#but it's going to come after Oleander's

[soulsxng]

Laisren Cynwrig Ris, life to current day, pt 1

Another fae born in the Unseelie, to two longtime advisors to the Queen-- a birth that coincided with that of the Queen's only child. Laisren grew up in a rather sheltered environment, with few peers his own age...aside from the young royal, that is, whom Laisren quickly grew rather fond of.

The two grew up closely with each other, and many thought that one day, when the young royal took the throne from their mother, that Laisren would come to be their top and most trusted advisor.

The young fae himself, however, dreamed differently. Having taken a rather grand admiration toward Bleddyn, his only dream was to one day become a royal knight. Someone that could stand by his best friend's side to protect him, as well as beside his longtime idol.

...Unfortunately, his lessons had little focus on combat, and for a long time, the dream seemed so far out of reach that it would be better to let go of. For Laisren to move on from it. It was the young royal that changed his mind, and encouraged him to speak with Bleddyn about becoming a student under him.

Though he was promptly turned down (Bleddyn couldn't risk compromising his duties by trying to teach a completely green student, after all), Bleddyn too, encouraged him to "hone his craft", and-- should he still harbor the same goal later on-- to ask again at that point.

It was then that, against his parents' wishes, Laisren forwent the path that they had chosen for him, and began to study the path of the knight, instead. He flourished in this new environment, where he had once struggled to keep up with the lessons he had been given before. In this time, he was able to broaden his horizons. Visit new places and meet people that he never would have had the chance to encounter before.

Years later, when he decided it was time to make his request to Bleddyn again, it was with his head held high and a confidence in his voice that convinced the older knight that now, finally, he was ready.

Laisren proved to be a quick study-- hanging on every last word and every action. If there was something to be learned from his mentor, then Laisren would give the matter his entire focus.

And it very quickly paid off as, at nearly the same time that his best friend took the throne, he was made one of the youngest royal knights in the Unseelie. He was always proud that he was able to continue standing beside his friend, doing a job that he felt he was meant to do.

The days passed at leisure, and in that time, the relationship between Laisren and the young ruler blossomed into something more. Along with a third-- a dryad healer from near the Mortal Realm's entrance to the Unseelie, whom the two met by little more than chance-- they fell into a love that endured even in the hardship of the days to come.

It was the dryad whom the young ruler eventually married. Their relationship with Laisren remaining mostly a secret, so as to allow the royal knight to continue on in his duties without being constantly bothered with other matters. And it was because of the relationship remaining a secret that Laisren eventually came to be the one to discover the first seeds of the coup within the young royal's own trusted allies.

The two in question being his very own parents.

He never did come to know their reasoning for siding with the coup-- be it that they didn't agree with the direction the young ruler wished to take the Unseelie, or that they had been planning such a thing even during the Queen's rule. Perhaps they had simply been too afraid to act against her, but that wasn't the case with the young ruler?

Laisren couldn't say. And though it pained him greatly, he showed them no mercy when he learned of their transgressions-- it was by luck alone that his mother was able to flee, where his father was struck down.

At first, he expected to be viewed with scrutiny by his lovers and Bleddyn alike...but not once were his loyalties questioned. As always, he was met with the same acceptance that he had been before. Something that only served to further his loyalty, and the lengths that he was willing to go for them.

When his son was born-- when Oleander was born-- it was simultaneously one of the happiest, and most terrifying days of his life. For the more his family grew, the more fearful he grew that one day, something would come to take it all away.

...It took two decades, but the time finally came. Bleddyn was sent away to bring Oleander to safety, and Laisren remained.

The coup invaded the palace undetected, which left Laisren and some small few royal knights against a force that quickly saw them surrounded. For each opponent that fell, he saw his family that much closer to safety. He held nothing back, even as he was met with familiar faces standing against him, he would cut them down without the slightest hesitation.

Close...he had been so close, when he was run through. Having been met with a trap when they were mere feet from escaping, Laisren had leaped before his beloveds to protect against a blow that he otherwise would have had no hope of defending against. And just like that, he fell.

With the last shreds of his awareness, Laisren could hear them cry his name. With the last of his strength, he pleaded for them to run.

His last thought, a prayer that his family would be safe.

[splishsplashgash]

My Lawrence Oleander headcanons

-he dumpster dives behind gardening and floral shops sometimes.

-Lawrence either eats like he's at 5 star restaurant or like a feral racoon in the trash.

-Lawrence actually deeply cares for his sisters he just doesn't know how to express it.

-His first pet was a fish,he'd sit for hours watching it in the family living room.

-Lawrence developed his plant obsession because his father would often garden,after his parents found out about his hobby with dead animals his father started teaching him about plants in hope that it'd give him a different hobby.

-Lawrence has to listen to either white noise or nature sounds to go to sleep

-Lawrence only showers once a week,and when he does it's an everything shower,aka shave,wash hair,body,etc.

-Lawrence is a rainbow baby,his parents calling him a miracle but once he got older his mother would murmur when he walked past that he was a curse instead

-Lawrence would clean the house when his family left hoping that they'd see him in a different light but they'd come home and say nothing,ignore him.

-Lawrence as a kid didn't eat his boogers like other kids he'd eat and pick at his scabs instead (me too Lawrence me too.)

-Lawrence was designated babysitter when ever his parents would leave for dates or other things.

-Lawrence hated school,we all know that, but I believe that Lawrence's teachers probably loved him,that they would call him sweet and hardworking.

-Lawrence likes routine and when his routines are messed up it angers him

- (Okay this one is more jokingly but...) He uses MC's piss to pass his works drug tests.

-He buys those essential oils that those old white ladies promote saying it will cure everything and all that junk

-He doesn't know much about technology,yeah he'd search stuff up on the family computer and on his phone but besides that he doesn't really know much.

-avid nail biter

-lived off Arizona Green Tea as a teenager

-Let his sisters braid and play with his hair when they were younger

-When he got his hair cut as a kid by his mom he'd cry everytime to the point she gave up on cutting it anymore

That's all I can remember right now I'm sure I have more though lol.

[rottenraccoons]

How often do the ros go to the surface?

Francesco Fran's a surface dweller! His current stay in the marketplace is his first.

Keir He goes out fairly regularly for gigs. Someone's got to carry in the boxes of goods that get delivered, after all!

Oleander His surface visits are irregular, but if a client doesn't want to go into the mountain (understandable) then he'll come up.

Cirrus Cirrus very, very rarely leaves the underground, and when he does, it has to be for a good reason. One of these reasons may be for ritual star or moon-gazing.

[anthurak]

Something I’ve come to appreciate in video games recently is when a game about some special place needing to be saved by a newcomer who just showed up doesn’t actually have everything go to hell before the protagonist shows up or within a few minutes of them arriving.

To use the example that really made me appreciate this trope, I actually really like how in Psychonauts, Raz/the-player gets to experience Camp Whispering Rock as more or less normal for a while before Oleander’s big ‘steal a bunch of kid brains and stick them in an army of psychic-death-tanks to take over the world’ plan gets revealed, Lilli gets kidnapped by the giant, hulking traumatized lungfish and everything really goes bad.

Like I feel that most games would have all that stuff happen within the first five or ten minutes or so, but with Psychonauts, somewhere between a third and a full half of a playthrough can potentially take place before night falls and everything really goes bad.

Just to give an example, look at how much the game restricts your movement around Whispering Rock in the early game, or rather doesn’t actually restrict it. I think it’s easy to imagine a version of the game which blocks off the different areas of the camp until that area’s relevant mission became available. But no, the only real roadblock to exploration the player faces in the early game is the first mind level. Once Raz completes Basic Braining, the entire rest of the camp becomes open to explore at your leisure.

Heck, the game even encourages exploration by being deliberately vague on where exactly Sasha Nein’s secret lab is. And with the combination of the game both explaining how PSI-Challenge Markers work right in the tutorial and teasing you with a ‘New Psychic Power When You Reach Level 10’ whenever you level up, and a lot of those Markers and Cards being accessible even before you unlock Levitation, the game is already nudging you to go out and explore the camp. And that’s not even mentioning the Scavenger Hunt items.

Or how while the game does direct you to Ford Cruller after the first Brain Tumbler experiment, it’s entirely possible, even likely, that you’ve ALREADY met Ford thanks to simply dropping into one of the fast-travel stumps while exploring.

I mean, consider this; it’s entirely feasible and without too much trouble for Raz to have Pyrokinesis before he even learns PSI-Blast from Sasha. And to have Pyrokinesis, Telekinesis and Invisibility by the time he fights the Blueprint Tank at the end of the Brain Tumbler Experiment. Heck, if you’re really going the grindy-route, basically ALL the collectables in camp, save for one scavenger hunt item, can be acquired before nightfall.

And personally, I really like that you can do this.

Because it feels like Raz/the player gets the chance to experience Camp Whispering Rock as a camp in a more relaxed, easy-going state before night falls, Oleander’s plot is fully revealed and everything becomes a lot more urgent and dangerous. Instead of being thrust into the meat of the action right off the bat, Raz gets the chance to explore and learn and basically do the stuff he actually WANTED to when he came to Whispering Rock.

Thematically, it fits really well with just how driven Raz is to become a Psychonaut, as well as the limited time he seems to have before his dad comes to pick him up. Why wouldn’t he throw himself into exploring, learning and generally doing everything he can at Whispering Rock with what little time he had?

And it also fits nicely with the rest of the game as well. It makes the first third/half of the game feel like Raz is actually learning to become a Psychonaut, and the battle against Linda, breaking into the asylum and rescuing Lili, Sasha and Mia feel Raz is putting everything learned in the first third/half of the game into practice.

Or how Ford’s faith and confidence in Raz’s abilities start making a lot more sense if Raz has both picked up and become reasonably proficient in FIVE psychic powers in what was basically an afternoon.

Honestly I wish we could see this sort of thing in more games with this sort of ‘hero arrives at a super special place and has to save it from destruction’ premise. Just let the protag/player explore and experience the place in a more casual, relaxed manner before everything goes to shit. Like give them a reason to get invested and CARE about this place so it feels all the better to actually save it.

[chonggen]

Quick new Oc

Really quick, she only took me 12hr. And behold my new art style.

Full name: Jia Zhutao (or just Tao)

Species: Hong Niang / Cat demon (she used to be a human before being a cat demon)

Gender: Female

Age: 1000+

Weapon(s): A fan like kunai

Home: Underworld

Alias(es): Ten Kings, Celestial Realms (except Li Jing, bc he wants to lock her up in the pagoda), Nine-headed Demon

Affiliation(s): Ten Kings’ subordinate

Occupation(s): Memory scrolls’ manager, Ten Kings’ diplomat, Soul seeker and attractor

Likes: Oleander, Meng Po Soup, cats, mortal realm, Yu Lan Festival, mortals’ celebrations

Dislikes: coriander, smelly food, dogs, work

Family: Jian Dumu - Twin brother

Friend(s): Nine-headed Demon, Meng Po, Nezha

Enemies: Li Jing

Status: dead? or it counts alive?

Abilities:

Hallucination- Tao can make it into visual, auditory, pain, etc. It is mainly used to suppress out-of-control souls. It can also be used on humans and demons, and they cannot be relieved by themselves. And also can create the phantom of objects, places, but she mainly create the souls’ family members to guide them and bring them to Meng Po.

Shape shifting- Tao can transform into cats, human, also can transform into the family member of the souls that completely out-of-control to appease them. Except the special case she mainly use it to go to the mortal realm.

Ability of seeing the wraiths (cursed souls)- Wraiths unlike the normal ghosts or souls, wraiths will only appear in people who have committed serious sins, which means that these people are the targets of her soul seek. And the wraiths only appear in the mortal realm and won’t appear in the underworld.

Teleportation- Tao can teleport to anywhere, but it only can be used at work or at the Yu Lan Festival (that festival is her vacation). And when she teleports a bunch of oleander petals appear.

Puppetry- Tao can possess people just like the Lady Bone Demon, but only can possess two at the same time.

Soothe the nerves- Tao has a scent that calms people down. The concentration of the smell can be adjusted, but if it is too strong it can cause coma.

Poisoned body- If Tao comes into physical contact with another person, they become poisoned and die immediately. However, it doesn't affect females or her brother.

Super hearing- Tao can locate sounds up to 100 meters away.

Personality:

She looks gentle, but she is a lazy person. Whenever she wanted to escape from work, she would go to Po Meng's place to be lazy. She doesn't work hard when searching for souls.

She’d never trust to the other except her friends, because during her lifetime, she was betrayed by her lover and sacrificed her twin brother. In order to no longer be betrayed by his lover and never devote himself wholeheartedly to a love, he also developed a habit of killing the other person after the love ended. Until she arrived in the underworld, became a soul seeker, and found her brother. No matter how close the relationship between the other party and her is, they can only become friends or besties at best.

[obscured-everything]

​​OBSCURA trailer analysis & theories

The OBSCURA trailer is very pretty (watch it if you haven’t already <3) and is also full of interesting symbolism and snippets of Latin. In this post I’m going to be manually translating and providing notes on the Latin, as well as discussing what the numbers mean and giving my own plot speculations. SPOILERS for OBSCURA’s Chapter 1 with every love interest. 

I’m going to be working with the theory that the numbers correspond to the Major Arcana in a Rider–Waite–Smith tarot deck. I’ll be pulling tarot card information from A.E. Waite’s 1910 book ‘The Pictorial Key to the Tarot’, where he discusses the symbolism of the images in the cards and provides divinatory meanings. 

Shoutout to @/starlitmanta and @/mostlygayrage for posting their own analyses before me! I got inspired by both of them to both write down my thoughts and then actually finish the post after leaving it for months lol. @/mostlygayrage has some interesting stuff on the imagery and also delved into the Latin! Although he took it as one sentence which I won’t be doing – I’m going to take the double forward slashes as an indication of a break. 

Disclaimer that I haven’t formally studied Latin in years so if there are any errors feel free to point it out in the notes! 

Cirrus

18. Presbyter // Ecclesiae lunaris XVII: The Moon. Priest // Lunar churches 

18. Obsequium // ducit ad caelum Obedience // he leads to heaven TL notes N/A Tarot meaning To quote Waite, “The moon is increasing on what is called the side of mercy… the path between the towers is the issue into the unknown. The dog and wolf are the fears of the natural mind in the presence of that place of exit, when there is only reflected light to guide it…the message is: Peace, be still; and it may be that there shall come a calm upon the animal nature...” 

Upright: Hidden enemies, danger, darkness, terror, deception, occult forces, error. Reversed: Instability, inconstancy, silence, lesser degrees of deception and error. Speculation I think we can all agree that Cirrus is not trustworthy, hence danger, deception, occult forces etc. Nevertheless, Vesper (if you’ve got a good ending, at least) puts great degrees of trust in him. ‘A calm upon the animal nature’ calls to mind his odd ability to influence Vesper’s choices and force them into saying ‘yes’, but I also thought it might reference something about Vesper putting aside their instinctive reservations about Cirrus’ suspicious character to follow him into an unknown future. 

Leading to heaven is, to me, a bit double-edged; it could mean death or paradise. Very fitting, I think. 

Keir

20. Keir // Cavillatur fur XX: Judgement. Keir // Mocking thief 

20. Fatum // vestrum vel extraneus [Destiny / (calamitous) death] // yours or a stranger TL notes I’m inclined to believe that Keir’s name being his plain name rather than an epithet is probably just part of his blunt kind of character, and ‘mocking thief’ is probably related to his personality too. Also, there is another piece of Latin on that first screen – ‘cultellus’, which means ‘dagger’ and points downwards towards where his dagger is held. Also, ‘fatum’ is a very interesting word in that it carries an intriguing potential double meaning. Tarot meaning Upright: Change of position, renewal, outcome. Reversed: Weakness, pusillanimity, simplicity; also deliberation, decision, sentence. Speculation Waite’s initial discussion of Judgement is very Biblical which I doubt has much to do with OBSCURA’s use of it. I do think the divinatory meanings are very interesting – I think that at a good/best end of Keir’s route, he’ll be able to come out on top and secure a good and/or stable future for himself and/or Mouse Hole. 

