts?

MM. his own actions. dead friends, dead loved ones. though if you mean literally, haunts him, I do like to think that Théodred’s Oðr pays Boromir a visit every now and again

guilt: What is your OC guilty about? How do they handle their guilt? Do they try to avoid guilt, or do they accept it?

see above. handles it?? mm. atonement, again. direct action. he accepts it and does what he can to make it right

hate: What does your OC hate? Why? How do they act towards the object of their hatred?

HATE? Orcs, probably. Sauron. that tentacle motherfucker outside Moria. he’s not a hateful man, so. shrugs.

heartbreak: Have they ever had a relationship that ended badly? Experienced some other kind of heartbreak? What happened?

that ended badly in the interpersonal sense? mm, unlikely. more ended badly in the “somebody fucking died” sense.

I do think he had One (1) fledgling romance in Dol Amroth that ended with the other squire dying and that was sort of the catalyst for “ah. If I love people they’ll Probably Die, so maybe I won’t do that” baggage that he didn’t really unpack until, I think, Théodred. add the additional layers of Denethor Being Denethor and Boromir having such great standards to live up to…. with all the love in my heart, that relationship only happened bc Théodred saw Boromir, went “I need to fuck that Gondorian so bad it makes me look stupid” and proceeded to work his way through 1700 layers of gondorian mental bullshit just so he could suck some dick (me too bestie)

hide: What does your OC hide? Why do they hide it?

hm. my first instinct is to say “not much” but ultimately I think he’d hide anything he can quantify as “weakness.” his own distress, any physical pain if he needs to be up and moving, etc. he’s only able to share that earnest moment with Aragorn in Caras Galadhon bc of Galadriel’s influence. he’s not used to being seen. so, if there is sth that would hold him back from fulfilling his duty as a soldier it is absolutely getting hidden/ignored.

hunt: Who or what is your OC hunted by? A person, a feeling, a past mistake? Is your OC able to let their guard down, or are they constantly alert?

hm. not necessarily Hunted, but I do think he is followed by Denethor’s expectations. it’s sth I’ve talked abt in another ask + that I go into in the costuming doc but such a key element of Denethor’s design is his son’s motifs but Richer, Grander. so… I do think Boromir is constantly alert of, like, how his father will perceive him, bc there is this very insidious sort of competition, this need for Denethor to show his sons up (whether a conscious need or not). and I do think that would weigh on Boromir quite heavily

mask: Does your OC wear a mask, literally or figuratively? What goes on beneath it? Is there anyone in their life who gets to see who they are under the mask?

mm again I think he only really wears a mask/performs for Denethor. anyone else would be too much effort for too little reward. at least if he plays Golden Son for his father, it keeps Faramir from being harassed as much

however, as for who gets to see him when he’s.. not just unmasked but actually RELAXED… Faramir, his uncle and cousins, Théodred, Aragorn, the others in the fellowship but particularly Merry and Pippin

midnight: What keeps your OC up at night? Do they have nightmares? Fears? Anxieties? What do they do in the small hours of the morning when they should be sleeping?

does he have nightmares? oh definitely. what he does in the small hours of the night? depends. if he’s on campaign/traveling/otherwise away from Minas Tirith he will either lay there in his bedroll and Think (bad) or get up and write letters. depends entirely on where he’s stationed/who he’s with. if he Is at home in Minas Tirith, I expect he just goes for a walk + looks at the sky

mistake: What's the worst mistake your OC ever made? What led to them making it? Have they been able to fix it? How have they moved on?

I think I’ve pretty much answered all of this above, so skfjsjdh

monster: Is your OC monstrous in any way? Is there something that makes them monstrous? Are they aware of their own monstrosity? Do they accept it or reject it?

nah, he’s not ❤️‍🩹

nightmare: What does your OC have nightmares about? How do they deal with their nightmares? Do they tell people, or keep it to themself?

answered w midnight for the most part— I’ll just add that no, he wouldn’t really talk about his nightmares. that requires showing vulnerability lol. I think Théodred and Aragorn are the only two who could coax him into speaking about his nightmares/fears (he wouldn’t want to burden Faramir with such nonsense)

pain: What's the worst pain your OC has ever felt? Do they have a high pain tolerance?

answered sorta (yes he has a high pain tolerance) but worst pain? gonna go with three orc arrows to the chest

secret: What's one secret your OC never wants anyone to know about them?

HMMMM again I don’t think there are many secrets. I do think if Denethor found out he liked men it would be disastrous

skin: How comfortable is your OC in their skin? Do they grapple with anything that lives inside them—a beast, a curse, a failure, a monster? How do they face the smallest, weakest, most horrible version of themself? Are they able to acknowledge it at all?

hm. I think he’s generally at ease with himself, or at least content with Not Thinking About These Things. I think, had he directly survived the arrows, he would have to grapple with like. the idea that he did prove Aragorn’s fears about men correct (whether Aragorn would agree with him or not)

torture: Has your OC ever been tortured? Would your OC ever torture someone else?

Four Months Of Slow Mental Degradation Due To An Accursed Magical Artifact!!!!! 🎉🎉🎉

(no he wouldn’t torture anyone else)

wound: How does your OC handle being wounded? Are their wounds mostly physical? Mental? Emotional? What's the worst wound your OC has ever experienced?

hm. He would say mostly physical wounds. I’d argue a mix of both. he’ll accept as much care as he needs to stay on his feet and fighting. worst wound is definitely still arrows lol

[thebayclans]

HI i have a question abt the bay clans which I hope is ok to ask here instead of ur main blog?? I figured here is prob safe since it's the one specifically for the bay clans but uh yeah anyways:

Would it be ok to make fan OCs in the bay clans? They wouldn't have to be canon ofc– it's just that I'm already so obsessed w the clan structure and lore and environment and everything, and character ideas keep swimming around in my brain uninvited 😅 like seriously I get so excited at creative worldbuilding and everything about your art and writing is like,, Instant Cure For Art Block

And I'd totally understand if not! Or if there were very strict rules in place, or whatever. Your own OCs and universes are a very valid thing to be protective of :] in which case I will fuel all my art energy into fanart 👀 (which I will probably end up doing either way lol)

that's all, ty for putting up w my rambling, i love your work ok bye!!!

