#falseearl

[lightcreators]

@falseearl continue from here

"Aren't you enthusiastic today. Curious, but what brought this on all of a sudden?" Astre stood with his arms folded over his chest. While he knew the blonde to get over excited about things it, was the first time that the former earl had heard something like this be spoken. "It's uncertain what the future will be stepping forward. Anything could happen however, that is I suppose I can agree with you. I'll believe in the future and survive the present. We can do it together!"

Will the future be bright or bleak. He hadn't thought that far ahead. Astre only focused on the now and, doing what he needed to do to push forward.

Enthousiasm who fluctuate during one second, as an unpleasant pout welcomed slowly his features, before dissolving for return inside current brightness he was experencing. Rightfully, he had matter to remaining depressive, though Claude’s absence eventually came to be accepted --- even if remnant of denial remained anchored inside his being, even associated to various guilt and sentiment of responsability for hadn’t been good enough for an demon … where sadly, mentally, his mind had to preparing himself for eventually ended up terrified for an couple of weeks … To himself, he needing motives for carry on living. To himself, he needing an impression of belonging inside his own name, inside his own environment, knowing how difficult everything will be … The past … The past will forever haunt him, staying behind him, clinging over his tiny hopes. Perception of the present, though associated to amusing irony inside current circumstances, had to be overcome … Eventually the future will fulfilled of brightness, where on his case, it would be consequence of all the actions realized in the present. Eventually, in the future, if he believed and motivated himself enough, if he managed to win bet for open Purgatory’s doors, he will be a witch.

It would change nothing of his full support towards Astre Phantomhive. Though mocking amusing teasing was felt towards circumstances irony, he touched something he cannot experience, where he couldn’t be saved, and honestly, didn’t saw the point anymore to get free of his special prison --- ❝ I’m not always depressive~ ❞ He noticed with an childhish voice, as he knew, self-depreciation was fast to appear inside his expression and remembrances were mostly painful. Gratefully, Astre had showing up inside his house when he had slowly overcomed initial despair state he had been, nevertheless, by moments, he remained with low energy and little will to do something, and still, sometimes he was scared about future circumstances he would face. Surviving his present mean surviving Philip Butler --- and that element was enough for making him internally scream. How he was supposed to bring an interest in front of an leader of underground, where he was nothing alike the boy he had been so much impressed with ? How he was supposed to gain whatever access door to the Golden Witch ? ❝  Oh, I have been thinking. ❞ He shrugged. Imagining himself as an discrete influence of the underground … simply that picture inside an long-away future … ❝ Uncertain ? ❞ He repeated amusingly. ❝ Not mine. ❞ He corrected slowly. Considering he should have been dead for quite a while, for sure, he will avoid to pass another time by the case Death … especially where there must be consequences to get his soul being destroyed from inside for months, where his emotional issues had deteriorated as a result … Hades removed that curse, but he had no specific indication about how he was supposed to survive the aftermatch, neither if his soul had been damaged or something. Sadly, it wasn’t enough for perceiving golden butterflies for example. ❝  My future isn’t uncertain … yours might be, but I’m sure I can do something about it. For Phantomhive living an certain future where everything will be fine~ ❞ For one second, he can forget he has still an demon’s deal, and will possibly died --- he wasn’t Alois Trancy enough to anticipated how compromise an deal with the God of the Underground ( besides to have no idea how to talk with him, and no knowing how to access to the Underground itself ) neither to make right now such an large difference … where he could seek to save his life either way. ❝ Though, I need to believe the future will be good for survive the present, and someday, not looking back and sensing all of that had been for nothing~ ❞ He laughed slowly. ❝ We will do it together~ I’m the one supposed to help you anyway, and see your face every day is my present daily gift, illuminating my present~ Am I good company ? ~ ❞

[falseearl-a]

Okay so I needed to start fresh for Astre, since this blog was a hot mess. So if you want to still role play with Astre you can find him over at his shiney new blog, same url falseearl. I have also updated my rules so make sure you read them.

[musehosting-blog]

@falseearl.