My current theory is that, since we have had mentions of Keir and Oleander in each others’ routes, that they have direct effects on each others’ fates. This fits with ‘yours or a stranger’ of course, but also the double-edged ‘destiny or (calamitous) death��� – I’ll speculate more in Oleander’s route, but I think he and potentially most of Mouse Hole will not fare well if Vesper picks Oleander. 

I’m interested in why his dagger was explicitly pointed out and labelled. I’m kind of shooting in the dark here but I think it’ll be significant in the future – either as a symbol of his history (specifically with Oleander, perhaps?) or as a plot device of some sort. 

Oleander

11. Nerii // Periculosum scurra XI: Justice. Of oleander // Dangerous clown 

11. Patiuntur // sicut habes They are suffering // just like you are TL notes More technically, ‘nerii’ is the genitive of ‘nerium’, which means oleander. This makes sense to me when I think about how he’s had a history of changing names – he’s moreso embodying the qualities of oleander (a pretty but dangerous plant) rather than taking it as a definitive name. 

‘Patiuntur’ is in the plural, and suffering might be a strong word depending on how you look at it – the original word is like enduring through something difficult or unpleasant. Tarot meaning Waite basically says that the card has ‘obvious meanings’ so I don’t think I need to look too closely into it. 

Upright: Equity, rightness, probity, executive; triumph of the deserving side in law. Reversed: Law in all its departments, legal complications, bigotry, bias, excessive severity Speculation The second half of the second piece of Latin, ‘sicut habes’, is in the second-person and I’m assuming that this is meant to address Vesper/MC. Maybe Oleander is also looking for something that he can’t find or afford, although the plural throws me off a bit if that’s the case. Maybe it’s referencing Oleander’s previous Vigils (since Vesper is currently holding that position, ‘just like’ they have) or something…? 

Now, here is my plot theory which may or may not be insane. We know that Oleander has committed murder, and was very blasé about it; presumably he’s done this sort of thing before. We know that in his route, Keir has been alluded to, Griff has shown up and Keir is presumably going to show up at some point. I think that Oleander’s involvement with Keir is going to end very poorly for Keir, even leading to the calamity insinuated in Judgement. Specifically, I think that Oleander and Keir are going to be caught up in a serious crime and Keir is going to take the fall, leading to a permanent end for him (death, probably) and the following collapse of Mouse Hole. Oleander will get off lightly or scot-free (Justice’s ‘triumph of the deserving side in law’, ‘deserving’ as opposed to Keir who is indisputably a criminal and receives ‘excessive severity’). 

This could be from Keir and his group failing the burglary since Vesper isn’t there to cover for the injured lookout, or it could be something else that brings in the dagger which was pointed out in Keir's portion of the trailer. I’m thinking murder, honestly. 

Francesco

10. Franciscum // innocentes nobiles X: Wheel of Fortune. Francisco // innocent nobles 

10. Tempus // decurrit Time // runs out TL notes Grammatically, ‘Franciscum’ is in the accusative (the case used to mark the ‘object’ on which a verb acts). This could be a stylistic thing or it could allude to how he’s being ‘acted upon’ by whatever power/influence his family have. 

‘Decurrit’ is literally ‘runs down’ which fits with the hourglass imagery, but I imagine that the spirit of the phrase is ‘runs out’ especially since his route already alludes to that. Tarot meaning To quote Waite, “the symbolic picture stands for the perpetual motion of a fluidic universe and for the flux of human life … the essential idea of stability amidst movement. Behind the general notion expressed in the symbol there lies the denial of chance and the fatality which is implied therein.” 

Upright: destiny, fortune, elevation, luck, felicity. Reversed: increase, abundance, superfluity. Speculation I think that at some point within Francesco’s route, his family is going to be further involved. I assume that these are the ‘innocent nobles’, which makes me think that whatever state or situation that they find Francesco in won’t be very innocent at all. Alternatively, it could be that his family is more innocent/harmless than they present themselves as – depending on circumstance, this could be a big win for Vesper or a big loss because they don’t have the family backing that they thought they did. 

The Wheel of Fortune carries connotations of luck and change in fortune. I assume that Vesper provides Francesco with some degree of ‘stability amidst movement’ and that any ‘denial of chance’ involves Francesco leaving the marketplace and returning to the very clearly mapped out future that his family has for him, thus leading to a bad end. ——————————

Thanks for reading to the end!

[moonchildstyles]

lily of the valley

oleander final part: y/n never pictured that her night would end like this.

wordcount: 16.2k+

cw: lots of talk ab blood and the consumption of blood! some descriptions of people who have passed away, but thats really it!

—————

(Y/N) stood behind the apothecary counter, chin resting in her palm with her eyes gazing out the window. The rain had returned last night, bringing with it a lingering fog and cloudy sky. Barely anyone was out and about, leaving (Y/N) feeling as if she were the only soul left in the village. The same way she had felt since leaving the castle and ghosting through the world without anyone the wiser to what she had learned that night. 

The last week had been one of wandering thoughts and conflicting dreams. More than once, she had woken in a cold sweat, a flashing nightmare of Harry hovering over her, his mouth full of sharp teeth and blood. She would wake with her heart in her throat and lungs tight, but the only thing that could calm her was the thought of Harry himself comforting her. She would replay a fantasy of him coaxing her down from her fright, those concerned eyes and gentle touch helping draw her in.

Soon enough, as the days packed on, those nightmares were few and far between, leaving (Y/N) with only questions and intrigue replacing her initial fear. Distance and time from him allowed the memories of his care to rise to the surface; his promise of never bringing her any harm and the actions to back it up were at the forefront of her mind. 

He had said they would see one another soon, after enough time had passed to allow her to wrap her head around it all. (Y/N) was beginning to itch for that time to come sooner rather than later. 

As if someone had been listening into her thoughts, a familiar bone white horse emerged through the fog, looking more phantom than animal. The rider had long dark hair and pale features. It was Harry's footman—Mitchell.

He was the one that hadn't learned his self-control yet. (Y/N) stiffened at the thought.

The horse was guided right to the apothecary where Mitchell hopped off the stead and tied the reins to the latch outside of the shop. (Y/N) didn't know how to keep her eyes away now that she knew what he was. 

The similarities to Harry only increased as she looked at him through a different lens. They were both impossibly graceful, lacking any flaw. Mitchell moved with a restrained strength, as if he were holding back with every movement causing him to look almost mechanical. She wondered if Harry was always holding back in the same way, but had mastered the art of blending in. 

There was no hesitancy this time when he came in. Stepping over the floorboards, he still lacked any real show of presence as nothing creaked under him or rattled around his weight. His sharp eyes landed on her immediately. 

"Ms. (Y/N)," he greeted with a nod, his voice low and clipped. Reaching into his jacket pocket, he pulled out a familiar, opulent envelope. The last time she had seen one of these was when her father had thrown the piece into the furnace, effectively banning her from going to Harry's home. "From Harry," he murmured, passing off the piece. He took great care in ensuring their skin didn't brush. 

"Thank you," she answered, a small smile on her lips, "Mitchell." 

This time, she didn't wait for the footman to leave before she was breaking the wax seal and opening the flap to the letter. Inside was a simple letter, written out in curling letters on elaborate stationary. 

My dearest, (Y/N), 

       I hope I am not asking for too much to see you again so soon. I know we had agreed on coming together so I may offer answers to any and all questions you have, but if you would prefer to no longer see one another, I understand. If that is the case, tell Mitchell as much and I will no longer contact you if that will make you the most comfortable.

       If you are still open to seeing me again, I would like to invite you back to my home. I will arrange for the carriage to ferry you up here, and we will spend the evening discussing whatever you please. If you'll have me. 

       I hope to hear from you again soon. 

      Yours,

      Harry xx

Just as she finished skimming her eyes over the text, she saw Mitchell out of the corner of her eye attempting to flee just as silently as he had before. 

"Wait," she said, stopping him in his tracks before he could push open the door. 

He moved stiffly to face her, his dark eyes clear. "Yes?" 

"Hold on," she floundered, searching the counter for the steel pen and inkwell she had stored under the podium. "If I put my response on here, could you take it back to him, please?" 

Mitchell gave a single nod of agreement. 

This letter had been exactly what she was hoping she would see today. The small correspondence sparked those dimming memories of Harry she had been treasuring every night before bed. She could hear the words in his voice, see his pinched features and worried brow. 

The only problem she found within the lines was his choice of location. She didn't have the confidence to stage another sneak out in the middle of the night, not trusting herself to keep silent and away from prying eyes so soon after the last time. While she had done a well enough job, no one having approached her about anything they could have seen that night, she didn't trust that she could do it as well this next time when she had more nerves working against her. 

He would have to come to her. 

With her writing nowhere near as glamorous as his, she wrote out: 

      I would love to see you again. I can't go back to your home so soon, I'm sorry. Come to me this time. 

      I will leave my window open tonight and tomorrow. I will be on the lookout for you, and I will let you in through the shop door when I see you're here. 

Her letters looked like sloppy black slashes against his own curling script, but (Y/N) couldn't think much about her handwriting before she was folding up the page and replacing it in the gilded envelope. 

"Thank you," she said, handing the correspondence back to Mitchell. 

She expected him to stay in line with his persona, silently taking the page before he would ghost through the shop and disappear in the night. However, when he lingered after removing the letter from her grasp, she flicked her gaze up to find him looking at her with intensity in his earnest eyes. 

"Thank you," he insisted, unwavering in his eye contact. 

(Y/N) didn't have to ask where his gratitude was coming from. He knew that she was now aware of his condition, but there hadn't been even a single whisper of such through the village. 

"Of course," she offered, a quiet smile on her lips. "Hopefully, I will see you again sometime soon." 

For the first time she had seen, the stoic mask Harry's footman always seemed to carry showed its first crack. The very corner of his lips turned upwards in a smile. 

"I am sure we will." 

With that, he took the now altered letter and placed it for safekeeping in his jacket pocket. He left the apothecary as if he were but a phantom passing through. The only trace of his presence was the bone white horse (Y/N) could barely spot disappearing through the fog.

—————

Shuttering her eyes, (Y/N) pulled in a resigning sigh.

Harry wasn't coming. 

The sun had gone down hours ago, inducing both her father's bedtime and the rest of the village's. Even the pub wasn't garnering the kind of crowd that usually haunted those halls. This was the perfect night for him to visit. No one would even notice him and she could easily sneak him upstairs with the cover of the night and her father's heavy sleeping. 

She had diligently waited just as her response said, with her window cracked open to allow any noise to filter through and her eyes periodically scanning the space. Nothing more than a few bugs fluttering through her herb garden and the bright eyes of a familiar cat could be seen in the dark. 

If he was coming tonight, he would have already been here. (Y/N) sunk heavier into her thin mattress at the thought. 

Another hour—that's what he had left. Then, she would close her window and go to bed. She will try again tomorrow.

Just as her plan came together, she could hear her name being whispered in the night. Much closer than that of a bug skittering through her garden and too vivid to be a dream. 

Her eyes shot open only to see her window shadowed by Harry's broad form. He was lacking a jacket and waistcoat, only clad in fitted black trousers and a billowing top in a matching hue. This late at night, his eyes and hair seemed to be of a coordinating shade, leaving his skin especially pale in comparison. 

"Harry?!" she gasped, startling on her bed, "Wh—How did you—" 

He looked over his shoulder in a quick whip of his head before he turned to her once more. 

"I will explain in a moment, but I think I see one of your neighbours," he murmured, gesturing to her window with a nod of his chin. "May I please come in?" 

(Y/N) scrambled at the thought of one of her neighbours catching Harry perched on the sloping roof of her home, right where her window was open. "Yes, yes," she rushed out, keeping her voice low as she moved towards her window, "Just—Come in before anyone sees you." 

Curling her fingers under the pane, (Y/N) slid it open just enough for him to slip through. Taking a step back, she watched as he fluidly climbed through her window, not even a hair out of place. He landed on her floor without a single sound, turning back to shut the window after him. 

She hadn't realized just how heavy her heart was beating until the vacuum of her bedroom was restored. She settled some though she kept her eyes fixed on the broad of Harry's shoulders. 

"How did you get up there?" she breathed out, trying to picture how he would have made it to the ledge so soundlessly despite her open window. 

Harry's answer came in the form of a sly look shot over his shoulder. 

Oh. 

"Right," she sounded. Another part of his whole existence that she had no idea about. More questions were added to her ongoing mental list.

Harry looked out of place in her tiny bedroom. He was broad and space-filling. He had a presence here among the mishmash of stuff that made up her home, though it was far from suffocating. Standing with his back to her window, his form appearing that much longer with the help of the single flame of candle light casting shadows around him. He looked around her room, a tiny smile sitting on his lips. 

"Do you mind if I look around?" His voice was so pleasant and unrushed, it almost made (Y/N) forget the gravity of their meetup. 

Nonetheless, confined to her spot before the end of her bed, she nodded her head. 

She watched as Harry took in her space the same way she had taken in his: with curious awe. All of her small trinkets, childhood journals, gardening momentos, and memories of her mother were plotted about her room for him to graze his eyes over. His hands were twined behind his back as he wordlessly stepped through the space, eyes lighting up as he looked over the small shelf her father had nailed into the wall when she had finally received her own bedroom. There was a twitch to Harry's lips when he saw the various lengths of twine she had laying over her rickety bedside table; she always forgot she had one waiting before she had pulled another to tie her hair back. 

Her room was nothing at all like his castle. While he lived in rich color, exquisite luxury, and vast amounts of space, she had the opposite. Everything was muted in her room, leave for the dried flowers and tiny splashes here and there amongst her things. Harry could cross the width of her room in three strides with the length being met within four. It was far from the standards he likely had. Despite the obvious differences, (Y/N) could see the shatters of green appearing in his eyes the longer he made himself at home in her room, his features softening and bones relaxing.

She hoped that meant he liked what he found. 

Just when she thought he was planning on spending all night dissecting any and everything he could find in her bedroom, Harry finally turned on his heel, hands still clasped behind his back, to face her with a gentle smile. 

"Thank you for agreeing to see me again," he told her, voice a low rumble, "Have you had time to think?" 

Sitting on the end of her bed, she gave him a small nod. Her bottom lip fit between the blunt ends of her teeth, worrying the sensitive skin. "I have a lot of questions." 

"I figured you would. I am an open book, (Y/N)," he affirmed, coming to stand just before her, "Anything you want to know, I will answer to the best of my ability." 

(Y/N) could feel his eyes on her as she shuffled back on her bed, folding her legs underneath her with her nightgown falling around her form. "You can sit with me if you'd like" she offered, eyeing the empty space on her mattress for him. 

Her heart bubbled in her chest at the realization that she was asking a man to her bed. She had been so occupied on learning her answers and ensuring no one saw them together in the dead of night, that she had completely forgotten the fact that she was alone in her bedroom with Harry. When she had come up with this plan, she hadn't given much thought to the fact that she was supposed to be worried about her reputation (or her safety, if she was considering the non-human aspects of him). The racing of her heartbeat increased that much more when he cautiously took up her offer and crawled onto the bed in front of her. In the back of her mind, she wondered just how terribly her bed stacked up against the velvet covered monstrosities he had in his own home. 

"Thank you," he said, settling himself amongst the folds of her quilt. His observing gaze settled on her with rounded corners to his eyes. "How are you?" he asked, sincerity in his voice, "Have you been well since the last time we met?" 

"I am well, yes," she answered, dropping her eyes to her lap where her hands fumbled with one another, "Just thinking and trying to figure everything out. And yourself?" 

"I've been okay," he answered earnestly, "But, much better now. I'm glad to hear you've been alright; I have been worried I frightened you or been too much that last night." 

(Y/N) canted her head. "I wouldn't say frightened, no, but I've been overwhelmed." She swallowed. "Confused." 

"I understand; I felt the same way once, too," he sympathized, his tone tender, "What has troubled you the most?" 

Peeking at him through her lashes, she swallowed around her suddenly dry throat. 

"The—um—the bodies," she whispered, a pinch appearing by her brows, "You said that you haven't been the one doing... that recently, but you had in the past. What did you mean?" 