Yes of course that would be so cool! I am definitely not that protective of my work I think art is most fun when it’s collaborative. Unfortunately due to adhd demons I haven’t even covered the full extent of clan culture, so there’s some things that would be a cool basis for ocs that I haven’t given a lot of info on yet (such as Iceclan’s role as stewards of the dead and funeral processions, Stoneclan’s use of fire and tools, etc). But yeah I’m flattered that what I’ve got so far inspired you I encourage ocs. Only rule is you tag me so I can see them :]

[branules]

Why do you like aeriseph, sorry if this comes off as rude but I'm generally not too involved in any fandoms so I can't figure out for myself why ppl like this that's just my dumbass lmao

ok i've sat on this one for like a week debating if i should answer or not but sure. i'll preface this by saying that there is no canonical basis for aeriseph in ffvii. like i can't stress enough how much i am making shit up because i like to have fun. but anyway.

the short answer is:

1. sephiroth and aerith are my two favorite fictional characters. 2. i like to draw my two favorite characters lezzing out, because i am a lesbian, and because my sephiroth is transfem. it makes me smile.

as for the longer answer:

i like how much aerith and sephiroth parallel and contrast each other. i like the idea of aerith of having a secret affair with the evil dead woman she is duty-bound to save the world from. not to mention this evil dead woman's ties to zack and the incident that took him from her. i like the idea of the planet's steward and calamity's child going against their natures because they can't resist each other, and it becomes haunting and tragic knowing aerith's eventual fate and the sort of eternal damnation that waits for sephiroth afterwards for doing something so unforgivable, considering she goes from godhood to immortal planet parasite unable to pass on. i find it soooo compelling to think that despite their feelings for each other, aerith ultimately loved the planet and her friends more, enough to do everything in her power to stop sephiroth with Holy, and that sephiroth chose an extraterrestrial brainworm masquerading as a mother over a kind-hearted woman who offered her genuine love. i like the idea of aerith drawing out all the human parts of sephiroth that sephiroth tried so hard to exorcise herself of. i could go on about this for forever but basically i just like doomed yuri.

some necessary addendums:

first, a lot of people like to imagine aerith and sephiroth as siblings. that's fine and cute and i totally get it, but that's not what i'm trying to do. i don't interact with a lot of aerith and sephiroth content that views them with that angle, even if it's cute, precisely because i don't want to cross those wires or make anyone uncomfortable thinking i'm trying to come at this from an incest or underage angle.

second, i want to add that i really don't fw the other aeriseph content i've seen out there lol. i just think i'm into aeriseph for fundamentally different reasons, considering i have no desire to depict them as a het pairing or create gooner noncon content and the like. it isn't that i'm better than anyone, i just don't want to be associated with what goes on in that pairing tag on ao3, and i can't blame anyone who doesn't like aeriseph for that very same reason. i have yet to see someone go about aeriseph in the same l way as i do (sighhhhhh </3) so until then i'm just going to continue playing with my barbie dolls in my locked ivory tower. i am delusional but i am free. hope this helps <3

[antiromanticbaby]

Paintings - Lord Diavolo

Lord Diavolo x GN!artist!reader

[✧] ー Set in Nightbringer. MC has been trying their best to find a way of communication with the future, hoping that they are actually in the right timeline (which I doubt. Anyways-). It seems like they have finally found a way.

[✧] ー Ok v v random but some parts of the NB game have given me some good 'Dark' flashbacks Like, the SWD cast are asking just where are we and then they change the question to When which was straight out a scene from Dark haha.

When Diavolo first heard of your disappearance, he was torn. The one he loved and adored, the one he was about to court and propose to was now... gone. Just like that, without a trace between the whole three worlds, and even Solomon and Barbatos were no help.

First his mother, then his father, and now you.

No matter what way he put it, you were gone. His little darling was gone. He was the demon prince, he would be the king one day, and yet he felt like he had lost a big part of himself just with your disappearance.

Just where have you gone, MC?

Soft classic music had filled his dimly lit office, and Barbatos had brought his favorite treat. He was going to be king, he couldn't lose his composure just like that. And yet, hearing the classical music, his mind and heart was filled with thoughts of you, of your smile and laughs, of the way you twirled in his arms, or stepped on his feet when he tried to teach you a simple waltz. A smile graced his lip, but it went away soon when he heard the knock on the door.

'Not today...' He thought to himself. Perhaps this was Lucifer, telling him to compose himself and be a good role model for Devildom. But Diavolo knew it, he knew how Lucifer himself was breaking. He had seen how the fallen star flew around the Devildom, sneaked around and tried to find one small trace of you.

Or maybe it was one of his brothers, here to demand answers, to where you were. In this case, as Barbatos has put it, 'when' you were.

And maybe it was Barbatos, bringing good news. Only if 'good news' hadn't turned into 'miracles' that never occurred.

"Come in." He spoke firmly, trying to sound confident. But if it was someone close to him, they would know that he wasn't, that his strong aura was nothing but a mere facade. Still, his kingdom came first. He must look strong, no matter what, even if Lucifer and Barbatos see through the act.

"Young master, I have brought some news." It was Barbatos, always neat and polite. Diavolo, in a way, envied how unphased Barbatos seemed, but he knew that Barbatos was too perfect. And that was exactly why he was imperfect. Diavolo motioned for his steward to continue. Barbatos continued, an amused smile on his face. "A Little D has found some... interesting paintings in the basement. According to what they said, these paintings have been transferred to the castle from Cocytus Hall."

"Interesting? And would you please elaborate on what you are... hinting at?"

"I believe you must see them for yourself." Barbatos spoke politely, motioning Diavolo to follow.