As the plate of food was set down in front of him, Smile could feel his eye twitch a little. “Doll. As grateful as I am that you got this food for me. Don’t you think you went a tad bit over with the amount? I mean this could bloody well feed four people easily.” He looked at the heaped up plate of food just as his stomach growled, the rich aroma of food hitting him. It smelled so delicious but he’d get sick if he ate this much. 

               ❝ WHAT’RE ya talkin ‘ about , smile ? s’always good t’ eat as much as ya can , anytime ya get the chance , right ? ❞ she wore a WIDE grin as she spoke despite the darkness lingering under those words -- of course , she never knew when the next time she’d get a meal was ... before . regardless of whether she realized she was doing it herself , freckles was loading up on as much as she could - that underlying worry there that it might not come again .

             ❝ OH , an ‘ , uh ... ❞ she leans in almost uncomfortably close , cupping one side of her mouth with her hand as she spoke to block any of the first - string members from overhearing or reading her lips . ❝ call me freckles when ah’m like this . no one outside’a the first - string knows my secret , ‘ kay ? ❞ she pulls back with a teasing smile , beginning to stuff her face . half - muffled by her breakfast as she tries to keep talking .

             ❝ but y’can just gimme anythin ‘ ya can’t finish . i’ll try not ta get’cha so much from now on . ❞

[prodiderat]

“stay in bed and let me look after you.”

hurt sentence starters

((Putting this under a read more due to potentially triggering content involving mentions of accidental self harm, mental illness, and trauma.))

This was why he couldn’t ever, in a million years, go against Ciel Phantomhive. This right here. A flicker of kindness in an abyssal darkness. He was his only coworker, the only other ‘Earl of Evil’ so to speak. At least, to a point where they would commit murders for the Queen if asked well enough. Ciel was the watchdog, the detective... He was the spider, the assassin. His expertise was murder and it got him into quite a bit of trouble. Killing someone and then framing someone else for the Queen’s sake was always a difficult and dangerous job... On occasions he’d do his own detective work, and on occasions Astre would commit a murder, but for the most part they had their roles... Sometimes they worked together, sometimes they worked autonomously, they were cogs in a machine constantly playing off of each other but hardly truly interacting. It hurt his heart, just a little bit, for a number of reasons. There was a part of him that obsessed over the earl, and there was a part of him that craved his attention and recognition. To say that the other was a role model would be a grossly large understatement-- a permanent fixation was much more akin to what fit. At the same time however, he wanted to turn down this kindness so graciously given to him... He felt he didn’t deserve it, not with how these wounds came to be.

His emotions were easy enough to predict while all the while being the most chaotic things on the face of this earth. for days on end, weeks, maybe even months he would be happy-go-lucky. in such an overwhelmingly good mood that he seemed to be on cloud nine. he would smile, grin, play, hell he’d even treat servants like Hannah with much more kindness and grace. other than a few small outbursts, he was, for the most part, utterly impossible to bring down. However his emotions were like a rubber band being pulled taught, eventually, to avoid breaking altogether, the band will have to snap back to form; and that’s what exactly would happen. He would be happy and then suddenly snap into a heavy aggression. He would enact violence and then immediately after fall into a deep depression. These aggressive spells could last minutes, or the entire day. He’d rip apart wallpaper, tear down curtains, beat his servants, even Claude wasn’t safe from his wrath on some days. by The end of it the room, or even the manor in it’s entirety, would be in shambles. Everything would be falling apart. But that wasn’t the most terrifying part… His aggression is terrifying in one way, but the deep depression he’d fall into after that was what really frightened most.