Just as troubling as it was for her to ask that question, it appeared Harry had the same issue answering it. 

"I..." he started, cutting himself off before he could get very far with his mouth settling into a grim line. "There was a time right after I had... become what I am now, that I was not myself. I was confused, scared, and unable to think rationally. All I knew was that I was hungry. The food I could find made me terribly ill, and no amount of water, or wine, or anything could quench my thirst. I could only have that." 

While (Y/N) felt as if she already had the answer she was asking for, she couldn't help but to pose her question anyway. 

"What do you mean, that?" 

Harry dropped his gaze from hers when he answered. "Blood."

Her fingers were a nervous bundle in her lap before her body stilled like the dead at his answer. The memory of the corpse she had found, bloodless and pale like snow, reentered her mind. 

"Y-You drink it?" 

"Yes." 

Her heart hammered against her ribs, though the feeling made her think only of the blood rushing through her veins. 

She must have sat there silent for too long, she realized when Harry piped up, feeling the need to mend the shock he had given her. 

"It's not something I want to do, (Y/N)," he started, choosing his words carefully, "It is the only way I can continue living, but please believe me when I say that I have not committed those kinds of atrocities in almost one hundred years. The second I learned that I could survive off of animals, that's what I started doing. I haven't done anything like what has been happening since." 

As uncomfortable as she felt, thinking about Harry drinking any kind of blood or taking any kind of life, she could live with the fact that he was choosing animals over those of her village. She had to eat too, and while she would have loved to keep every animal alive and frolicking around, she had to do what she had to do as well. She couldn't judge him too harshly. 

"But, Mitchell. He doesn't know yet?" she asked, thinking back to the man with the long hair and ghostly demeanor.

Harry sighed, the same kind of sigh her father used to give when her sister was too stubborn for her own good. "He does know, but it is a hard transition. He wants to change, but he cannot always contain himself should an easy opportunity present itself. I am trying to teach him how to work past those urges, but it is taking longer than either of us would like." He dropped his head then. "I am sorry for what you have seen and what he has done when he is not able to think. I live with the guilt just as much as he does, but we are getting better everyday. I hope you can find it in yourself to forgive both him and I."

(Y/N) pursed her lips. "I don't like it, but I can understand," she offered on a delicate breath. Truthfully, Mitchell sounded like a child: impulsive and taking steps forward before taking just the same amount back. "We all do things we are not proud of. I hope he can learn from this soon, and give these families peace." 

"He will," Harry cemented, "I am going to make sure of it." 

A beat of silence sat between them as she rifled through her head to decide on her next question. "Pardon me if this is inconsiderate to ask," she prefaced, "But, is your... condition the reason both you and Mitchell are so... pale?" 

A genuine grin stretched across Harry's lips at her words. His laughter was a quiet huff from between his lips. "I would think so, yes," he told her, likely grateful for the easier line of questioning, "Every other vampyr I have met, we all tend to be on the paler side, lacking that life in our skin." 

It was an odd thing, hearing him talk about all of the others he had met. She couldn't help but to wonder if Harry really was the first she had ever encountered without even realizing. "Is that why you are cold, as well?" 

"Am I?" he asked, tipping his head to the side with a crease between his brows, "I suppose I've never really noticed. Though, the few times you have allowed me to touch you, you are so pleasantly warm I should have figured as much." 

"You think I'm warm?" she asked, feeling a small sense of pride hit her chest. It was entirely silly to feel flattered over a comment about the temperature of her skin, but she couldn't help herself. She was a simple girl, at the end of the day. 

"Very much so," Harry affirmed, dimples pressing into his cheeks as she smiled at her, "You are like the sun to me." 

Now she definitely couldn't bite back her smile, dropping her head to watch her fumbling hands pluck at the seams of her nightgown. "The sun?" 

"The very one," Harry teased, "Though I haven't felt the sun since I changed, I imagine the rays feeling like your touch." 

"You haven't felt the sun?" (Y/N) blanched, a set of questions hitting her that she hadn't even considered, "But I've seen you outside?" 

Harry gave her a pointed look, "Only on cloudy days. I learned the hard way a long time ago, but I now burn under the sunlight. It's a rather frightening experience, if I'm honest." 

"You burn?" (Y/N) pressed, suddenly scanning her eyes down his form as if she could pick out any marks or scars upon his skin. 

"As if I have touched fire," Harry grimly detailed, "But, I am lucky enough that because of what I am, my skin mends itself. I can't remember the last time I have had any kind of injury without an instant recovery or even fallen ill." 

A new lens fell over (Y/N)'s gaze as she looked at him. Harry was always strong in her eyes, both physically and in the way carried himself so regally despite the swirling rumor mill. Now, though, the descriptor had an entirely new meaning. No wonder he was so flawless—there was nothing in this world that could even blemish him. 

He was the perfect predator—and protector.

"You don't remember anything about the night you changed?" (Y/N) asked, mimicking the language he had been using himself. 

He didn't even blink at her shift in conversation, instead furrowing his brow and canting his head as he threw his memory back. 

"Not really," he mused, pursing his lips, "There are fuzzy bits and pieces I can recall, but nothing I can be sure of. Most of my life before is just as muddy, but I can remember a few things." 

"So you don't know how you became this?" She couldn't imagine going to bed one way and waking up another, not a single idea as to what happened only knowing that she was not the same. No wonder Mitchell was struggling; how do you cope with something so overwhelmingly monumental? 

"I don't know my story, but I do know how vampyrs can be made." He flicked his gaze to her as if to gauge her reaction, scanning for any minute change in expression. When he didn't see anything more than a curious blink, he cautiously continued. "There are three different things that can happen when we bite"—(Y/N) tried her best not to blanch at the blunt word—"someone. One is the kind that we use solely when we are eating, of course. That kind usually includes the end of a life." His own tone grew solemn at this example, that guilt he spoke of resurfacing, though (Y/N) appreciated his honesty. "We can make another vampyr in a similar way, though before the end, we have to have the control to stop. I do not know how it happens exactly, but there is something that changes humans and makes them like me. It can take time, but it can happen." 

"Have you ever... made someone?" 

Harry shook his head. "I've never considered making someone like that—it's too risky in my eyes." 

(Y/N) slowly nodded her head, taking in all of the information she was learning. It was hard to think she was only in her bedroom, and not in some fantasy world that had violently merged with her own. "You said there's a third kind of... bite?" 

"There is one more," he told her, sounding somewhat hesitant as he started, "It is called a Blood Bond. It is usually something that is shared between people that are intending to devote themselves to one another." 

"How do they do that?" (Y/N) was intrigued now. This whole thing—being a vampyr—sounded so solitary, she didn't even think that there could be something like this within their culture. A union.

"They have to bite one another," Harry answered vaguely, "and share blood. Usually at the neck." 

"And, it's like a marriage?" she pressed, trying to merge the concept with something familiar. Nonetheless, it was hard to picture her sister's wedding ending with she and her husband snapping at each other's throats.

"Something like that," Harry shrugged, "A bit more binding, though." 

A troubling thought struck (Y/N) then. "Have you ever...?" 

Harry all but blanched at her words. He shook his head immediately. "No, never. Mitchell is the only person I've ever kept in my life for longer than a month." 

While she hated the thought of Harry being alone, solitary in his castle overlooking the village, there was a selfish part of her that keened at the thought that he had never devoted himself to anyone. 

"How long have you known Mitchell?" (Y/N) rolled on. She wanted to get a picture of Harry's existence, even if she didn't completely understand the details yet. 

A small smile plucked at the corners of his mouth then. "You really are quite curious, aren't you?" 

Sheepishly dropping her gaze from his, she lifted her own shoulders in a small shrug. "It is alright if you'd rather not answer anymore, I know I can ask a lot at times. I do not wish to bother you or anything." 

"No, no," Harry rushed, impulsively dropping his hand to land on her nightgown-covered knee, "Please, you are not bothering me. I love your curiosity. I told you: I am happy to answer anything you have for me. I want you to know me." 

Matching her gaze to his, (Y/N) couldn't deny the genuine sincerity she found swimming in his irises. Refractions of crystal green had appeared in the pitch black, giving the look of a moonlit forest. There was a warmth to his expression, giving him the illusion of life with the dimples in his cheeks and the dazzling smile on his lips. 

She couldn't imagine being anywhere, but here.

—————

"What happened after that?" 

Harry directed his gaze towards the ceiling, searching the air for the rest of the story that lay in his head. 

"Nothing too eventful, really," he mused, "I suppose that was when I started focusing on blending back in with the world. I felt comfortable in my control and wanted to stop hiding away so profusely—plus, I was beyond bored with my own company. Brooding can only fill so much time." 

(Y/N) let out a tittering laugh at his words, leaning that much closer to Harry. 

As he spoke about his life, telling her of all of the things he had seen, people he had met, and the details that made him up, the space between them had slowly dissipated until Harry was laying at her side. The longer they talked, the easier it was to grow closer and more comfortable sharing space. (Y/N) had even twisted until she was laying beside him, flat on her stomach with him on his back, hands folded over his stomach. 

This close, she could practically count the lashes lining his eyes, the faint set of freckles that dusted his skin. For a fleeting moment, she wondered what he had looked like when he was human. Did he have perpetually flushed cheeks? Were his eyes always green, or just as dark as they were now? When he was cold, did the chill show on the tip of his nose? 

She didn't allow herself long to wonder over those questions. Harry as it he was in front of her was enough—more than enough, really.

"Was that hard?" she asked, her voice a low whisper as if she was conspiring with him in the dead of night, "Trying to be human again?" 

"At times, yes," he mused, his eyes on the ceiling as he found his thoughts, "Humans, without realizing it, will pick up on the things that make me different and avoid me out of survival—even when I mean no harm. It is hard to feel normal when that happens." 

Laying her cheek down on her pillow, admiring him as her head sunk into the down, a frown plucked at her lips. She could imagine him after trips down to the village, shopping and trying to socialize, though it was no secret the townspeople would rather him stay away. More and more she learned, the less Harry was a creature of the night with blood-stained teeth, and more a lonely soul adjusting to something he never asked for. 

"I don't avoid you," she said, a quiet attempt to make him feel less alone. 

She had the perfect view of the smile that stretched over his lips at her words, dimples and all. The bed dipped as he manueavered on her small bed, laying on his side to face her with his own cheek pressed to the same pillow. Her breath caught in her lungs. She'd only been this close to him once before, when he had traced his nose over the column of her throat just when she had seen his lack of reflection. 

This time, she had nothing else to focus on. He was her everything right then, everything around him blurring out of focus. 

"I know you don't," he responded to something she barely remembered saying, "And I feel so lucky every time I remember that. You are one of the few, (Y/N), that hasn't run the other way. But those other times were never like this." 

Blinking with a flutter of her lashes, (Y/N) felt her skin warm. She loved the sound of her name in his voice. "Like us?" 

"Yes, like us," he said, a rewarding smile on his lips for her, "While it concerns me that you seem to lack any real survival instincts, I am grateful that you are not scared of me." His eyes glazed over her features, taking everything about her in as she held onto each word. "I have been drawn to you for longer than I have been able to admit to myself. Every minute we spend together means something that I cannot fully express." 

"Drawn to me?" she peeped, her blood bubbling under her skin. 

Harry looked sheepish now, the way he flicked his eyes to her before letting them fall. She wondered, if he was the same as her, if there would be a flush to his cheeks, and a pounding in his chest. "You've intrigued me for a very long time, before we even started speaking in passing. I have made excuses to come down to the village, shopping with you when I didn't really need anything. Even though you didn't mean it, you made me feel less alone." 

Tentatively, (Y/N) reached out a hand, her fingers holding a small tremor before she placed her palm on his chest. The chill of his skin could be felt through his shirt, leaving goosebumps on her arm. The slight cold was worth it when she saw Harry all but melt at her touch. She really must feel that warm to him. 

"I have always been very interested in you, too," she murmured, unable to meet his gaze should that give away the exact feelings she was trying to say, "I never understood why anyone would try to gossip or say anything about you. I guess they aren't too far off, though—those rumors." 

Peeking through her lashes, (Y/N) held a smile on her lips as she hoped her tease would land. When Harry huffed out a breath of laughter, his hand landing on her own on his chest, holding her fingers snug, her own grin grew three sizes.

"I suppose not," he smiled, pulsing his hand around hers. 

Gazing at him, (Y/N) could nearly count the amount of green shatters floating to the surface of the pools of black. Everything about him was clear and steady, unwavering. "Thank you for coming tonight," she started, "My initial reaction was overwhelming, and I apologize for that. I would never want you to think that I felt the same way as the others or that you frightened me enough to never see you again." 

"There is nothing to be sorry for," he insisted, ducking his head until he was directly before her, the tip of his nose just barely missing her own, "I am sorry that I didn't assure you enough that you were safe with me and had nothing to worry about. I was planning on telling you myself, I was only waiting until I knew how to say it without using the wrong words." 

"I think you've done alright," she smiled. If she blinked, would their lashes tangle together, or would she need to be just a bit closer for that? 

"You have such a power over me, (Y/N)," Harry told her earnestly, his eyes swimming in devotion with his tone tinted in worship. 

Rolling her lips between her teeth, (Y/N) wondered if anyone had ever felt like she did in her bed right then. Did her mother ever feel this way for her father? Did her blood ever burn for him the way (Y/N)'s seemingly did for Harry? Did her sister ever feel her lungs squeeze and heart batter her ribs when looking at her husband? Did Mr. and Mrs. Wayfield feel their skin crawl with the need to join one another? 

Or was (Y/N) the first? 

Had everyone felt this way before, or had she invented the idea of falling in love right then? 

It was impulsive, reputation-ruining, and entirely unladylike the way she surged forward and pressed her lips to his. If Harry had any inhibitions, he didn't show them with the way he reciprocated the contact in a heartbeat. Molding his lips to hers, he led her through the kiss. It was far from refined, (Y/N)'s lips clumsy and off centered but Harry didn't mind correcting her until his hand was holding her cheek steady and he was pushing and pulling with her moving in tandem.

Drawing away, (Y/N) pulled in a gasp. Her hand on his chest clenched the shirt covering his chest, nails raking along the planes of his muscles. Harry didn't offer her much of a reprieve before he was diving back in, the chill of his mouth feeling nonexistent with the heat that began coursing through her veins. 

While she hadn't noticed it, Harry must have with the way he pulled away, allowing her suddenly aching lungs to take something in. He offered a smattering of kisses along her cheeks instead, affection pouring over every inch he could reach. 

"I adore you, darling," he murmured, his voice dripping like the nectar from a flower deep into the marrow of her bones. "I will never get enough of you." 

(Y/N) could only smile, a dreamy expression as she dipped her head back. A pleasant chill crept up her spine when Harry distributed his kisses down the column and over her thrumming pulse. 

She could stay here forever. Never moving, never changing. Right here with Harry was her home. 

"I wish I could stay," Harry murmured, responding to words she hadn't realized she said aloud, "But the sun will rise soon, and I believe you still need to sleep." 

Drawing away, Harry righted her head with his hand on her cheek, the pad of his thumb tracing her cheekbone. She wasn't sure if it was just her eyes or if it was truly there, but she swore there was color to his cheeks, a flush to his lips. 

"I don't need to sleep," she countered, ready to dive back in. 

Harry barely sated her with a single kiss pressed to her pout. "Yes you do," he insisted, "You are caring for your garden tomorrow, right? You need rest for that or you will be exhausted before you can finish." 

For a moment, she hated that he knew anything about her and her routine. She didn't care for the sage or the rosemary or whatever she was meant to be pruning in the morning. She cared for who was in her bed. 

"Don't look like that," he said, unable to keep himself from laying another kiss on her lips, "We will see each other again soon, I promise. I don't think I can wait very long, either." 

"You can't stay any longer?" she asked, slowly releasing her hold on his shirt. From where she could see out her window, the sun was still down with the sky dark, but she figured Harry would know his limits and timings much better than she. 

Glancing out the glass himself, she could see the gears turning in his head. "I can stay a little while longer. Until you fall asleep, yes?" 