And Diavolo did. Perhaps this would be a good distraction from the haunting thoughts of his darling and just where they were, when they were, and if they were alive or not.

Upon seeing the paintings decorating all over the basement of his castle, Diavolo's heart skipped a beat. He was... so happy, filled with a sense of euphoria that he didn't know existed, not before finding out. Lord Diavolo could recognize your painting style from miles away, and all of these were yours.

But what were you doing in Cocytus Hall? And why haven't any of them heard of you?

He quickly turned the self portrait around, noticing the scribbles on the inside.

'First painting since coming here. It is now one year after the Celestial War. I truly hope this reaches you'

'MC'

There was no point in asking whether these were truly yours or not, because he recognized the handwriting. His grip on the canvas tightened and a smile formed on Diavolo's lips. "Barbatos, please move all of these to my room."

He felt in a rush, to decorate his room with whatever he could find from you. Now, he knew you were alive. He knew you were safe, and as much as the thought of you, his lover, living in the Cocytus Hall back in the past and with Solomon bothered him, he was just glad that you were safe. That his MC was safe and alive. "Oh, and please call the brothers over for dinner. We must share the news."

"Should we tell them about the paintings?" Barbatos asked, even though he already knew the answer.

"...No, not yet. Just tell them we found notes of MC."

It wouldn't hurt to be selfish, only for a little while.

[justamultifandomgirl]

31 Day Fanfic Challenge

So, I have decided to challenge myself to do a 31 day writing challenge, and with Faramir x Eowyn being my favourite ship of all time, I chose them to write about.

I had been sorting through the plans for my main fanfic, and realised that a lot of the planned chapters in there wouldn't work, but I still wanted to use them and thought this would be a great way for me to write them. I also had a few separate one-shots planned as well, so I thought I'd do this 31 day challenge for December.

Partly because I've always wanted to do one of these challenges, partly because I had plans for approximately half of them anyway and partly because @konartiste's recent 31 day challenge (check their work out, especially if you're an Éomer/Lothíriel fan-Veiled Hearts is such a good story!) inspired me to do the challenge.

Anyway, here's the titles of the upcoming fanfics, some longer, some shorter, there's different AUs and everything, hopefully they're all an entertaining read. Let me know if any in particular piques your interest and I can give you a little preview.

Can We Keep Him?

I'm Your Son Too

It's 3am!

Chess Distraction

Meet the Parents (Or the Uncle)

Time Heals Old Wounds

Love in the Apocalypse

His Brother's Wife

Misunderstanding

Steelsheen

Miss King

Throne of Gondor

Blue Shell Trouble

Who Are You?

An Awkward Library Encounter

A Trip to the Stables

5 Lifetimes They Ended Up Alone + 1 They Didn't

I Cannot Deal With This Silence!

Hospital Encounter

His Sister's Children

A Union of Gondor and Rohan

A Wizard's Pupil

A Poorly Timed Proposal

You Would Not Have Known Your Son

Christmas with the Stewards, Kings and Swans

First Words

Snow Day

A Long Overdue Visit

Skipping Stones

Taming Beasts

A Happy Homecoming

First one will be uploaded tomorrow and I will upload daily (probably not Christmas Day, so Boxing Day will likely have 2 updates). Hope you enjoy :)

[codergalsblog]

Lm3 headcanons/I'm back!

Hey, I'm back after another while, lol.

Happy Thanksgiving to everyone 🦃 or Christmas to those who celebrate early🎄

Anyway, I wanted to make a headcanon list of the boss ghost from Luigi's Mansion 3 since I'm currently hyperfixated on it again, lol. It's one of my favorite games, I especially love the ghosts too. I like to think that some of the boss ghosts can't really leave the hotel or choose to stay in the hotel due to rage, sorrow, obligation or just to chill(which is half-freed)

Freed soul = 🟡

Bound soul(by rage, sorrow, etc) = 🔵

Half freed = 🟢

These are my headcanons for them:

Steward: used to work at the hotel before it was taken over. Felt obligated to stay there 🔵

Chambrea: also worked there and also felt obligated 🔵

Kruller: Has nowhere else to really go after he died 🟡

Chef soufflé: Worked there and felt obligation too 🔵

Amadeus Wolfgeist: Out of rage for nobody taking him seriously as a pianist when he was alive. Decided to stay and terrorize any human who listens to him perform 🟢

King MacFrights: Out of vengeance for his fallen kingdom and the royal family 🔵

Dr. Potter: Stayed to take care of his plants. Just chilling 🟡

Morty: To make movies and express his ✨️art✨️ 🟡

Ug: Bound by the t-rex that ate him. Stays in the museum mostly 🔵

Clem: The janitor of the hotel. Felt obligated too, although can leave 🟢

Serpci: Just to chill. Doesn't hold any anger or grudge, died with honor but decided to stay and hang out 🟡

Nikki, Lindsey, and Ginney: Wanted to stay and show their magic to everyone in the hotel, trying to reach the fame they never could before they died 🟢

Captain Fishook: Isn't bound at all but chooses to stay and hang out with some of the minor ghosts his "crew". One of the more friendly ghosts as he died knowing he did what a captain should, but misses his past crew dearly. Can leave the hotel whenever he likes and floats around, feeling more free than ever before 🟡

Johnny Deepend: Only half bound by his sorrow. He died while playing water polo with his best friend as he accidentally got caught on some rocks. His friend was too late to save him and they both feel guilt. He just hopes his friend is ok and living his life 🟢

Phantasmagloria: Isn't bound but stays to chill and dance the afterlife away 🟡

Hellen gravely: Bound as she used to own the hotel + king boo, lol 🔵

Bonus:

Polterkitty + Polterpup: Were born and raised together accidentally but got separated. Polterpup was run over accidentally and Polterkitty died from falling ill 🟡(for both)

[jikookiekosmos]

Seneschal || jjk (Part 1)

➥Pairing: vampire!jungkook/reader, former prince!jungkook/reader

➥Summary: Having been burned by the rest of the world, Jungkook was content to watch it go up in flames. Or, at least, he was until you gave him hope for something new. As plans are set in motion to unite your rival kingdoms, unforeseen circumstances arise. In the midst of the chaos, Jungkook is sure of one thing: he’d be damned if he let you get burned, too.