That was more than she could have wished for, truly. To fall asleep in his arms was the stuff of dreams. 

"That's perfect," she smiled, "Thank you." 

Harry responded only by bundling her to his chest. While there was no heartbeat to compare to her own, nothing to beat in rhythm against her ribs, (Y/N) had never felt more comforted. 

Sleep didn't take long, even when she had fought her tired eyes. 

—————

(Y/N) shyly peeked through her lashes as she descended the narrow aisle between the church pews. For the third service in a row, her eyes met that of a dark figure seated in the last row. Harry flicked his gaze to hers for a heartbeat before he looked away, a conspiratorial smile on his mouth. She felt her skin warm as she followed her father out the church doors, rolling her lips between her teeth. 

Ever since he had climbed through her window the first time weeks prior, Harry had been more involved in the village than ever. He had told her between breathless kisses in the quiet of her bedroom that he wanted to see more, that he could barely keep himself away—she was on his mind constantly. With going to his estate in the night wasn't always a smart option for her and her bedroom wasn't exactly easy to hide away in, he was going to find another way to see her. Since then, whenever the sun was shaded enough, he was ghosting among the village with a tendency to haunt the apothecary or anywhere else (Y/N) might have been. (She could only imagine the stack of lavender and tobacco bundles he had laying around his home with the amount of times he came in to shop with her). He had even started showing up for Sunday morning service for another chance to see her, despite neither of them particularly caring for the sermons. 

Their moments were made up of subtlety with stolen glances and conspiratorial smiles, near silent conversations when no one was listening or the quiet confirmation that they were thinking of one another. They shared more secrets than she was sure anyone would even know what to do with. 

She was the only one who knew the real him amongst the chatter, and she was the only person in the world who knew what it was like to kiss her. And, no one had any idea. 

No one had seen the way he slipped scraps of notes into her hand when she passed off his herbs. No one else noticed the way they gravitated towards one another during the after church gathering at the pub. No one knew that he slipped in through her window most nights or how a letter on exquisite stationery would appear when he couldn't. 

No one knew (Y/N) was in love.

So caught up in her head, she didn't even register the chilly air filtering around her as she descended the church steps being her father. She had followed mindlessly even when he stopped to make conversation with another parishioner, not noticing his pause until she tripped right into his back.

Turning around, her father steadied her with a gentle hand and concerned eyes. 

"Are you alright?" he asked, looking over the bridge of her nose that had smacked right into his spine.

"Yes, sorry," she rushed out with a shake of her head, "I wasn't paying attention." 

His worry seemingly settled in permanent lines across his face. "Are you sure? You're not growing ill, are you? You've been off in your head these last few days." 

Unconsciously, her eyes trailed over his shoulder and towards the fringes of the group where Harry stood by himself. She could just barely see the amused curl to his lips. He had definitely seen her misstep.

"No, " she answered, blinking back into the conversation though now she had her own efforts focussing on keeping her features in line. "I'm just tired."

—————

"Harry," (Y/N) murmured against his mouth, "My father..." 

Drawing away from her kiss-puffed mouth, Harry sighed. "I know. I am trying, but you have to understand my struggle, darling." 

She couldn't help the plume of laughter that fanned from her lips at his words. He practically beamed at the sound, his deep green eyes glimmering in the low light of a single lamp. 

(Y/N) loved the way he smiled when they were alone. It was a wonder thinking that there was time before she had even known he had dimples. 

"I'm sorry," she told him, settling into the down pillow under her head. Harry hovered above her with a delicate hand roaming over her cheek, his other propping him up from where he laid at her side. She barely noticed the chill when they were like this, huddled under her quilt with the heat of their breath and curious hands. "I wish we didn't have to worry." 

"Come to me tomorrow," he offered in an instant, a bit breathless as he dropped his hand to boldly skate down her side, "We can be alone then." 

His palm settled over her waist with a pulse, fingers tightening just when he mentioned alone. Shifting in her bedding, he didn't hesitate to pull her closer to him. 

From the heat in his refracted gaze and the exceptional curiosity of his hands tonight, (Y/N) had a blushing idea of what he wanted to be alone for. While it wasn't the first time in the last weeks that there had been the passing possibility of allowing him to push her nightgown up or pull apart her corset, this was the first time Harry had given such a hint to his own intentions. 

For fear of assuming too much, (Y/N) slid her eyes down the slope of his neck. "I don't know." 

Creases appeared between his brows as he gazed down at her. "What are you unsure about, darling?" 

Avoiding his eyes, (Y/N) felt her skin warm. "I—We—" she stumbled, tongue lazing around her mouth while she searched for the right words, "I want to be alone with you too, but... We're not married." 

She didn't match his eyes for fear that she had misread the situations and every other before this that she had sworn Harry was worked up on her account. For all she knew, he wanted nothing more than to speak at full volume and have more than a squeaky bed to sit upon.

Ducking his head into her line of sight, he forced her to meet his gaze. "I would never want to do something that you do not want as well, (Y/N). If you would prefer we do nothing more until we begin publicly courting and doing things in order, then that is what we will do." His hand on her side softened. "This is already more than enough for me—I can wait." 

Despite his kind words, (Y/N) didn't feel any of her stress alleviate. She had already known Harry would never rush her into anything thatch was not ready for, just as much as she knew that she did not feel any real inclination to wait until they were betrothed. But, neither of those truths made her decision any easier, not when there was more than just her own wants and desires to take into account. 

"I know, and I want to, really," she said, reaching out to play with the loose fabric of his top, "I just—It's... I don't want you to see or think of me any differently afterwards. I know it is not proper to want anything outside of marriage—I do not want anything to change if I were to... indulge." 

She hoped he understood what she was trying to tell him, specifically the kind of pressures that were placed on her for the simple fact that she was a woman in society. There were enough stories she had heard of women who had taken what they wanted, or fell in love with another and expressed that love, and were later shamed for doing exactly that—oftentimes by their own partners or people she trusted in her life. She didn't want to be cast aside in case he found that he no longer wanted her afterwards, after seeing how willing she was to be with someone that wasn't her husband.

Harry's features twisted with a frown touching his lips and his eyes saddening. "Have I ever made you feel as if my feelings would change should you spend the night with me? If I have, I want you to know—" 

"No, it's not that," (Y/N) rushed out, already feeling guilty, "You've never made me feel anything like that. It's just that... I suppose I've made myself feel this way. I just don't want you to change your mind about me." 

For all she knew, Harry would have sex with her and learn that he was only attracted to her for the fact that he wanted to be with someone after such a long time. It was not his fault she had these doubts, but they were ones that lived in her head.

Harry didn't shy away from her as she spoke. He only listened, patiently waiting for her to finish her thoughts. 

"I will just have to prove it to you then, that I have no doubts about you or anything I feel for you." His words were solid, unyielding. There was no room for argument. "In the meantime," he contented, his tone decidedly softer as he shuffled closer to her, "Would it be enough to tell you that I adore you? That I care for you more than I have for anyone or anything before?" 

(Y/N) suddenly felt shy under his attention. He had murmured as much to her in the heat of the moment before, but never so clearly and earnestly before.

"Harry," she started, settling her palm against his chest as if to contain him. 

"It is true," he smiled, unwavering in the way he spoke ,"You are like no one I have ever known before, and I could spend my entire existence only wishing to learn you. I know we are not married, or even engaged, but I hope it is enough to know that I do love you." 

Refractions of green sparkled in his eyes, brightening his gaze in a way she swore only happened when they were alone. Her heart bubbled and beat heavily in her chest. She could n longer contain the budding grin fighting to pluck at her lips. 

"You truly mean that?" she whispered, selfishly asking if only to hear it again. 

Dimples were thumbed into his cheeks. "Of course, I do. I've come to believe that the reason I was kept alive for so long was so that I might get to meet you." 

Looking up at him with his words ringing in her ears, Harry was like the moon to her. Never had she heard devotion like that. Even in her most romantic of daydreams, she never could have imagined that harry would say something like that to her, his eyes fixed to hers and his touch an anchor. Her chest practically ached as she processed. 

Her hand on his chest curled until she was fisting his top between her fingers. "I love you, too," she peeped out, the sound of her heartbeat sticking in her ears. 

Harry didn't hesitate before he was sealing his lips to hers once more. It was a hurried, excited kiss, leaving their mouths just a bit off center and his nose mushed against her cheek, but (Y/N) couldn't help but to smile into the contact. 

When he pulled away, (Y/N) could have sworn there was a flush of color to his skin. "If not for how badly I want to do this the right way, I would be proposing right now, (Y/N)." 

"You don't have to," she murmured, surging forward and pressing another kiss to his lips, "This is enough for me." While there was still undue shame she was going to undoubtedly feel tied to any decision she made, she didn't want that to come before what she wanted when it came to Harry. "If you were still offering," she started, dropping her eyes to follow the line of his nose and the pillow of his lips, "I would like to see you tomorrow. At your home." 

"Really?" he asked, his voice an octave deeper than she remembered. 

She nodded, a soft smile on her features. 

"Only if you are sure, my love," he murmured, "The door is always open for you."

(Y/N) could only answer him with a kiss.

—————

Pacing around her bedroom, (Y/N) counted, the numbers climbing in her head. Her simple white dress flourished around her ankles with every step, though she took care to avoid the creaky floorboards. 

When she reached two hundred, she took in a deep breath and strained her ears to listen to the rest of the house. All she heard was the sound of her father's snoring, just as she had when she had started readying herself. 

Releasing that breath, she took quiet steps to her slightly ajar window. She had run over this plan enough times in her head for her brain to go quiet as she finally put it all in place. Repeating her steps from the first time she had snuck out, (Y/N) made it out of her home in one piece before starting towards the long winding route leading to Harry's home. 

It wasn't long before a familiar black carriage and bone white horses hit her line of sight. A broad grin took over her features as she pace doubled to reach the coach. 

"Hello, Mitchell," she chirped, catching the familiar head of dark hair and pale features sitting in the coach box. 

"Hello, Ms. (Y/N)," he smiled at her, formality still hitting his tone despite (Y/N) assuring him more than once that he didn't need to offer her any, "He's been eagerly waiting for you." 

"I have been, too," she confessed through her grin, rounding the carriage with less grace than she figured she ought to have. Before she even had a chance to knock on the door or surprise him, Harry was practically jumping out of the box. 

"(Y/N)," he practically sighed, wrapping her in his arms the second his feet landed on the solid ground. 

Her own arms around his neck, she all but melted into his hold. Harry held her snug to his chest, his face buried in her hair. "I've missed you so, darling. I feel as if it has been years since I've held you." 

"You were in my room just last night, Harry," (Y/N) laughed. As if she hadn't been feeling the same way today, though it was much more fun to tease him.

"Exactly," he countered, stiffening his hold on her to lift her feet from the ground. (Y/N) squealed a laugh in his ear as she clung to him. "It has been much too long since I've held you."

She could offer no argument to him as she wrapped her limbs around Harry, allowing him to carry her into the carriage effortlessly. (Y/N) felt breathless by the time he had her settled on the bench beside him, wrapped in velvet and warmth despite his chilled skin. 

As she caught her breath, the horses started off in the direction of the castle, a rhythmic thumping starting with their hooves against the path. Harry looked down at her with amusement on his features. 

"Have you truly not missed me, darling?" he asked, his voice a soft song filling the space between them. His hand was just as gentle as he removed hair from her face, giving him a full view of her eyes. 

"I have," she smiled, shaking her head, "But, Mitchell..." 

Harry waved her off. "He doesn't listen, believe me. He only wishes to see me happy." 

"Are you? Happy, I mean?" 

Dipping his head down until he could press his lips to hers, (Y/N) received her answer in a murmur: "Undoubtedly, so."

—————

"If you're ready, I have somewhere I'd like to show you." 

Looking at Harry from over the rim of her wine glass, (Y/N) brightened. "What is it?" she asked after swallowing her gulp, the center of her lips tinted a berry red. 

"Let me show you," Harry countered, standing from his place at the dining table before offering her a hand. 

(Y/N) placed her palm in his without a second thought, fluidly following after him. 

Her new gown flourished with every step she took with her hand cradled in the crook of his elbow, the white ensemble having been waiting for her when they arrived at the estate. Though it wasn't as grand as the red one that now hung delicately in the wardrobe, it was no less luxurious. 

The fabric was a satiny cream, gliding over her fingertips when she first touched it. The neckline cut straight across her décolletage with the sleeves being nothing more than swathes of material that draped over her arms, leaving the boned corset to keep the bodice upright. The skirt wasn't full like her last garment, leaving the shape slim and sleek around her form. Harry had practically mooned at her when she descended the stairs after dressing, his eyes never leaving her for long. 

With the way the fabric gleamed and shimmered, (Y/N) felt as if she fit in with the moonlight when Harry led her outside. At her side, he blended in with the dark night aside from his pale features, acting as the heavens around the bright moon. 

The ground under their steps was dewy, appearing as if drops of starlight had landed on earth with the reflection of the sky on the droplets. Looking ahead, through the draping wisteria and dark purple blooms, was the greenhouse. The building was in much better shape than the last she had seen, now with a complete roof and frosted glass on every wall. 

"You finished it!" she bubbled, eager to see if he'd had the chance to fill it with any exotic blooms just yet. 

"I did," he smiled, his profile illuminated by the full moon, "I wanted to make sure I could take you here the next time you came." 

Approaching the door, Harry pushed it open for her to enter first. 

Inside, (Y/N) felt that same wondrous glee she did when he had shown her the ballroom for the first time. This small space put her entire apothecary to shame. 

The space was warm and humid, condensation trapped along the windows. Strung along the roof were familiar bundles of all of the herbs Harry had come by to pick up over the last month or so whenever he wanted an excuse to see her, the air tinted with the matching lavender and tobacco fragrances. The greenhouse itself had shelf after shelf, stretching tables, and hanging pots full of different plants. There were still plenty of places to grow, more room to put more and more flowers and herbs, but there was already enough filling that space that (Y/N) couldn't help the joyous gasp she let out. 

Harry allowed her to wander through, looking over every leaf and every shrub, fawning over the blooms, and finding things she had no name for. When she wasn't so lost in her daydreams, romanticizing everything, (Y/N)'s hobby was her plants. She doted on them like pets, and took care of them every chance she could. Being in a place like this, with Harry, in a gorgeous dress, was exactly what her dreams were made of.

Coming up to an unfamiliar plant, (Y/N) gazed at it with wide eyes. The open leaves resembled that of an open jaw, with spines on the very edge of the leaves acting as teeth. It was colored a bright, smooth green, not a single blemish altering the perfection. Curiosity took over as she reached out, attempting to touch the spines to see if they were as sharp as they looked. She jumped back with a yelp when the leaves snapped together upon contact, acting just like the gnashing jaw she had compared them to. 

In an instant, Harry was at her side, cradling her back to him with her hand clasped in his. 

"It didn't get you, did it?" he asked with a concerned furrow to his brow. He cradled her hand in his palm, the pad of his thumb brushing over her fingertips as if he could heal any wound with a touch. 

"No, I am alright," she answered, canting her head as her eyes stayed locked on the biting plant, watching as it reopened its jaws for the next victim, "Does it always do that?" 

Bundling her hand in his own, Harry followed her this time as she approached the trap once more. "Only when it is trying to eat," he shared, watching her with the same fascination she offered to the plant. 

"It eats? What do you mean?" 

"It is called a Venus Fly Trap," Harry explained, "Unlike the others, it eats meat—bugs and the like. When it thinks it's caught any prey, it'll snap closed and take its meal." 

(Y/N) had never heard of a predator plant—had never even imagined something like this could exist. "You feed it?" 

"It does rather well for itself, I choose not to interfere too much."

She tried to picture something that looked so flimsy, a pair of leaves that mechanically moved together, could trap a living being. "Has it ever bitten you before?" 

"Once," Harry admitted, "It was more startling than anything. That is when Mitchell shared that we would most likely benefit from leaving it alone." 

Without much thought, she reached out once more as if to test the theory that the trap was nothing more than a scare. Harry quickly had her hands bundled in his own, twirling her away from the exotic bloom. He shook his head when his eyes met hers, a lopsided smile on his lips. 