➥Genre: strangers to lovers, angst, slow burn, (eventual) fluff, (eventual) smut, royalty au, supernatural au

➥Rating: 18+

➥Words: ~6k

➥Content Warnings: a bit of angst, no smut in the first part but there is a little bit of nudity mentioned, blood and violence are mentioned, vampire lore(?), swearing, this is more of an intro chapter than anything else so there isn’t a whole lot that happens

A/N: so uh…it’s been a while, yeah? I haven’t updated any of my BTS fics on this blog in over a year due to a lot of life things (you can read here if you’re curious as to why), but I finally had a little time to sit down and dedicate to this idea I teased back in November 2021. As mentioned in the content warnings, this is more of an intro chapter so there isn’t a whole lot going on…definitely will be more happening later.

Anyways all that to say thank you to everyone who has supported/is still supporting me and my writing even during my hiatus. It means the absolute world to me 💜

(Also special shout-out to @dntaewithluv for listening to me ramble off idea about this for a literal year, I love you so much and appreciate you immensely ❤️)

seneschal [sen-uh-shuhl] (noun) an officer having full charge of domestic arrangements, ceremonies, the administration of justice, etc., in the household of a medieval prince or dignitary; steward.

Otherwise known as Jungkook’s consolation prize when he was coerced to step down from the throne.

It had been 2 years since the…incident occurred, but Jungkook could still remember it as if it had just happened.

Which is exactly what he was reflecting on as a vial was being thrust into his vision.

He blinked rapidly a few times before staring up at the person holding the vial out for him, their face a mixture of excitement and mild impatience.

“Well? We don’t have all day. Drink up, Jeon.”

Jungkook glared.

“My apologies, please drink the potion, Mr. Jeon.”

“Jimin, you know how I feel about you and formalities-”

“It just so happens that my manners come out more as my patience grows thin.” Jimin teased. “So,” he tried once more, “drink it.”

Jungkook sighed and shook his head, knowing it was better to leave well enough alone.

“Are you sure this is safe,” Jungkook asked as he stared hesitantly at the vial filled with blue liquid just inches away from his face.

Jimin rolled his eyes before grabbing Jungkook’s hand and closing it around the vial. “Yes, for the billionth time I wouldn’t give you something I thought might harm you.” He took a step back and crossed him arms, waiting patiently for Jungkook to do something.

With a sigh Jungkook carefully brought the vial to his lips, swallowing the liquid without putting too much thought into it. The taste was bitter, but not wholly unpleasant, and a few more moments passed before either of them spoke.

“And the verdict is?” The genuine curiosity in Jimin’s voice was something Jungkook had always found to be endearing.

Jungkook chuckled. Jimin may have still been a wizard in training, but he always had Jungkook’s best interest at heart.

“How am I supposed to know if anything happened? You tell me.”

Jimin blinked before the realization set in. “Oh, right.” He stepped forward once more, peering into Jungkook’s eyes as best he could in the dim lighting of the room.

Jungkook already knew the results before Jimin could confirm them. The way his face dropped said it all.

“They’re still red. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong, I’m following all the rules-”

“Jimin.”

“Maybe the spellbook is outdated, you know? This is the only one I’ve ever seen anyone else use, it must be centuries old at this point-”

“Jimin,” Jungkook stated more firmly this time, clapping his hand on the other’s shoulder to keep him from pacing around more. “It’s fine.”

Jimin groaned. “But it’s not fine, what kind of a supposed ‘wizard’ am I if I can’t even do a simple eye color changing spell.”

“You’re one that’s trying and that’s what matters.”

“Yeah, but,” Jimin broke off, pout prominent on his face. “you shouldn’t have to wear contacts all the time.”

Jungkook offered a gentle smile to his downtrodden friend. “There’s lots of things I shouldn’t have to do, but I do them anyway. It’s only a slight inconvenience, not a big deal.”

Jimin didn’t seem convinced. “I don’t know why you need to wear them in the first place, does it really matter if people see-”

“Yes,” Jungkook cut him off with a tone of finality. “We’ve been over this. It’s best for everyone if they don’t figure it out.”

“So you’re honestly fine with everyone thinking you did something horrible enough to make you step down from the throne? You’re ok with letting people drag your name through the mud constantly?”

Jungkook shrugged. “It’s just better this way.”

Jungkook could swear he heard Jimin growl. “It’s not right and you know it. You’re just too set in your ways about not wanting to bring dishonor on your family. Which, by the way, not sure if you noticed but they aren’t the most honorable people.”

“Don’t.” Another statement with a stern tone. This time, Jimin obeyed.

Jungkook ran a hand through his hair, letting the dark curls fall at their own leisure. “I need to get going or I’ll be late.”

If he left now he had just enough time to stop by his room and grab his contacts he’d left behind on his way to see Jimin, as per Jimin’s request.

“I’ve got it all figured out, so you won’t even need them this time!” Jimin had promised.

Jungkook had hope that one of these days Jimin would be victorious in all of his spellcasting endeavors, and he’d be there to support him the whole way through.

Right now, however, he had bigger matters to attend to.

On his way back to his chambers he saw Seokjin, who he figured was en route to go check on Jimin, seeing as he was the appointed court wizard and Jimin was his apprentice.

Jungkook nodded at him as they passed by each other, but Seokjin calling out for him had him turning around.

“Yes?”

It was then that Jungkook could see just how tired Seokjin looked. “Lord Jeon requests your presence before your meeting with the king.”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow. “Did he now? He bother to tell you what it was about?”