"I have said it before, but it always surprises me how much you lack any sense of survival," he laughed, pulling her hands to his chilled chest, "Though I said it did not hurt, does not mean you should try it out yourself." 

"Sorry," she answered, a sheepish smile on her lips, "I just wanted to try for myself." 

"Don't," he teased, bringing her hands to his lips where he gave her a soft smattering of kisses along the fingertips.

A soft laugh plumed from (Y/N)'s lips as she watched him, wiggling her hands out of his to cradle his cheeks in her palms. "This place is wonderful, Harry. I had no idea you wanted to make something like this." 

He leaned into the warmth of her touch. "I made it for you." 

(Y/N) felt her features soften; her eyes rounded out, cheeks softened around the width of her smile, every muscle she hadn't even realized she was tensing now going lax. "Did you really?" she crooned, following the refractions of light that danced over his features from the moonlight streaming through. 

"Of course, I did," he smiled, "I'd do anything for you."

It was a moment like this that she wondered if she could really handle being engaged for a whole two years the way her sister was. She had spent so many years dreaming up someone like Harry, she wasn't sure if she could wait that much longer to have him be hers in every real way. All she could do was hold him tighter.

Harry's smile widened as he gazed down at her. "I wish I knew what was going on in your head." 

"Just you," (Y/N) answered, "Always you." 

Turning his head in between her hands, Harry pressed his lips not puckered kisses against the palms of her hands. She could feel him smiling against her skin. 

"I don't know what I did to deserve you, my love, but I am forever grateful." He pulled her hands from his cheeks only to hold them against his chest once more. His features, though still swimming in adoration, settled into something more somber then. "I was actually hoping to talk to you about something out here." 

"Oh?" (Y/N) sounded. 

For the first time since they met, (Y/N) saw a small amount of uncertainty leak into his gaze. "I know we have talked some about our future," he started, gaze traveling over her features to capture any and every reaction, "And, I have been thinking about something that I wanted to share with you." 

"Okay," she nodded, trying not to betray her own nerves on her face, "Something good, I hope." 

A faint dimple was pushed into Harry's cheek as he stretched his smile that much more. "I hope so, as well." Within a breath, he was entirely serious once more. "You know that I wish to marry you, right? Outside of just our talks in your bedroom, I have meant every word I have said about sharing my life with you." 

"I do," she smiled, hoping to lessen his worry, "And I feel the same. I wish we could be married tomorrow, even." 

Small traces of relief had his features loosening up, the cut of his jaw rounding and his brows relaxing. "I do as well, but I want to do that the right way, with a real wedding and everything else you could want. Though, I feel that the both of us are rather impatient." (Y/N) let out a small fan of laughter at his truth. "Because of that, I have been thinking and found some old correspondence with a friend that gave me an idea." He paused before continued, as if gathering his words. "Do you remember the Blood Bond I told you about?" 

(Y/N) gave a silent nod. She could recall the short details he had shared with her and the way her mind had traced back to the binding more than once in her daydreams. 

"I know it is a lot to ask of you, as neither of us really understand what a Blood Bond truly entails outside of theory, but I have wondered if... If you might be willing to complete a Blood Bond with me." He rolled his lips between his teeth wrestling with both his nervousness at presenting the idea as well as his hope for her answer. "I found letters from an old friend, someone who knew someone else who had completed the bond with another, and it sounded promising. There weren't many details, but they sounded happy." 

"Were they—" (Y/N) floundered over her question, unable to find the right terms, "Were they both like you? Or was one of them like me?" 

His mouth formed a grim line. "Both were like me. I can't find anything on any couple like us, unfortunately. I suppose we might be the first," Harry posited, the very corner of his mouth turning upwards. 

While (Y/N) was more than warm to the idea of bonding with Harry—marrying him in the way they could without having the follow the steps of courting and engagement while also easing her father into the idea—she was unsure. The lack of details that even Harry knew tickled a part of her mind she had trouble ignoring. 

"Would it...If we did, would it make me like you?" While she loved Harry for who he was, and understood his story, there was little desire in her to completely forgo her own life in favor of a still heart (and the blood thing was still very much not something she had interest in). 

"I do not think so, but, again, I can't be sure." It appeared as if it pained him to give her so little detail. "But, I would never offer this if I did not think it would be a good option for us, darling. Selfishly, even if we can't share this with anyone, I don't know if I can wait much longer before I know I am yours and you are mine."

He peeked at her through his lashes, reflections of green glimmering in the pale moonlight. (Y/N) understood what he meant. While this would be another secret between them, something she couldn't even share with her father, it was enough to look at him and know that Harry was hers and she was his. It was enough to know that there was a place they belonged: at each other's sides. 

Pinching her bottom lip between her teeth she asked, "Does it hurt?"

"Not anymore than I can imagine a regular bite does," he offered, giving a small shrug of his shoulders, "But, I can't be sure. I would do everything I could to make it as painless as possible, darling." 

There was a part of (Y/N) that stayed wary, and urged her to do the same. It poked holes in the logic and filled everything with doubt. There was no easy way to be the first, there was no safe way. There was so much unknown about what could happen should she bare her neck for him and allow Harry to bind them together in whatever way the Blood Bond would do. There was even a chance that she could drop dead immediately after, leaving the rest of her life—including Harry—behind. 

There was no way to be sure that nothing terrible would happen, but the rest of her wasn't certain if that really mattered. She had no way of knowing that Harry was telling the truth when he revealed his nature to her, or if she could be sure that she was truly safe around him. She had no way of knowing that she was doing the right thing by continuing to invite him to her and to fall in love with him on the way. But she did each of those things anyway, because she had felt in her bones that it was right. She had felt that she could trust Harry with everything—every fall down the rabbit hole of love, every time they were alone with her neck at his teeth, everything that her instincts told her was okay because she trusted him. 

That trust in him piped up, flicking (Y/N)'s gaze to match his as he patiently waited for her answer. "Okay." 

Harry perked up at the word. "Okay?" 

The beginnings of an ecstatic grin bubbled over her features. "I want to bond with you. We'll learn all of this together. I don't want to go another day without being yours." 

In the middle of the greenhouse, Harry wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to his chest before lifting her off of her feet. (Y/N) giggled, looping her own arms around his neck and clinging to him as he spun her around. Her dress twirled around them, enclosing Harry in lily white fabric as if he were the center of a moonlit bloom. 

"I love you, I love you, I love you," he repeated over and over, his face burrowed in her neck with his nose skimming the column. 

(Y/N) could only smile, her eyes shuttering closed. She buried her hands in his hair, nails scratching against his scalp. This is the kind of joy she pictured when she finally found her one and she agreed to spend her life with him—another assurance that she was doing the right thing. Something so wrong or hasty wouldn't feel so good. 

Positing her down on the edge of a sparsely populated table, Harry stood between her legs as he settled his hands on her thighs over her silken dress. He had a bubbling smile on his face as he looked up at her, his eyes almost entirely green with only his pupil and a few slivers of the familiar coal remaining. 

"I will write to my friend, and see if he has any more answers. Then, when you're ready, we can—" 

A furrow pinched (Y/N) brow as she spoke, "We're not doing it tonight?" 

Harry paused to consider her question. "I thought... I don't want to push you or make you feel as if we have to do this tonight. I figured you would like more time." 

While Harry was erring on the side of caution—once again being the more responsible of the two compared to her impulsiveness—she didn't want to do the same. She had no fear of the Venus Fly Trap despite almost being caught in its clutches, and she had no fear of Harry and the unknown. 

"I don't need any more time," (Y/N) cemented, reaching to settle her hands on his shoulders with her fingertips digging into the luxe velvet, "I trust you, and I don't want to wait anymore. I waited my whole life to find someone like you—I practically dreamt you up. I don't need time to be sure." 

As she spoke, Harry had his eyes fixed on her, watching her mouth wrap around every word and the devotion of which she hoped he felt. His own lips had fallen open in a small gape, eyes glimmering as if he were looking at the sun. HIs hands on her thighs pulsed, tightening his grip as if he could drift away at any moment. 

He didn't have to say it for (Y/N) to know that he loved her. That he knew what it was like to wait and hope there was someone there at the end who understood. 

Reaching to cradle her cheeks in his palms, he brought her in for a slow kiss, his lips slotted between hers with his nose brushing against her own. There was an urgency behind it that she had never felt from him before. 

"I love you," he murmured. 

The delicate curl of her lips had him pulling away just enough to drag his kisses over her cheek. "I love you, too." 

"I'm not certain in what I'm doing, (Y/N), so I need you to tell me if I am hurting you. I do not want this to be ruined because of me, so please stop me if you feel the need." His lips never lifted from her skin as he spoke, his words being painted across in sweeps of his breath and skims of his nose. 

"I trust you," she reiterated, dipping her head back as he descended lower towards her throat, "I love you." 

"I love you, too," he responded simply, before pulling away, "But you must promise me. If there's even a moment where you are no longer sure, do whatever you need to do to make me stop." 

His jaw was set and eyes hard as he spoke, determination settling on his features. "I promise," she said, her hands still firm on his shoulders, "If anything changes, I will tell you." 

A small curl lifted his lips as he took her vow, features softening. "I will tell you before I bite, is that okay?" 

"Please," she responded, relaxing into his arms as he wrapped them around her middle with his hands spanning the planes of her back. As much as she did trust him, the fact that his teeth would be biting into her neck in a few moments was most likely going to be her least favorite part of their bonding. 

When Harry dipped his head down, the chill of his touch grazing her throat, (Y/N) expected to feel the scrape of his teeth, the point of something predatory catching on her skin. Instead, she felt the soft press of his lips and the drag of his nose over the column. He worked slowly, familiarly, kissing his way along until he stopped. He paused on the side of her throat, just under where her pulse thrummed. 

"I'm going to bite here, alright?" he murmured, "Just long enough to forge the bond, darling." 

She clenched her hands on his shoulders. "Okay." 

Against her throat, she could feel his lips moving though there was no sound. She wanted to ask what he was saying, but before she had a chance that searing slice she had been waiting for finally struck. 

The feeling took her breath away, her hands tightening on his shoulders. It didn't hurt like a cut from a knife or a stab from a needle, no—Harry's bite burned. It was a bubbling burn, as if something inside her was melting all within the span of a second. The searing brought tears to her eyes, stealing her breath before she had a chance to understand. 

Just as quickly as the burning started, it was gone. In its place was something pleasantly cool, like a breeze on a warm day. Her vision cleared with her breath restored. She was hyper aware of Harry's shoulders under her hands, the warmth of his velvet jacket and the welcome chill from his skin. She clung to him, conscious of every stretch of fabric on her skin and every anchoring touch he gave her. It was overwhelming, verging on euphoric, urging her to shutter her eyes and absorb every second. 

The moment could have lasted anywhere from two hours long to two seconds, (Y/N) had no way of telling by the time Harry pulled away. He kept his grip on her firm, his arms barred around her back as she came back down to the greenhouse. 

With a fluttering blink of her lashes, (Y/N) saw Harry for what he was, for the very first time.

He looked at her with eyes darker than she had ever seen before, no semblance of any green she was accustomed to. She could clearly see a flush on his cheeks, appearing more human than she had ever realized he wasn't. The most jarring part: the blood dripping down his chin. It was a stark rub against his skin, staining his lips and coating his teeth.

That was her blood rolling down his lips.

For the first time since meeting him, she felt that fear she had lacked. It was nothing more than a zip up her spine, but it was there. If he were any other person, any other version of him in the years past, this would be the last thing she saw before she would be laid to rest on the forest floor with her throat ripped out. 

As much as she was startled at the sight, the feel of her blood dripping down her neck, she also saw the way he was looking at her. Within the depths of his dark eyes, he was seeing her and tasting her and knowing her for the first time. There was no way that she had been the only one to feel that overwhelming euphoria, not when he looked at her like that. 

In a distracted movement, he wiped his sleeve over his chin, intending to clear some of the crimson though most of it only smeared over his skin.

He was breathless as he spoke, "Ar—You're... (Y/N)." 

Tears filled his eyes as he clung to her. 

Though her hand shook, (Y/N) still reached to place her palm on his cheek. She couldn't avoid the blood on his skin, but she didn't have the mind to care as she attempted to comfort him. 

"I'm here," she whispered, hooking her ankle around the back of his leg, "You did it." 

His hands on her back curled until his fingertips were denting her shoulder blades by how tightly he held her. He shook his head as if to clear whatever was going on inside. "We—It's—Your turn." 

In that second, she remembered the small detail she had willfully forgotten. For the Bond to go both ways, she would have to also take his own blood. The prospect of him biting into her didn't seem so bad anymore compared to this. 

Her eyes dropped to his neck, floundering suddenly. "I—But, I can't... I'm not like you, I can't... bite." 

The fact seemed to hit Harry as well, though his brain was still clearly flooded with whatever it was he was experiencing with his end of the bond forged. He blinked to clear his eyes as he dropped his gaze to her neck. 

"I think—I can take care of it," he offered on a stilted tongue. 

(Y/N) didn't have any time to question before he was bringing his arm around to his lips, pushing his sleeve out of the way until his pale wrist was on display. The same way he had sunk his teeth into her neck, he now did to his own arm, opening up a gash with decidedly darker and thicker blood than she had ever seen before. 

She understood what he was doing for her—taking out the work so she could close her end of the bond by taking in his blood—but she still felt repulsed at the prospect of tasting any of the ichor oozing from his arm. She wasn't like him. She couldn't see any way she could enjoy the taste or the feeling of drinking his blood. 

All it took was one glance into his shimmering eyes, the same ones that had pleaded to her to not be scared of him, that prosed over his devotion to her, that had her shakily taking his arm in her grasp. 

"Wh-What do I do?" 

"Jus' drink, darling," he swallowed, "Quickly. Before it heals." 

For the sole fact that she wasn't sure if she could stomach seeing Harry bite into himself once more, she closed her eyes and brought his wrist to her lips. The second the blood filled her mouth, she wanted nothing more than to retch over and spit it out. It was metallic and heavy, coating her mouth in a way she couldn't compare anything to. 

The first gulp was the hardest—the most troubling. Just as soon as she swore her throat was closing, urging her to gag and be rid of everything she was taking down, something changed.

Similar in the way that there was an overwhelming stillness when Harry had bitten her, she was now left with an overwhelming sense of fullness. Before she had been contently in her skin, aware of every motion and touch. This time, she was conscious of everything that wasn't entirely her. 

She swore she could feel her own wrist warming, her own thoughts picturing her bent over Harry's arm, the feel of her dress under her palm. 

These were Harry's thoughts and feelings she was experiencing. She was no longer just her in that moment. 

The Bond was there, allowing her a peek into who it was that was at her side. 

Including the immense amount of love he was feeling just then. 

She had never been aware of a missing piece in her, never been aware that there could be more of her somewhere, until then. This is what Harry had been feeling when he bit her, when he looked at her with tears in his eyes and clung to her as if she were the only one to give him breath, to make him whole. 

Pulling his arm from her mouth, she didn't think twice of the blood staining her lips or coating her chin before she was throwing herself at him. Looping her arms around his neck, she clung to him with tears leaking down her eyes. 

That was the Bond she could feel pulsing through her system. Harry was now a part of her just as much as she was his. 

There was no doubt their clothing was ruined, blood staining the material that they had no chance of removing, with the ends of (Y/N)'s hair caught in the crossfire, but she couldn't find it in herself to care for more than anything but Harry. 

"I love you," she whispered, her voice brittle under the lump in her throat and the tears glazing her eyes. "We did it." 

"We did," Harry sighed, the smile on his face apparent in his tone, "I love you so much, darling."

(Y/N) could only close her eyes, melting into his hold with the greenhouse falling away around them. She clung to him tighter. 

"I've got you, darling," he murmured into her hair, his voice a soothing balm to her wired nerve endings. 

Relaxing into the moment, a quiet smile etched its way onto her lips. 

This was going to be the rest of her life. 

—————

"Harry, be quiet," (Y/N) giggled into his mouth. 

"Why?" he countered, only pulling away just far enough to speak, "It's just us here, remember?" 