Seokjin shook his head, brows somewhat furrowed. Jungkook sensed that he seemed tense overall, and Jungkook didn’t like it.

“He didn’t. He just said it was important and had to be done as soon as possible.”

With a deep sigh, Jungkook relented, mumbling a thank you to Seokjin as he changed the direction he was walking. His brother’s chambers were located in a completely different wing of the castle, but he still had enough time to stop by his own room afterwards if he played his cards right.

He could hear the noises before he even approached the door, faint enough to go unnoticed by other passerby, but due to his heightened senses he had the unfortunate luck of not being able to remain oblivious. Jungkook knocked on the door despite the urge to just barge in; protocol was a big thing here and it was best for him to keep that in mind.

When he got no answer, he knocked once more before he squared his shoulders and turned the knob to open the door.

Without waiting for a greeting, he walked in, fully prepared for what he might find, seeing as it’d happened before.

Sure enough, the sight he was met with was exactly what he expected.

“Ah, so you finally came,” a snarky voice called out to him, slightly muffled. Jungkook rolled his eyes as he waited for the other party to get situated.

“What do you want, Yoongi?”

The blonde man in the bed not far from Jungkook smiled as the sheets fell around his waist. The woman next to him had even less shame, not bothering to cover her naked torso.

It wasn’t like Jungkook had never seen it before, anyway-

“Now is that anyway to address your superior?”

Jungkook gritted his teeth. “It is when my ‘superior’ is my younger brother.”

Yoongi tutted disapprovingly. “If you recall, you’re still only 24 years old-”

“Yoongi.”

“Which makes me the older brother now since I just turned 25.” he flashed a grin and the woman beside him snuggled up to his arm, still not completely covering her breasts. Jungkook looked away.

“So,” Yoongi continued, “you care to try that again?”

“I don’t, thanks. What do you want?”

Yoongi huffed, clearly unamused. “What I want is for you to tell our father what my requests are for the event we’re holding.”

This intrigued Jungkook enough to turn his sights back to his brother. “You’re not attending?”

“Unfortunately, no,” Yoongi feigned remorse. “I have more important matters to attend to.”

Jungkook watched in disgust as Yoongi grabbed a hold of the woman’s chin to turn her face so that he could kiss her. He closed his eyes and let out a deep breath.

“So you’re not coming then?”

“Oh he’s not, but he will be,” the woman ran her hand up Yoongi’s arm. Long, teal hair covered her shoulders, reminding Jungkook of when it was first dyed. He’d been there with her after all, so of course he’d remember it.

She giggled at her own joke while Yoongi laughed boisterously, 2 sounds Jungkook wished he’d never have to hear again.

He’d never been that lucky.

“I don’t have time for this,” was his only remark before he turned on his heel to exit the room.

Jungkook ignored Yoongi’s calls for him to come back, instead taking longer than necessary strides to put as much room between him and his brother as possible.

A low growl died in his throat as he pulled on the edge of his chain dangling from his neck. It looked like an ordinary chain necklace to the untrained eye, but it was long enough to where the end of it could fit in Jungkook’s pocket. From his neck, the rest of the chain disappeared beneath his shirt, covering the length of his chest.

It was a safety measure more than anything, something Seokjin and Jimin had helped him come up with following the ‘incident.’

⊱─────✧༺✧༻✧─────⊰

“Silver has been known to cause excruciating pain to vampires,” Seokjin had explained, “but this is a special chain, charmed with a spell that dulls that effect.”

“It doesn’t get rid of it completely?” Jimin’s confusion was evident alongside his concern for his friend.

Seokjin shook his head. “It won’t, only because that was Jungkook’s request.”

Jimin’s worried stare shifted to Jungkook, who was sitting on one of the tables in Seokjin’s chambers. His shirt was shredded, and his chest was stained scarlet: souvenirs of his most recent outing.

He went out to feed, traveling several towns over, and ended up failing miserably. Jungkook maybe got a few seconds of satisfaction before he was being ripped away from his willing victim and promptly beaten by 3 other men.

He absolutely could’ve taken them, but he was already ashamed of what he was doing in the first place. He figured that this was punishment that he had coming in one way or another.

That night when he stumbled into Seokjin’s room, bloodied and defeated, they put together a plan straight away.

Jimin asked to sit in and observe, since he was still unfamiliar with certain spells, but he missed that part of the conversation when he was fetching supplies.

“I don’t understand, why do you want the chain to still be able to cause pain?”

Jungkook sighed, wrapping part of it around his fist and noticing instantly the slight burn the metal singed his skin with. “Because the pain will hopefully be enough to stop me.”

“Stop you from doing what?”

Jungkook slowly raised his eyes to look at Jimin, a small, sorrowful smile stretched across his face.

“Something I regret.”

⊱─────✧༺✧༻✧─────⊰

The familiar sting of the chain branded the inside of his palm with invisible marks, and he kept it curled inside his hand until he was in front of his own chamber doors. He was really pushing time now, close to being late for his advisory meeting, but he’d risk a slight delay in the start of the meeting versus having to explain why his eyes were crimson colored.

Once he had his contacts fixed, he all but jogged to the large meeting room down the hall. A few guards and his father were already there, waiting on him as it seemed he was the last to show up.

“You’re late,” the king greeted, a hint of disappointment in his tone.

Jungkook was used to that by now.

“Sorry, Your Majesty, I had to run a few errands first. Shall we start?”

The king cleared his throat and nodded, holding out his hand to the guard nearest him. A scroll was placed into his large palm before he quickly unraveled it.

Jungkook watched his eyes flit across the parchment, and when he deemed it satisfactory, the king handed it back to the guard so he could pass it down to Jungkook.

“You’ll find the agenda there for tomorrow’s event. I’m entrusting you, as usual, with all the planning so you can make sure everything is taken care of.”

Jungkook hummed as he read through everything. It all looked to be in order: designated time for the other guests to arrive, instructions for what catering needed to be prepared, an outline of what was required for Yoongi’s meeting with the princess-

Jungkook read that line again. And another time. He ground his teeth together as he looked back up at the king whose eyebrow was raised as he waited.