Drawing him back to her lips with her hands on his cheeks, (Y/N) could barely keep the smile off of her face long enough to kiss him back. She sunk further into the luxe mattress under her back with every earnest press of his lips to hers, the first swipe of his tongue darting out to run along the seam of her lips.

After stumbling their way out of the greenhouse and through the gardens, Harry had led her to his bedroom with a kind of giddiness she had never seen in him before. Despite the blood on his face, he was almost child-like in his wonder with the way he looked at her. 

His bedroom was just as laden in luxury as the rest of the castle, though it was clear that there was someone actually inhabiting the space. She could see stamps of his presence everywhere; in the stationery on his desk to the unkempt bedding as if he couldn't be bothered to remake his bed everyday despite having nothing but time to fill. A pile of lavender bundles and chamomile blooms were stacked on his bedside, familiar twine holding the herbs together. 

When he offered her the bathroom to clean off, (Y/N) didn't hesitate, wanting to clean herself from the crust that was forming on her chin and the bits of blood that had dried in her hair. By the time she finished, there was a nightgown waiting for her and an invitation on familiar stationery to join Harry in his room when she was ready. 

Under different circumstances, she would have taken her time, luxuriated in the thick towels and scented lotion. There were different creams and oils that she didn't recognize, the kind she would have loved to take her time and learn. But there was someone waiting for her—someone that was as close to her husband as he could be without sending her down the aisle in a white dress. 

She didn't want to leave him waiting. 

(Though, she did notice that the bite he had given to her neck was healed almost completely. The wound that had bled enough to fill his mouth was now reduced to a pair of pin pricks on the side of her neck, just barely visible if someone was looking. She was going to have to ask at some point if that was the effect of the bond mending her skin).

That was how she found herself with Harry hovering above her, damp hair tossed across his pillow and her hands cradling his cheeks.

"I can feel you right here," he murmured to her in wonder, his hand on his chest where his unbeating heart sat. 

Sprinkling her own kisses along his cheek, she smiled against his skin. "I can feel you in my heart, too," she whispered against his skin.

Drawing away, (Y/N) tried to chase him for another kiss before failing and sinking back into her pillow with a breathy laugh. Harry's smile widened at the sound. His gaze slipped over her with enough depth that she could have sworn his hands followed the trail, goosebumps erupting on her skin. 

"I wish I knew what you were thinking," (Y/N) said, stealing the same line he said to her more than once. 

Matching her gaze once more, he looked at her with gleaming green shards in his eyes. "Just you. Always you." 

Creases appeared by her eyes from just how far her smile stretched. She knew that line just as well. "Of course it is," she teased, petting the pad of her thumb along the height of his cheek bone, 

"I mean it, my love" he smiled, sweeping a hand across her forehead to pull any stray hairs out of the way, "I have never felt before the way I do right now. Because of you." 

(Y/N)'s heart surged at his words. She knew exactly what he was feeling. Through something she was beginning to understand as their bond, she felt the ardent truth in Harry's words as much as she could hear it. There wasn't enough vocabulary available to tell him what it meant to her to feel and hear his love. 

Selfishly, she resorted to tugging him down for a kiss instead, hoping he understood just as well. 

He smiled into the kiss, a good sign, just before he settled in with her. 

With her legs spread wide for his hips to sit between, she couldn't help but to cling to him. There was no other way she could tell him how much she loved him, how deeply excited she was to spend the rest of the unknown with him. The feeling brought her back to the night before, when he had invited her here in the first place—when he had told her he loved her. 

Despite the chill of his touch, she had never felt so warm when recalling the memory. 

Her hands on his cheeks slid down from his face, following the line of his neck to his shoulders. The neck of his loosely buttoned shirt gave way under her touch, allowing more of his cold skin to sit on display for her to graze her fingers over. 

With their mouths slotted together, (Y/N) grazed one hand up the column of his throat unsure of if it was her own warmth being reflected back or if he was feeling the same way as she and something had awoken in his body. Without thinking, she dragged her nails lightly down his skin, entranced by the new skin she had never touched and barely seen before. 

Harry let out a low moan into her mouth, the sound rumbling against her own chest. Through the bond, she felt that touch of euphoria she was only familiar with through the bite in the greenhouse. Her stomach tightened at the thought. 

Pulling away from her mouth, he dragged his kisses down the line of her jaw. "What was that for, darling?" he asked, his voice a deep grumble compared to the dulcet tones he typically served her. 

"Did you like it?" she countered, a sheepish tone to her voice. She hadn't meant anything by it, really. 

It was the smile she felt against her skin that had her relaxing. "I did," he answered, dragging his lips down the slope of her neck, "Is that what you wanted?" 

"I always want to make you happy," she simply chirped back. 

Drawing away, Harry hovered over her with a slight curl to his lips and only a sliver of green showing around his dark pupils. "Your job is terribly easy then," he smiled, "As I can't help but feel anything but completely ecstatic around you." 

(Y/N) could only shake her head, suddenly feeling bashful under his gaze. She looped her arms around his neck and pulled him back to her with her face buried in his neck. She could feel the plume of laughter he let out as much as she could hear it. 

Pressing his weight into her as he reciprocated her hold, he wrapped his arms around her middle in a snug hug. The length of his body was pressed against hers, including the hard to ignore ridge nudging between her legs. While it wasn't the first time she had felt as much between the sheets in her bedroom, it still took her breath away. 

Harry undoubtedly felt her reaction, causing him to pull away just enough to look down at her. "What's wrong, love?" 

She floundered over her words, unsure of how exactly to phrase what she had caused her gasp and the feeling she had in the pit of her stomach. "You—I mean... You're—" 

Pursing his lips, Harry held back his smile. "I know, darling," he smiled, "Don't worry, alright? We've done enough tonight, I don't think we need to add anymore new experiences like we had planned." 

"But—" She unceremoniously dropped her gaze between them as if she could get a peek at what was prodding at her core. "I don't want to... You're not hurting, are you?" 

He couldn't help the laugh that fell from his mouth then. "No, I am not hurting," he smiled, squeezing her to him one last time before relinquishing his hold. 

Meandering out from between her legs, he moved to lay beside her. (Y/N) rolled with him, unwilling to let him go very far before he settled at her side, sharing the same pillow despite the vast amount of negative space available. 

"You don't want me to...?" (Y/N) trailed off, unsure of what exactly she was asking. She knew Harry had asked her over, hoping to take advantage of the time alone without having to worry about the creaks of her own home. Despite the turns that night had taken, she didn't want him to believe she was no longer willing, even if she was a bit exhausted. 

Harry's smile was tender on his lips, adoring just as his eyes were. He took one of her hands that had been clasped behind his neck and brought her palm to his mouth. Pressing his lips to the back in a smattering of kisses, he trailed that line up to her wrist and along her arm until she could no longer contain her giggling. The bright smile he gave in response had to match that of her own. 

"Not tonight, my love," he crooned, "I know we had talked about how we wanted to spend this night by ourselves, but I know my outlook on the night has changed some." His gaze dropped to the pinprick marks on her neck, his features brightening that much more at the sight. "I don't feel any rush to do more. We have all the time in the world to learn each other in that way. I'd rather tonight be about you and I and learning the bond we now have." 

Through that bond, she could feel his sincerity. There was no rush in him, nothing clamoring to take her virginity just to have it. It was more important to him to know his wife—his beloved, his bonded. Through his eyes, she saw the stretch of time they had together and the many nights they could fill between the sheets. There was no rush to be had when he had her for the rest of their lives. 

"You're sure?" she asked, shuffling closer to him over the velvet duvet, "I don't want to disappoint you." 

"How could you disappoint me, my love?" he asked through a dazzling smile, dimples denting his cheeks and perfect teeth on display. He brushed his hand over her cheek, fingertips grazing the fan of her lashes and the height of her cheekbone as if she were the most delicate of flowers in his garden. "You're here," he said in awe, "In my bed, brave enough to bond with me, and looking at me with stars in your eyes. How could I ever be disappointed with you?"

Heart thumping in her chest, (Y/N) looked at him and saw the life he had envisioned.

There were so many nights they were going to spend just like this, laden in velvet and kisses, chilling touches and warm gazes. They had all the time in the world, there was no reason not to savor these quiet moments with him.

All she could do was pull him in for a kiss.

—————

The following morning, (Y/N) was exhausted as she traipsed around the apothecary, though she felt as if she were floating off her feet. She took care to restock each and every cubby, straightening the displays and ensuring only the best of the best were placed out for customers. Her father was manning the register as she did so, leaving her to sit in her rose petal thoughts and appreciate the stiff muscles of her neck and bruises from her early morning climb back into her bedroom.

It was all reminders of the best night of her life, she decided. Her wedding night—even if it wasn't in the traditional sense. 

There was a new piece that now lived inside her, a remnant of Harry's soul that now replaced the piece she had given him last night. It felt easier to breathe, now knowing that he was on the other side. 

More than once since starting her day, her father had asked what had made her so chipper. She had only replied that she had slept well, or simply woke up in a good mood. She couldn't wait for the day that she could tell him that it was Harry that had her heart so full and eyes so bright.

The bell above the door jingled, alerting that a customer was coming in, though that wasn't what had (Y/N) perking up in her spot. There was a fumbling in her chest, as if her heart knew something she didn't.

Looking over her shoulder, her lungs squeezed when she saw who had walked through the door.

Armed with a draping bouquet of wisteria and the tiny bell-shaped blooms of lily of the valley, was Harry. He was dressed immaculately as ever, though she could see a color in his cheeks and his eyes almost glimmering with the amount of green shards that had surfaced. From the corner of her eye, she saw her father stiffen at his presence, though Harry gave her a passing glance with a lopsided smile before even acknowledging his presence.

"Mr. Styles," her father gruffly greeted him, "How can we help you today?" 

"Actually, sir," Harry started, a pleasant voice to match his expression though (Y/N) could see amusement swimming in the depths, "I was hoping I could have a chance to speak with your daughter." 

"She's busy at the moment, but I can help you with anything you need." Her father's voice now held an edge to it.

"Unfortunately," Harry said, skipping his gaze back to her where she stood with her hands knotted behind her back, "I don't think you can help me with this, sir. I was looking to ask for her permission to officially begin courting her—if she is interested, anyway" 

(Y/N) had no hope of wiping the smile from her face, but she did everything she could to keep herself from launching into her husband. Instead, before her father could make any objection of any kind, she piped up with, "I am definitely interested, Mr. Styles. You have all the permission in the world." 

Though she was sure that if she spared her father a glance he would be just as angry as the night he had thrown her invitation into the furnace, but she couldn't draw her eyes from Harry. 

She couldn't wait to marry him. For the second time, technically.

—————

lily of the valley, though delicate, can stop the heart when consumed

ahhhhh that is the end of my little Halloween/fall story! now my break will be starting and ill be back with more writing after the new year!!! thank u sm for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and please lmk if you have any ideas for anythign at all!

[lynnsenpai]

MIS ch.6, p.172 - Lights On

You can also find this page (and all the ones before it) on these sites: Comic Fury Tapas DeviantArt Now that we've checked up on (almost) everyone, let's really get the ball rolling here. The next several pages will be sticking with this crew, and it will run for a few weeks.

So we open the scene with Theo, Eiji, and Belial, now on Oleander Street where they've been told they can find the thieves. Theo is frustrated because searching for the thieves isn't quick and easy. Eiji is frustrated because he wanted to handle this alone. And Belial seems a bit more than frustrated, if we're being honest.

Everyone's a little tense (relatable). It's been a long day (very relatable). Hopefully, these kids won't get overly emotional and say or do things they know they shouldn't. ***

Also, just so you all know: I'm not going anywhere. Shit's scary right now for us in the US, and there's a lot of despairing going around. I definitely don't blame anyone. I'm not going to sugarcoat it: I feel it too. That said, as miserable as I am today, it's all the more reason to keep at it. It is my job to write comics about found families, self-acceptance, recovery from trauma, and hope in dark times. And maybe it's obvious, but I think people are going to continue to need stories like this for a while yet.

My plan after this is posted is to take the day to myself. Eat some comfort food. Play some Metaphor:ReFantazio. Open some virtual Pokemon card packs. Do some light reading. And stay offline as much as humanly possible. Just… do everything in my power to ease up a little. And then it's back to work. I hope you'll be there to read what comes next.

I love you all, so please, take care of yourselves. No matter how hopeless it feels, don't give up. We need to all be in this together.

[lmk-oc-competition]

LMK OC COMPETITION - ROUND 1

click to see full image

Jia Zhutao belongs to @chonggen

Chenguang belongs to @twinklecupcake (art credit: edited lmk screencaps)

Learn more about them below the cut!

Jia Zhutao:

Full name: Jia Zhutao (or just Tao) Species: Hong Niang / Cat demon (she used to be a human before being a cat demon) Gender: Female Age: 1000+ Weapon(s): A fan like kunai Home: Underworld Alias(es): Ten Kings, Celestial Realms (except Li Jing, bc he wants to lock her up in the pagoda), Nine-headed Demon Affiliation(s): Ten Kings’ subordinate Occupation(s): Memory scrolls’ manager, Ten Kings’ diplomat, Soul seeker and attractor Likes: Oleander, Meng Po Soup, cats, mortal realm, Yu Lan Festival, mortals’ celebrations Dislikes: coriander, smelly food, dogs, work Family: Jian Dumu - Twin brother Friend(s): Nine-headed Demon, Meng Po, Nezha Enemies: Li Jing Status: dead? or it counts alive?

Abilities:

Hallucination- Tao can make it into visual, auditory, pain, etc. It is mainly used to suppress out-of-control souls. It can also be used on humans and demons, and they cannot be relieved by themselves. And also can create the phantom of objects, places, but she mainly create the souls’ family members to guide them and bring them to Meng Po.

Shape shifting- Tao can transform into cats, human, also can transform into the family member of the souls that completely out-of-control to appease them. Except the special case she mainly use it to go to the mortal realm.

Ability of seeing the wraiths (cursed souls)- Wraiths unlike the normal ghosts or souls, wraiths will only appear in people who have committed serious sins, which means that these people are the targets of her soul seek. And the wraiths only appear in the mortal realm and won’t appear in the underworld.

Teleportation- Tao can teleport to anywhere, but it only can be used at work or at the Yu Lan Festival (that festival is her holiday ). And when she teleports a bunch of oleander petals appear.

Puppetry- Tao can possess people just like the Lady Bone Demon, but only can possess two at the same time.

Soothe the nerves- Tao has a scent that calms people down. The concentration of the smell can be adjusted, but if it is too strong it can cause coma.

Poisoned body - If Tao comes into physical contact with another person, they become poisoned and die immediately. However, it doesn't affect females or her brother.

Super hearing- Tao can locate sounds up to 100 meters away.

Personality:

She looks gentle, but she is a lazy person. Whenever she wanted to escape from work, she would go to Po Meng's place to be lazy. She doesn't work hard when searching for souls.

She’d never trust to the other except her friends, because during her lifetime, she was betrayed by her lover and sacrificed her twin brother. In order to no longer be betrayed by his lover and never devote himself wholeheartedly to a love, he also developed a habit of killing the other person after the love ended. Until she arrived in the underworld, became a soul seeker, and found her brother. No matter how close the relationship between the other party and her is, they can only become friends or besties at best.

Chenguang:

The daughter of Mei and Red Son, Chenguang is like her parents in so many ways (though, much to their relief, she didn't inherit the Samadhi Fire). Passionate, lively, kind, and possessing blue flames, Chenguang's the apple of her family's eyes - the ENTIRE family. In the future, she'll learn to fight and protect the city like the rest of them, but for now the Bull-Dragon Princess is just living her best life.

[whumpshaped]

Whumpee going into a toy shop and being turned into a doll by the sinister proprietor!

-- @oliversrarebooks

tw doll whump, magic whump, kidnapping, captivity, multiple whumpees, noncon drugging, dehumanisation, lady whump

“Your dolls are beautiful,” Whumpee said in complete awe, trying to take in the entirety of the shop at once. “They’re so… realistic. They’re gorgeous.”