“Well? Is something the matter? You look perturbed.”

“Father-”

“This is an official meeting, boy. No informal titles allowed.”

Jungkook’s jaw was clenched. “Your Majesty,” he tried again, “what is this last portion here about a meeting with a princess?”

“Ah yes, that.” The nonchalant answer made Jungkook’s anger rise even further. “The meeting between their princess and our prince is what will be the defining moment for the entire event.”

Jungkook had known there was some sort of event happening that was supposed to – hopefully – demolish the rivalry between the two neighboring kingdoms. There had been bad blood for far too long, and it sometimes made it difficult to retrieve supplies from other areas without conflict arising.

Jungkook had been tasked with planning everything for the guests arrival, as his job required him to do. Despite being kicked from the royal lineage, he was allowed to stay a part of the royal court and act as a steward of sorts. It wasn’t always the best, but he figured it beat being exiled from the kingdom entirely.

He worked tirelessly over the last several months to ensure that all boxes were checked for this gathering. But this new information blindsided him, and now it suddenly made sense why his father and Yoongi both seemed so cocky and sure that this would work.

“And no one thought it pertinent enough to tell me that this would be happening?”

Of all things he could’ve done in that moment, the king had the audacity to shrug. “You won’t be present for that bit of it, so we didn’t feel it was necessary to tell you.”

“Then why isn’t Yoongi here for this instead of me,” Jungkook tried to keep his tone respectful, but even he couldn’t stop some of the malice from slipping through.

“The prince” the king put heavy emphasis on the title, “is busy carrying out other affairs, so it didn’t seem important to bother him with this.”

“Yeah, affair is certainly one way to put it,” he mumbled, crossing his arms as he looked to the side.

“I beg your pardon?”

 Jungkook exhaled through his nose. “Nothing, Your Majesty.”

The king stared at Jungkook for a few more moments before he dismissed the other guards in the room.

“Gentleman, if you’d kindly take your leave for a moment – I need to have a discussion with my son. Two of you may remain posted at the door in case you’re needed.”

The guards obeyed quickly, bowing as they exited.

Jungkook scoffed. “So now I’m your ‘son?’ I’m surprised that word still exists in your vocabulary where I’m concerned.”

“Jungkook, be quiet!” The king raised his voice as a warning and slammed his fist against the table, stopping Jungkook’s jabs in their tracks.

“Regardless of your faults and any heinous acts you may have committed, you are still my son. Whether I like it or not.”

Jungkook hated how those words caused a dull ache in his chest.

“And because you are my son, that is why you are still allowed to be here in the first place. Do you ever think about how easy it would’ve been to toss you on the street like some mere commoner,” the king spat, his own outward frustration mirroring what Jungkook felt on the inside.

“You only tell me every chance you get, how could I not?”

“Watch your tone with me, boy. I am not above throwing you in the dungeon for insubordination.”

Jungkook was well aware. At this rate, he had his own personal cell with how often his father (and more so his brother) felt the need to send him there.

“Can we go back to what this ‘meeting’ is supposed to entail? Why is their princess involved?”

The king squared his shoulders and smiled. “They’ve offered a marriage proposal.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened. “I’m sorry, a what?”

“Exactly what it sounds like. The king’s eldest daughter, Princess Mina, is being offered as a marriage candidate for Prince Yoongi.”

“And Yoongi agreed to this?”

The king frowned at Jungkook’s continued lack of formality before he nodded. “He’s been preparing for it for a while now.”

Jungkook clenched his fist under the table.

“Fucking unbelievable,” Jungkook muttered, a few seconds from leaving the meeting altogether in order to give the prince a piece of his mind.

“Language,” the king reminded him sternly.

“Look, fa- Your Majesty. With all due respect to you, I think this is a terrible idea.”

“Please do enlighten me as to why you feel that way.”

Jungkook sighed as he rubbed his temples. “Arranged marriages amongst royals never seem to work out well from what I’ve seen. Arranged marriages amongst anyone just seems like a poor idea.”

“Your mother and I married as part of an arrangement, and we turned out fine.”

Jungkook would beg to differ, but that was an entirely different conversation for some other time.

“I just think it’s odd that he would accept this proposal when he’s already involved with someone else.”

Finally, it was the king’s turn to look taken aback. “Whatever do you mean?”

‘He doesn’t know,’ Jungkook realized.

“Don’t worry about it, I just assumed he already had someone in mind is all.”

“Unlike you, the prince seems to be able to keep his mind off of finding love amongst the common rabble outside the castle walls.”

Jungkook winced.

“Additionally, if he did already have someone in mind, I’m sure I would’ve heard about it by now.”

“You know better than I would,” Jungkook lied. He knew that Yoongi kept many, many secrets from their parents, which is why he’d always been the favorite. They never got a glimpse of his true nature, but unfortunately for Jungkook, he got to see all of it.

“Indeed,” the king said with finality, marking the end of that conversation. “Now, back to the preparations for the event-”

“I’ll handle it,” Jungkook sounded much more deflated than when he entered the room. Animosity exhausted him.

“Good. I expect nothing less of you. I don’t expect much from you to start with, but I at least anticipate you will do your job.”

Another mindless insult. Jungkook stopped keeping count of how many times his father shamed him years ago after the scandal first broke.

If anyone asked him, he’d even go so far as to say his father’s love for him died the same day his human life ended.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, the queen and I have other matters to attend to before tomorrow.” The king got up from the table and walked off, not even bothering to see if Jungkook would also make way to leave. Before he exited through the door, he turned back one last time to look at Jungkook.

“Don’t make me regret letting you stay here. This is the most important thing the kingdom has faced since you were a child, and if you mess it up somehow, being exiled will be the least of your worries.”

Jungkook received the threat with a solemn stare, no more words spoken as he was then left alone in the large room.