The shopkeeper smiled and stood up from their chair, placing their current sewing project on the desk before circling around to stand beside Whumpee. “Thank you. I can give you a little tour, if you like. Or you can just point at any doll and ask whatever you wish to know about them.”

Whumpee’s face lit up. “Oh, I have so many questions. Are you sure it’s okay? I’m pretty sure I don’t have the funds to buy such fine art…”

“It’s a slow day,” they said pleasantly. “Every day is slow when you sell dolls, honestly. Especially ones like these. People are either scared to approach them, or don’t even want to come in if they can’t purchase anything. I rarely get to ramble.”

“It’s a crime, really. There must be so much to say about them.” Whumpee walked over to one close to their own size, staring into its brutally realistic eyes. It felt like they had life behind them. “How did you come up with the idea?”

“I’ve always liked dolls. It was only natural that eventually, I would figure out a way to make them. And here I am.”

“How long does it take to make a doll like this?”

“Oh, months, dearest.”

Whumpee nodded, not surprised in the least. The doll was a real work of art — all of them were. “And you make them all on your own?”

“For the most part, yes. But the dolls themselves do the heavy-lifting. They have so much personality… All I have to do is accentuate it.”

Whumpee looked at the tag that had been adorably tied to the doll’s hairband, reading the name and the price off of it. They could never even dream of purchasing something like this. “Belladonna…”

“I just call her Bella,” the shopkeeper said with the sort of fondness in their voice that made Whumpee feel like the doll had been created a long time ago, sitting in the store without any potential buyers for a while now. “I made her five years ago, I believe. One of my first dolls.”

“Five years… It looks– well, new. I would’ve never guessed.”

“Yes, dear Bella holds up very well under my care.” They stepped up to the doll and ran their fingers through its long, silky hair affectionately, fixing some frizz in the process. “Patiently awaiting her knight in shining armour. Isn’t that right, sweet?”

The doll was so realistic, Whumpee half-expected it to respond; it didn’t, of course. That might’ve put Whumpee off doll-shopping too. “I’m sure the knight is on their way,” they said warmly.

-

“Good afternoon!” Whumpee said with a wide grin as they walked into the shop, breathing in the scent of flowers and beeswax.

“Good afternoon.” Whumper had the usual serene smile on their face, and a half-finished garment in their hands.

“Has there been a purchase?” they asked, looking around. “It feels so empty for some reason. Someone’s missing.”

“Oleander, but she’s merely in the backroom.”

Over the past few weeks, Whumpee had gotten used to all the dolls being named after flowers and plants; poisonous ones at that. When asked, Whumper simply said they liked the ring of them, and well, they were their dolls, after all. They could name them whatever they wanted.

“How come?” They walked up to the desk and started poking around in the bowl of decorative candy, picking out their favourite flavour and popping it into their mouth. “Did something happen?”

“Her hair wasn’t doing very well in this humid weather. She needed a more controlled environment.”

Whumpee nodded, eyes glued to the fabric in Whumper’s lap. “That’s a very pretty purple. Very… royal, I guess. Noble.”

The shopkeeper glanced up at them, noting the candy in their mouth with a soft smile. “Yes, we could say that. It feels expensive, too.” They chuckled. “And it was. But only the best for my dolls.”

“Can I touch it?”

“Be my guest.”

Whumpee walked around the desk and gently ran the back of their hand over the fabric, humming in agreement. “It does feel very luxurious. Is it for a new doll?”

“It is, actually. I have been working on the doll themself for a few weeks now, and I think they’ll turn out to be quite spectacular. I wanted a dress to match that.”

“Do you have a name in mind, yet?”

“Lantana, I think. Tana. Or maybe Hydrangea,” they mused. “Angie.”

“Tough choice.” Whumpee wandered out into the open area again, checking on the dolls one by one. They had almost become friends in this short time. “I think I like Lantana better, personally. It sounds softer.”

-

“Oh, I could never,” Whumpee said quietly, voice filled with adoration and want. The dress had turned out absolutely breathtaking, and Whumper wanted them to try it on? The offer was beyond tempting, but what if they ruined it? What if they tore it by accident? It was made for a doll, there was no way they would fit into it.

Though they had become quite frail recently. They were pretty sure they’d become sick with something, but the doctors could never tell them anything. Whumper was the only person willing to take them seriously, always offering healing herbal teas and candies from their own personal stash. A kindness Whumpee didn’t feel like they deserved.

Whumper gave them a reassuring smile. “I would love to see it on you. Please.”

Whumpee had no idea why they nodded so easily. Why they just went along with whatever Whumper wanted by this point. Why their wants always seemed to align so perfectly. “O-okay.”

“It’s going to be alright.”

The dress was dazzling: hours and hours of work, all by hand, frill and lace and flowers adorning every inch of it — and they were about to try it on.

They were playing with the piece of candy in their mouth, nervously pushing it from one side to the other with their tongue. It didn’t help with the fuzzy feeling in their head, but at least it seemed to soothe their worries, just like the teas and the scented candles around the shop.

Whumper gently helped them get dressed in the backroom, and despite all of Whumpee’s worries about the size, the dress fit them perfectly. It was as if it had been made specifically for them.

“Wow,” they breathed, barely believing the mirror in front of them. “I look…”

“Beautiful,” Whumper whispered, their expression full of fondness and warmth.

“Like a doll,” Whumpee added with a small smile. The flowery scent was so strong in this room, it almost made them want to close their eyes and drift off. “Though… I think I should take it off. I feel a little dizzy. I can’t imagine what it’d do to the dress if I were to fall.”

“Of course.” Whumper carefully helped them out of it, skilled fingers quickly untying the bows that held it all in place. “You can sit down behind the desk outside.”

-

Whumper turned the key in the lock, opening their shop for the day. They hung their coat and turned the lights on, illuminating the faces of all their precious dolls, sitting and standing in all different positions, just as they’d left them the day before.

“Beautiful weather today,” they said casually. “People will be out walking, for sure. Hopefully, some of them decide to visit.”

They checked on the dolls one by one, gently fixing their dresses and brushing their hair. They were humming as they worked, filling the air with magic soft as silk, wrapping around their beloveds’ minds like a comforting blanket. It was impossible to escape; the sedative scent of the candles, the taste of candy infused with traces of poisonous plants, the alluring tune of their song.

All of them had been caught as soon as they entered the shop and expressed interest. It was only a matter of time before their inevitable demise.

Once the soul left their bodies, it was easy to trap the delicate thing and tuck it away into a little jar, just until Whumper was ready to put it right back in its place. Making sure the fragile human body was prepared to withstand an eternity in the condition they’d received it in was a finicky process, but one Whumper found greatly satisfying.

They walked into the backroom to check the state of their newest acquisition, noting with a pleased smile that the body was finally ready. They took the glass bottle with Whumpee’s matching soul in it, uncorking it and raising it to their doll’s lips to allow it slip back inside.

Whumpee’s glassy eyes were suddenly filled with life, confusion and fear taking the place of the blank, corpse-like stare. Only for a moment, though. Only until Whumper ran their fingers through their hair, gently shushing them.

“The dress really does look gorgeous on you,” they cooed. “I can’t wait to put you on display, so everyone else can admire you too.”

-

The soft chime of the bell above the door signalled the new customer’s arrival, and Whumper greeted them with a smile. They seemed entirely mesmerised by the doll collection, asking all manner of questions after Whumper assured them it was fine to do so.

The stranger spent a few moments looking at the tag that had been adorably tied to one of the dolls’ hairbands, reading the name out loud. “Lantana…”

“I just call them Tana,” they said fondly. “They’re the latest addition to the family.”

[throneofsapphics]

chaos incarnate

Rowaelin x f!Reader

Summary: Day 25, “Really, poison again? Get more creative.”

Warnings: attempted murder, reader is unhinged 

A/N: this is honestly more of a crack fic, I've hurt myself enough

kinktober masterlist

You took a sip of the wine, wine you know is poisoned. They really are idiots, you can smell Oleander a mile away. You’d know, having micro-dosed on them since you were old enough to understand what ‘poison,’ meant, maybe even earlier. Then again, you were raised by a paranoid herbalist. 

“Oleander,” you purred - eyes on the man who’d poured your glass. “Really, poison again? Get more creative.” Everyone went still, every glass thunked back against the table. The entire room flew into chaos. 

Fenrys himself whisked you away, chuckling amusedly at the scene behind him. It was the first attempted assassination in several years - at least in Terrasen. Any poison at a table found its way to you. By your own machinations, of course, and this isn’t the first time you’ve done it. There would be hell to pay later, but for now the small bit of chaos pleased Temis, the Goddess who’d watched over you your entire life. 

“They’re going to be pissed,” he commented, a wry smile on his face. Sometimes he seemed to be the only one who understood. Exactly why you were that way. Others might think it’s a ‘noble,’ thing to do, but really you just liked the chaos it caused, and the bit of danger - the thrill of living on the edge. 

Of course, you didn’t have a ‘death sentence,’ you’d been raised like this - and knew your body could handle most poisons. Even if you still threw up for a few hours later. 

-

Pissed was an understatement, Rowan thought Aelin might actually start throwing things around the room. This hadn’t happened in years, at least in their court. Any time you visited other courts, you’d pulled the same trick. Switching drinks and plates with your magic, something he couldn’t figure out how to stop you from doing, not without a lack of trying. Of course, you didn’t actually drink or eat the poison each time - it depended on ‘how deadly it is’ according to you. 

He shoved a small antidote at you. Refusing your arguments on how it ‘reduces the tolerance,’ and threatening to shove it down your damn throat. You took it with a scowl, and he watched to make sure you swallowed every last drop. 

“When will you stop doing that?” He hissed at you. The fact that you didn’t look apologetic at all pissed him off even more. 

“When people stop trying to kill you,” you shrugged, your voice honeyed with false innocence. Never, then. 

“I don’t know if I want to kiss you or throttle you.” Aelin muttered. 

Rowan shot Aelin a look that said, ”don’t encourage her.”

“Sorry,” you answered, tracing a finger around her mouth. “Poison.” 

“Throttling it is,” Aelin mused - Rowan saw the mischievous gleam in her eyes, and so did you because you sprinted out of the room with Aelin chasing after you. He heard your combined laughter coming from the hall, and to his chagrin it soothed some of the anger inside him. 

[amatilinen]

WILD HEADCANONS FOR LAWRENCE OLEANDER VOL. 2

1). Bro, he is pisces according to the horoscope and this was confirmed by GATO. (He has 12 or 9 tarot arcana, I'm sure + he has 100% asc in cancer) 2). Lawrence was not bullied at school, he was stupidly afraid and avoided. (The Belarusian saying: don't touch the shit, otherwise it will stink even more - this is about HIM). Once he was teased in high school, which ended with Lawrence beating his abuser very badly when he was returning home in the evening. 3). If he understands memes, they would be SUPER SURREAL AND WEIRD or just hyper dumb. (even Ren didn't understand his joke.) 4).Sometimes, (very rarely, when he is at his best), he may lie down on your lap, just to get a little human warmth. It's possible!! He will even tell you to pat him on the head. (I think it would have been 1 or 2 times, he would have eaten himself with shit for such "courage"). 5). Of course, Gato said that if you kiss him, he will jump away from you in fear and run away into the forest for a few days, but… If, again, you are gentle and patient with him… God, he's going to fixate on those fucking kisses. He will want a kiss before going to bed, a kiss after waking up, before he leaves for work, after he returns from it. If you melt it properly, it will really be your doggie. 6). Putting aside all the tenderness, he does not look like a gentle downtrodden boy, even when he is just doing his business. Even when he's doing something in front of you. He looks like that most of the time… Prickly. Definitely not the kind of person who has a delicious aura and wants to approach. The second variant of Lawrence's basic states is total sadness. He often looks upset and abandoned. It is clear why. 7). Let's delve into the topic of relationships. IT'S IMPOSSIBLE TO TALK TO HIM ABOUT WHAT YOU OR HE DON'T LIKE. If you tell him, EVEN VERY POLITELY, that you are not satisfied with something in his attitude towards you, he will really run away into the forest and cry there for several days. He'll come back looking like a battered dog and probably won't talk to you because he feels guilty. 8).He doesn't lie very well, but he won't tell the truth head-on either.

[loonybun]

Meeting Aisling (CYOA) 3

hiiiii ough this took forever :( don’t feel like it’s super good but new character! yay!!! he’s normal guys i promise (fingers crossed behind my back)

contains: captivity, faerie carewhumper, dryad guy of unknown whumperee status, references to past abduction(s), fantasy whump, fantasy setting, manhandling.

—————————————————

You decide to look for anything that could help you escape— or at the very least tell you where you are. The window is the obvious thing to look at, considering it’s the only other possible way out of the room. The gaps in the vines are big enough for you to stick your hands through, but you probably couldn’t get much further.

From the holes, you can see a village beneath the structure you’re in. People. There are people here. If you made enough noise, maybe someone would come and save you.

The trees around the village are thicker than most of the houses. Massive structures that you can’t even see the tops of. Branches as big as trains.

Even if the window wasn’t obscured, it’d be too high to jump from. You’re not going to have much luck with it.

You walk over to the vanity in one of the other parts of the room. The mirror greets you with your disgruntled state, twigs and flowers sticking out of tangled hair.

The table is covered with all kinds of trinkets. Bells, flower circlets, crystals, little animals made of glass. It may have been a charming collection under different circumstances, but unfortunately you don’t have time to focus on something so small.

Besides the vanity, there’s also a desk filled to the brim with papers and books. Bottles of ink line the shelf above it. Great, the weirdo that kidnapped you is a writer. You can definitely use that to escape. Maybe threaten to set some of his manuscripts on fire or give him a bad review. That’ll show him.

You groan and go back over to the bed, flopping onto the soft mattress. Despite your amazing investigative skills, you’d somehow neglected the plate of fresh berries on the bedside table. Just looking at them makes your mouth water.

If you’re going to escape, you have to have some fuel in you, right?

As you reach out to grab one of the fruits, something snaps around your wrist and yanks it away.

“Don’t eat that.”

The roots around your arm squeeze it tightly. After you recover from the shock, you turn to face the source of the voice.

The tree.

The fucking tree.

Or what was a tree five seconds ago, at least. Of course. Why not? Magical bug men, talking trees, sure. Just throw in a dancing bear at this point.

The tree— or man, you’re not sure what to describe it as— is giving you a hard glare. It’s entirely made of wood, save for its flowering hair and a few rogue blossoms. If looks could kill, you have a feeling that they wouldn’t be able to put your corpse back together.

It slowly retracts its branches from your wrist, forming them back into a more hand-like structure.

He inspects you for a moment.

“…His standards get lower by the hour. Goodness, where did he even find you? A dog park?” The— whatever he is, scoffs.

Your cheeks flush with embarrassment. He wasn’t wrong, you did look like a mess, but that doesn’t mean his words don’t hurt.

He plucks a leaf from your hair and grins. “I mean, this is just sad. And I thought the last one was bad… No, you take the cake. Anyways, how long were you planning on staying here? Come up with any daring escape plans yet? Please, do tell.”

Even if you had, telling this thing seemed like a bad idea. He definitely doesn’t have your best interests in mind.

“What?” The man(?) frowns. “Too harsh? Alright, fine. I should have just started with names. Have you given yours to him yet?”

You shake your head.

“Good. Don’t. Anyways, since you won’t have much of a use for it anyways, mine is Oleander. You don’t have to give me yours if you don’t want to. I’d like to keep this interaction as quick as possible. Feel free to ask questions though. Better to hear it than learn from experience in this case.”

Well, you sure had a lot of questions. Why are you here? Where is here? What is he? What snatched you away to begin with?

“Ohh, you’re one of the panicky ones. Alright, well, for starters, you’re in a tree. Or a palace. Whatever you’d like to imagine it as, honestly. I don’t know the exact reason you were brought here, but I have a few guesses. Let’s just say none of them are situations anyone would want to be in.” He keeps up with your rapid-fire, only taking a moment in between questions.