On the way back to his chambers, Jungkook had a lapse in judgment. He turned and let his feet carry him to his new destination, landing three hard knocks on the door before it opened quickly.

“What?” An annoyed tone filtered through the open doorway. “Oh – it’s just you.”

Yoongi’s hair was less disheveled than it had been earlier, but it was clear he was now trying to get himself ready for later activities in the day.

“What do you want?” Yoongi crossed his arms as he leaned against the doorframe, not allowing Jungkook any space to enter the room.

Not that he really wanted to, anyway. He just needed to know one thing.

“Does she know?”

Yoongi blinked in confusion. “Does who know about what? You gotta be more specific, I can’t read your mind-”

“Does she know,” Jungkook interrupted, more sternly this time. “What’s happening tomorrow. Does she know?”

He had to ask. As much as he loathed her now, he still thought she deserved better than to be cheated on and discarded like she was nothing.

Even if that’s exactly what she’d done to him.

Jungkook watched as Yoongi’s eyes sparked with amusement when he finally understood. “Aeris? Yeah, she knows. She actually just left by the way; sorry you didn’t get to see her again.”

Jungkook’s eyebrows furrowed.

 “So she knows and she’s fine with it?”

“Yeah, I mean – she gets it a ‘thing’ I have to do. It’s completely transactional and I’m only doing it for the betterment of the kingdom.”

Yoongi was lying through his teeth and Jungkook wanted to wipe his smug grin off his face. His entire life Yoongi had been selfish and only looked out for himself, so this idea that he was doing it to help the people living in the kingdom?

Absolutely preposterous.

Jungkook needed a fucking break. He needed to get away, clear his head before he had to come back and deal with everything else tomorrow.

He walked off without another word, something he knew Yoongi hated – which is most of the reason why he’d done it.

“You know,” Yoongi shouted after him, “I think bitterness suits you. It’s a good look since it matches the rest of your miserable demeanor!”

Jungkook ignored him and continued walking, not stopping until he reached his favorite spot in the entire castle.

He would often come up to the highest balcony, somewhere he could be alone with his thoughts and not have the added stress of other’s opinions for a short while.

The balcony was all but abandoned as he was the only one to frequent it. The only crime he’d ever say he committed was stealing the key to the door that granted access up here. After a while, everyone else forgot about it, so he was able to keep this spot hidden. A place of his own, where he didn’t have to worry about being found.

A place of his own where his thoughts could run wild. A place of his own where his demons continued to follow him despite his best efforts.

A place of his own where he could just be alone.

After all, that’s what was best for everyone, right?

Jungkook couldn’t help but wonder, as he’d done many times before, what his life would be like now if he hadn’t been attacked. His entire life – as a prince, as an official royal family member, as a living, breathing human – was cut short in the blink of an eye. His humanity as he knew it was gone in an instant.

If it hadn’t happened, though, where would he be now? Would it be him getting ready to marry someone for political gain instead of his brother?

He shook his head as he let out a humorless chuckle. He knew he’d fight that decision with everything he had, and for he first time since it had been stripped away from him, he was relieved he wasn’t in that kind of position anymore.

The thought of sharing his life with someone he didn’t truly care about, whether it was for the greater good or not, just didn’t seem right, nor did it seem fair. Not to mention the fact that it didn’t just include him: someone’s else’s life would be affected just as much as his.

It dawned on him then that he was standing here, genuinely putting thought into how he would handle such a situation. He wasn’t some cold, heartless being. He still had the ability to care for others, and that alone gave him some sort of hope.

He looked up at the moon, admiring how the light spilled through the branches of the tree overhead.

“Maybe I still have some humanity left after all.”

lady-in-waiting (noun) a woman of noble birth who serves a female monarch as a member of the royal household.

“Please hold still, Your Highness,” you huffed with thinly veiled frustration as you tried to lace up the corset you were currently working on.

You made a mental note to go shopping later in order to find better dresses for the princess. They still would be ones that were just as extravagant, but hopefully didn’t give you a blood pressure spike to assist with.

“Oh please, what’s with the formal treatment? It’s just us right now, you don’t have to do that, you know.”

“Yes, but,” you tugged once more, finally letting out a sigh of relief when the strings worked how you wanted them to. “With the event happening soon, it’s better for me to get back into the habit.”

Being best friends with the princess granted you some privileges that you were grateful for. When it was just the two of you, you didn’t have to uphold this extra formal, fancy attitude and instead you both got to be much more laid-back. You knew she appreciated it just as much as - if not more than - you, since she was held to a higher standard and scrutinized more heavily.

However, by the kingdom’s definition, you were first and foremost her lady-in-waiting, which ranked above any and all other duties you had in the royal court. Which, unfortunately, meant that at certain times your role took precedence over your friendship, and that was just the way it had to be.

“Ugh, I can’t wait for all this stupid royal relations stuff to be over.”

“Mina-”

She held up a hand. “Let me get it out, then you can scold.”

You waited patiently, fixing the other parts of the dress while she rambled on for the umpteenth time about her dislike for the event happening soon.

“…I mean this is a rival kingdom, we don’t even like them, so why bother. You know?”

“Mhm,” you hummed as you agreed honestly. It did seem like a stretch for your kingdom to try and force relations with one who had been a long-standing rival. The way you saw it, if after all these years and prior failed attempts had yet to work, what made the king think this would be any different?

Of course, there was now the added factor of a new bargaining chip: the king and queen were offering one of their daughters as a potential marriage candidate for the other kingdom’s prince.

Mina, being the oldest princess in line, begrudgingly accepted for the sake of the kingdom.

The plan had been set in motion months prior, but it was all finally happening tomorrow – both you and Mina were on edge, anticipating the worst but hoping for the best.

What was supposed to happen seemed simple enough: the king would accompany the princess on her visit to the other kingdom, escorted heavily by guards and with you at her side, as you always were. She would meet the prince officially for the first time, and both kings would try to strike up some sort of arrangement.