“I’m what’s called a dryad. Essentially, a plant with a consciousness and a body created by magic— You do know what magic is, right? Yes? Alright, that saves some explaining. I don’t really want to get into detail about what a faerie is, but that’s what the other man was. Anyways, I’ll be brief, I don’t want you here, and I’m assuming you don’t want to be here either, right?”

You nod.

“Good. That saves me some trouble. I’m going to help you escape. Now, he’s probably going to be back within the next ten or so minutes. You’re not going to mention me to him, understand? He doesn’t know I exist, and I want to keep it that way.”

After you give another nod, he sighs in relief. You watch as Oleander moves back towards the center of the room, his wood skin slowly morphing, bending, and reshaping until you’re left “alone” again.

Your chest feels lighter. There’s still a chance to escape. While you’re still not entirely sure you can trust your new companion, he’s still a failsafe if you can’t find another way out of here.

Just a few minutes later, the door swings open and a familiar person enters the room.

Person? Was that right?

Ai smiles at you, slit pupils you hadn’t noticed previously practically glistening when he spots you at the far end of the room.

“Oh— Hi! You’re awake now? Is everything alright? You look a little shaken up…” He flutters over to you.

Flutters. Right. Wings.

You can’t help but stare. Whatever you’d met in the woods hardly resembled him now. The fae in front of you dawned a long, fairly intricate cloak. His skin— or fur, it’s honestly hard to tell, is a soft pink. He’s not unpleasant looking in any sense, just… Unusual. If it weren’t for the sharp teeth, he’d almost look approachable.

He’s acting like he’s actually concerned about you. Like he didn’t just take you to an entire new dimension. Like there’s any other reason that you’d be upset. You just continue to stare, unable to create a response with the knot in your throat.

Ai sets a hand on your shoulder reassuringly. “Upset? That’s okay. I know it’s a lot for you to take in. I hope you don’t feel like I was trying to deceive you before in the woods… I just thought you seemed interesting! I wanted to get to know you a bit before… Well, before all of this. I didn’t mean to rush you.” You’re hardly paying attention to what he’s saying. He kidnapped you. Of course you’re upset!

“You probably feel scared, don’t you? I… I want to say that I won’t hurt you. Those aren’t my intentions with you. Why don’t we get to know each other a bit better? I want to understand you, and I want you to be able to understand me, too. I know this isn’t the best first impression… But I really didn’t want to have to mess with your memories again. I want to do it right this time.”

This is insane. You can’t read him. What does he want from you? He said he doesn’t want to hurt you, but none of his actions so far have even slightly supported that. He abducted you. He chased you through the fucking woods. What other reason could he possibly have for keeping you here?

“Go ahead, ask me anything.”

taglist: @whumpy-wyrms @inkwell-and-dagger @lordcatwich @kawaii-cakes @enigmawriteswhump (let me know if you want to be added!!!)

[florencetypemaniacs]

▪︎ Links:

☛ {[DEMO]} | Chapters 1-3

☛ {[MOODBOARDS]}

☛ {CHARATER PORTRAITS: ["Book Club"], [Part 1]}

☛ {SHORT/SIDE STORIES: [Marcel's Past], [Trick or Treat], [Suprise Party], [Apologies],[Workaholic]}

☛ {SPICY SHORT STORIES: [Nurse Owen]}

My Inner Sins is an interactive fiction game series being made with SugarCube (previously Harlow) on Twine. It has an urban supernatural theme where you will discover things about yourself, your family, and maybe even the hidden truth about your town. In this tale, you will meet new people, but beware; you don't know who you can trust or who has a knife to your back. 

☛ Content Warning: My Inner Sins is an interactive fiction game for players 16 and older that focuses mostly on NPC interactions and character growth. It will feature violent scenes, sexual themes, mental illness, suicidal thoughts, and strong language and is meant for older audiences.

☛ About the Author: Hello, I go by Florence (she/her), and this is my first interactive fiction; however, this world has been in my mind since I was thirteen and watched Twilight for the first time. I plan for this to be a three-book series; however, I am a full-time college student. If you want to support me, then please send me words of encouragement via Tumblr or Itch.io. I want to make a series out of this story and the characters I created, but I want to make sure people enjoy this world and this story as much as I do. 

Four new people end up coming into town, and while that might be a little strange for the small town of Lockwood, Massachusetts, they seem to be keeping a watchful eye on you. But why should that matter? You have other things to worry about, like the feeling that you are being watched....

But everyone is welcome in Lockwood.....

Simple. Those were the words that once described your life, and you would’ve nodded your head in agreement. Your day was a never-ending cycle of the same thing. Wake up, go to work downstairs at your Aunt Zinnia's tea shop, try not to fall asleep at the cash register, sneak yourself a few muffins, go to sleep, have weird nightmares, and repeat for another day. So, it would be an understatement to say that you didn’t expect your life to be turned upside down by demons. 

While most normal family secrets are mediocre or maybe a bit surprising, those of your family, the Oleanders, are mind-blowing. You find out that your family is best known for being monster hunters, or were until your mom fell in love with a demon, making you not only have the most profound hunter blood through your veins but also make you a cambion, a half-human, half-demon spawn. 

Now, with an ancient evil coming after you, you have demons coming back to the mortal plane once again after already dying to guard you. Will you dive headfirst into this supernatural world, or will you crumble under the pressure this new world puts on your shoulders?

▪︎ Features:

☛ Play as a male, female, or nonbinary

☛ Customize your appearance

☛ Pick your MC's first name

☛ Pursue romance and/or friendship with 6 different characters.

☛ Have wholesome moments with the characters and maybe even babysit a seer.

☛ Discover lasting romances or friendships with the champions of the seven hells.

☛ Define and refine relationships with a variety of characters, including friends, family, or dream demons.

☛ Decide how you will choose a skill from stealth, knowledge, athletics, or charisma.

☛ Play matchmaker

☛ Name your cat familiar, pick their breed, and personality!

☛ Shape your MC’s future and some of their past

💙 Lust

☛ Rosemary “Rosie” Brown | F | 5’2 | 22 years old???

Rosie is a figure of beauty, with a charming personality that could make anyone swoon and a love for all things fashion. Growing up in the "Jazz Age" has equipped her with an easygoing attitude that didn't stop after she died, taking up the position of Courtesan of Lust and later joining Hell's Champions. Now, on a mission to protect you, she starts to feel again, not just lust but love.

☛ Description: Her skin is a rich cocoa brown, with dark brown eyes and thick eyelashes. She has short, black, and curly hair that is loosely styled. Very short in stature with a slender build. 

☛ Warning: Past Abusive Relationship, Trust Issues, Talk of Receiving Racism

☛ Trope: Optional Friends With Benefits to Lovers, Sworn off relationships

❤️ Wraith

☛ Owen O’Conner  | M | 6’4 | 32 years old???

With titles granted to Owen by King Alexander the Third, it was no secret that he was the best fighter even with his brash attitude, in the knighthood however his honor was stripped away after losing the person that mattered the most to Owen. His losses carried with him into the afterlife, becoming the Warrior of Warth and later a Hell's Champion and has sworn to his master to protect you (even with your Aunt Ziannia on his "Kill List"). Will you start to become more to him than just a job?

Description: A Scottish man with freckles, pale beige skin, light blue eyes, and faint scars all over his arms and chest. He has long ginger hair, usually styled in a man bun, so it is out of the way. Tall in stature with firm muscles and broad shoulders.

☛ Warning: Past Alcohol Abuse

☛ Trope: Emotional scars, Learning to Love again, Forbidden Love

💛 Greed

☛ Marcellus “Marcel” De Rosa  | M | 5'9 | 22 years old???

Marcel always believed the gods left him; growing up on the streets, the death of his best friend, and the sickness that was killing his brother didn't leave much room for hope. However, through all the loss, Marcel had a golden heart that showed everyone kindness even if they might not have deserved such. In the afterlife, he earned the title of Advisor of Greed and later became the leader of Hell's Champions, which were sent to keep a watchful eye over you.

Description: He has a warm, olive skin tone and light brown eyes that complement his lithe build. He has curly, dark brown hair that seems to have never been touched by a brush. There are burns on his feet.

☛ Tropes: Widow/widower, Golden Boy

🧡 Gluttony

☛ Marguerite “Margaret”  Badeaux | F | 5'8 | 21 years old???

Growing up in a high-class society, it was no surprise that Margaret was unaware of the revolution until it was too late. Dying at the hands of people who saw her as "scum," she carried the burden of never knowing the harm her family had caused until Margaret crossed over. Burying her sadness under the aura of sunshine, she started helping as many people as she could in the afterlife, earning the title Healer of Gluttony and later joining the ranks of Hell's Champions sent to watch over you. Will you be Margaret's first love?

Description: She has a pale skin tone and dark blue eyes that complement her slender build. She has light brown and choppy hair. There is a horizontal scar on the back of her neck

☛ Warning:

☛ Trope: First Love, Sunshine RO

🩵 Sloth

☛ Tai Huang | M | 5'6 | 23 years old???

Being the child of a Chinese immigrant during the Industrial Revolution, Tai learned to be determined and have a good work ethic. When a tragic accident left him taking his last breath, Tai used his direct and intelligent personality to earn the favor of the Princess of Sloth, giving him the title of Spy Master of Sloth. Tai is keeping a watchful eye on you as the only doctor in Lockwood. What is he hiding behind those tired eyes?

Description: He has a pale skin tone and green eyes that complement his slender build. He has chin-length black hair. Scars all over his chest and legs.

☛ Warning: Talk of receiving Racism

☛ Tropes: Grumpy RO, Lover in Denial, Honesty...he is a total tsundere

💚 Envy

☛ Zane Blackburn | M | 6’1 | 25 years old

Forgotten. Alone. Anger. That's all Zane has ever felt; when everyone seemed to abandon him, Zane placed his loyalty in the being that wanted you dead. Through nightmares, you can communicate with him. You seem to find that behind his sarcastic and crass attitude, Zane is hiding his broken past.

Description: He has a pale skin tone and gray eyes that complement his swimmer build. He has styled, platinum blonde hair that seems to have too much hair spray. There are no scars on his body.

☛ Warning: Received emotional and physical abuse through Guardian, (Early Relationship) manipulation, suicidal tendencies

☛ Tropes: Rivals, Forbidden Love, Enemies to Lovers

[dreamtydraw]

I hear you, dreanty. I have had my hyperfixation on obscura for a while now, and Keir specifically has me in a chokehold (tho my favorite will forever and always be Oleander). The way Keir is so connected to his role as mouseholes leader and wants to protect everyone is so urgh <3, and the bickering between him and vesper is so good!

anyway, feel free to yap about it!! Obscura is so great

~🌿

Okay thank you for holding my hand and letting me yap. Spoiler for keir’s chapter 2

Please don’t mind how badly it’s written I’m literally writting how i feel about keir x vesper with no filter straight out my mind.

I really like Keir and Vesper relationship as a whole ans the fact they banter yet accommodate to each other in a way that isn’t romantic per se but very close. They are close, they live together they share a house and they have this casualty that makes their banter more banal. Vesper is expected home, someone expect them home and care enough to wait for them when they aren’t there. Vesper wants to decorate the house, to put a part of themselves in the space they share, the only place under the mountain that is their home cause it is ! It went from Keir’s home to their home !

They both talk to the bones of the house, they have habits and familiarity and it’s a sene of love that isn’t automatically romantic but it’s love ! ( that why I’m devastated about the ending of chapter 2 btw- )

They are close to each other but thinking the other don’t share the feelings they keep their guard up. That why Keir asking about vesper eyes is so intimate. Like it’s so much more intimate than him asking if vesper has a deadly ilness ! This is a question you ask because you care about the other one, there is yearning in knowing more about them because you want to know more about them, they aren´t just someone random it´s the person who's being haunt you, you need to get a grap of the slighlest detail about them to hold it dear to your heart. Keir gets upset if you say you lied about your eyes beause he trusted you first hand, it´s the first time he blindly trust you.

Also Keir keeps saying about « when i’ll see your face » in his mind it’s a fact that at some point he will see their face it’s no an « if » it’s a « when » He fully assume or wants to believe that it will happen. He dosen’t want to idealize vesper but he think about it, he think about them and what they might look like. Keir desperately wants to know about the most private knowelge about vesper, what do you look like, you are special you are Vesper and i need to see you humanly i want to see you humanly.

Also the fact that he laters calls the market event a date ? In his mind he was being very obvious about his feelings but going out to buy furniture for your shared house being taken as a date ??? That casual married couple activity I’m sorry-

Now about the tooth gap if you choose to say you have one not only it’s a revelant information about yourself ( and when listing your face attribut he says nice smile instead of simply tooth gap + vesper later on has a dialogue when they say they would be happy with the thought that he might find his smile cute ) BUT ALSO- this information comes back later after he kissed vesper. His mention of feeling the tooth gap has me on the ground because he can’t see vesper, he still can’t answer the question that has been haunting him but feeling the tooth gap makes it more real, it’s there and it’s Vesper’s face. It’s not just a word that could be a lie, it’s a real fact that he gets to feel.

I am now out of battery so i’ll stop here to go find a charger but my fucking god- i am unwell.

[aquato-family-circus]

Interns & Teachers hcs best to worst

Morris obvs we know doesn't wanna trade his mentorship with Milla so they must get along well, or at least he thinks so! I think he really respects and admires her, and wants to impress her. Milla on her part is textually a very good teacher and caregiver so she probably has given Morris a lot to work with to grow and improve. Maybe Morris was even more of a rascal and trouble maker before we met him and Milla taught him to at least put that energy toward something productive. Like Pirate Radio!

I don't USUALLY like going to extra material for things I think are true but the art book says Adam is senior to the other interns which I think implies he actually has spent plenty of time with Truman, rather than the impression the game gives of "none at all hes in a coma, lol".

That being said I imagine their mentorship is on a very professional feeling level. they get along and maybe Truman even tries to be friendly and casual with the boy, but Adam is super focused on being a good student and working on his big historical project. After the mole incicent though maybe he loosens up! He nearly lost the chance to talk to his mentor ever again after all.

Gisu and Otto are super duper casual in contrast to Adam and Truman. Gisu skateboards into his lab, yells WHATS UP TEACH! Otto says something abt his latest project before throwing a wrench at Gisu who catches it mid sick skate flip because Otto just expects her to help with said project in exchange to credits + not having to do homework for a week. They barely talk outside of this bc the agreement is not spoken and just based on vibes and knowing winks.

After the games I think Lizzie swings back to Compton's and he gives her a stern look and a raised eyebrow like you didn't do my assignment? and Lizzies like dude I tried man. and she thinks shes gonna get a lecture but instead Compton's like I'm sorry about that, let's start over, and then they play chess and he wins 3 times in a row. He learns Lizzie likes "weird" and "ugly" animals like bugs and rats and he makes some new assignment about just observing them in the wild, maybe try to talk to them if she can! and reporting back to him. Lizzie still thinks thisis a bit lame but at least she doesnt have to set up a Goat Trap so its an improvement

Sam learns what Coach did at camp and she doesn't do anything actively malicious but she does give him horrible stink eye for like a week. afterwards they go back to getting along surprisingly well aside from all the times Sam says some shit that sounds oddly like a threat but it goes over Oleander's head like half the time.

If Adam and Truman are a good professional vibe, Norma and Hollis are a bit of a stinky professional vibe. Hollis obviously thinks shes a capable young girl, she did let her teach class while she was off meditating about bills. But Norma wants so much more than that and tries so so so hard to impress her even though she ALSO thinks her homework assignment is boring and childish. She goes to Hollis' office like I want a different assignment, with the unspoken want "do not treat her like a child". and Hollis is like oh ok do you want to learn some advanced techniques that come from reading this big dry book of theory as big as your head. and Norma is like well, no. and Hollis is like ok then do your assignment very neutrally and Norma leaves thinking SHE HATES ME!!! bc I think Norma probably has. bad responses to rejection.

Hopefully Norma improves over time though bc I think! I think Hollis could possibly see a lot of potential in her!! She might even see a girl who's impatient, prone to rash decisions, and wants to prove herself so badly, and see herself in her. which is something that's only just occured to me but i enjoy the idea a lot so thats where I'll end this.