You figured this would actually be more beneficial for them, seeing as their kingdom was still recovering from a huge scandal that happened a few years ago. You remembered it vividly, taking note of how the abruptness of it all never sat right with you.

The eldest prince stepped down from his position as next in line for the throne, following some sort of act that was only described as ‘utterly disgraceful’ and never really elaborated on in the public news.

Before the news broke, the kingdom was well known for its power and influence all over the land, and the downfall from it all landed a huge blow to their standing. It aided your own kingdom in rising above them in their rivalry, but it appeared that now your own monarchs wanted to put everything behind them and unite for…whatever reason.

You tried not to get too deeply involved in the politics. Your duty was to serve Mina, and the royal family as a whole – this didn’t leave you much room to voice your own opinions.

 Mina’s soft calling of your name pulled you out of your thoughts.

“Yes?”

Any frustration you had left from the dress fiasco quickly evaporated when you saw her face. She was biting her lip, and in that moment she looked very meek, small. Very unlike the exuberant, confident young woman you knew.

“I’m scared.”

You sighed at that, pulling her into a hug that she gratefully accepted. This was this first time she had outright said it, but you could tell she was terrified from the moment she was first told about this arrangement months ago.

“I know,” you patted her back. You wanted to tell her everything would be alright, that it would all work out, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

Lying to someone to provide them comfort was never something you could get behind, and you didn’t plan to start now.

“I promise you, though, that whatever happens, we’ll get through it together.” You didn’t feel bad saying that because it was the truth; you were ready to face anything when it came to Mina, and you’d do anything for her.

She was basically the most important person in your life, and you’d be damned if you let anything bad happen to her.

Well…anything short of letting her go through with a marriage to a man she’d never met.

Just as your duty to her came first, her duty to her kingdom came first. You knew it and respected it, even if you didn’t always like it.

Mina giggled, her frame shaking slightly in your hold. “It almost sounds like you’re the one I’m supposed to be marrying,” she teased.

You joined in her laughter. “I mean, I don’t think it would yield quite the same results-”

“We both know we’d be arrested before we could even say ‘I do.’” Mina joked, despite her dark attempt at humor having a level of truth to it.

“A princess marrying her lady-in-waiting?” You covered your heart and pretended to be appalled. “Imagine the scandal!”

Mina shoved you lightheartedly, her laughter echoing off the walls. She looked miles happier than she’d been a few minutes prior, and you were relieved to see it.

“C’mon, help me with my hair or we’re gonna be late.” Mina collected her hairbow from her dresser and handed it to you so you could tie up her hair in the back. When you were done, she glanced quickly in the mirror and nodded, pleased with the result.

“Is there anything else you need to do?”

You gave yourself a once-over in the mirror as well and decided that your outfit would have to do. It wasn’t bad by any means, but if you had a little more time, you probably could’ve spruced it up some more.

“All good here. After you, my Lady.” You made a grand gesture out of letting her go first, which earned you another light shove.

“Cut that out! We still have a few minutes of freedom left before we have to be formal.”

You chuckled. “You got it.”

✧───────⊱✧⊰───────✧

You accompanied Mina to her final etiquette training before the big day. Everything she learned was more of a refresher than new material, but her nervousness kept her from doing her best, which led to her being reprimanded by the queen.

“How can you expect to marry someone if you can’t play the part of a prim and proper princess?”

Mina bit her tongue, as she usually did with her mother, and you expected to get an earful from her later about the situation. To your surprise, instead of venting, she was quiet and calm upon returning to her chambers.

Before she was ready to sleep for the night, you checked in one her one last time. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

With a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, she responded. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

✧───────⊱✧⊰───────✧

You had never woken up more stressed out in your entire life.

All your training had culminated in this moment. You were to make sure that the princess arrived safely along with her appointed guards, and it was also up to you to make sure that everything went off without a hitch.

Such a small responsibility, right? What could possibly go wrong?

Well, for starters-

The castle you found yourself in was much larger than you anticipated, which was saying a lot considering the castle you lived in was already rather large.

Also, you weren’t the best with directions, but as long as you and Mina didn’t get separated, that shouldn’t be a problem.

And it wasn’t a problem…until it came time for her to meet the prince.

“We’re sorry, miss, but only high-ranking royal officials can be present for this meeting.” A guard held out his arm, blocking you from following Mina into the room. She frowned and tried to protest on your behalf, but her father wasn’t having any of it.

“She’ll be fine, we need to get a move on.” He grabbed a hold of her elbow and ushered her along, and you got one last look at her worried countenance before the doors closed.

Now was when the panic set in.

“I-I need water. Or just- something.” You said it aloud but didn’t really know if anyone would hear you or help you for that matter.

Thankfully, the guard who had just cut you off was kind enough to give you directions to the kitchen and dining area. You’d been there not too long ago when everyone was eating the meal that had been prepared, so surely – you thought – it wouldn’t be an issue to stop by and get a drink to calm your nerves.

That plan worked for all of about ten minutes before you re-entered the hallway from the dining room only to find nobody was around. No guards, no passerby, nothing.

It didn’t help that, from what you had seen, most hallways looked nearly identical.

You were officially lost. Alone, panicking, and lost in a castle you’d never been to before with no one in sight to help. Unsure of what else to do, since walking around aimlessly definitely did not seem like a good idea, you did what any normal person would do.

You sat down on the floor and wrapped your arms around your legs, resting your head on top of your knees.

This had to be your worst nightmare. You were separated from Mina, the one person other than yourself who you were responsible for taking care of, and you were also stuck in unfamiliar territory which was one of your biggest fears.

None of your training ever prepared you for this-

“Are you alright, miss?”

A soft voice filtered through your thoughts, making your head snap up. Your breath got caught in your throat.

There was a man kneeling down in front of you, his hand extended as he offered you a gentle smile.

Suddenly, your situation didn’t seem like such a nightmare anymore.

A/N: thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it!

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