For almost twice the time(usually) that he’d been happy, he’d fall into this pit. He wouldn’t have the energy to get out of bed save for bathroom trips, wouldn’t have the energy to change his clothes, and wouldn’t have the energy to eat. It wasn’t uncommon for Claude to have to force him into a new night gown, or for servants to have to team up to lift him up while they changed his bedding. It also wasn’t entirely uncommon for Claude to have to force food into his mouth. He’d struggle against it, but as soon as whatever meal he was trying to get Alois to eat touched the earl’s tongue, he’d take it with little complaint. At one point the child had even bitten into the butler’s arm in one attempt to refuse a meal, only for it to be his own downfall as Claude wouldn’t allow Alois to close his mouth until a forkful of stake was on his tongue. Then that jaw would be forced into a closed position and that’d be the end of it. if Claude was a human there would definitely be a scar on that arm from the earl’s sharp canines. But he wasn’t, so no evidence of the violent action was left behind. In these deep depressions his world view would become malformed, so distorted in fact that he would often suffer bouts of what seemed to be psychosis or even vivid hallucinations. He would have flashbacks and terrible nightmares which only added to the terrible illusion of reality.

It wasn’t uncommon for him to request Claude stay by his side during terrible nights… This in of itself wouldn’t be too bad if not for how restless he’d be in the night and how at some points he’d still wake up screaming… It is in the delirium that he faced from his fragmented mind that servants would be ordered to keep a close eye on the earl, keep sharp objects and poisons away from him at all time, monitor all the things he has in his rooms– no belts, no rope, no buckles, no glass, nothing that he could inflict any damage upon himself. Alois didn’t want to commit suicide or hurt himself, not truly. In fact most of the time he didn’t even realize he was doing it until someone pulled him out of his near sleepwalking type of state. Often times, when this would happen, he would panic and attack whoever stirred him– as such it was imperative to grab him in a way that would neutralize any danger he posed. If he had a knife and was cutting up his legs, grab his arm and disarm him before he has a chance to truly struggle, then subdue him. That was the orders given, that was the instruction received. There was always the idea put forth by some that perhaps he needed mental care, but the prospect of an asylum was so outright awful that instead of treatment the only option was to hide his mental deterioration behind closed doors. He did well enough in public, it was just in private where things fell apart.

Sending the ‘young master’ to an asylum just to be tortured for ‘treatment’ was never a viable option and was something nobody would allow.

When Claude found him, the his white nightgown was stained a deep red. Blood caked his legs to the point where it was near impossible to tell wound from coated skin. He had to be washed before any bandaging could be done and by the end of it all, the bathwater was red and his wounds were being staunched by restrictive bandages. Bed rest was what was forced upon him. No leaving his bed until he recovered unless someone was there with him. There were so many scars upon his legs now, hidden behind his boots and socks. Perhaps a pair of tights. He wouldn’t allow for a soul to see them. They were his sin, his delusion, and nobody could see into his fragmented mind. And yet... there was one person who he knew could see through the veil he hid behind. Someone who had yet to step beyond it but could see ever so clearly through it to the other side. The only person that could possibly enact that switch to flip early in his brain to return him to either a positive or negative state of mind... Depending on how it all played out. The Earl of Phantomhive was easily a mental catalyst... 

“Why would you want to do something like that?” He asked him, blue eyes somewhat downcast, he couldn’t find the will to look him straight in the eyes. There was a heavy feeling of shame fluttering in his mind. Why is it he felt no shame for the bad things he did on purpose, and yet felt so much shame for the things he couldn’t control? Why did he pull his hair out when he thought about how he fell on his ass while dancing with someone, but not when he thought about how he gouged out Hannah’s eyes. “Look after me, I mean... It cannot be pleasant I imagine, to care after your... wounded coworker.“ He was going to say ‘mad’, but held his tongue. He didn’t know the extent for which the other knew. While he trusted Astre, he also did fear that he’d tell the Queen, not truly knowing how awful Asylum life was. “You don’t have to stay here, Ciel...” And yet he wanted him to... He wanted nothing more than the company of someone other than his servants. Someone that understood him much better... Even if just a little bit. Just one more soul.

Just one more wounded soul.

@falseearl -- ((feel free to turn this into a thread if you’d like))

[diabolus-noctis]

"Your timing couldn't have been more perfect."

The Lion King: Sentence Starters

Stepping into the office, a cruel yet satisfying smirk settled on his lips. “I see, why would that be, my lord? Do you require my assistance?”

[sxrpens]

What fanfic trope are you?

love confessions & light angst

you’re either a hopeless romantic or endlessly confused about romance in general. probably oikawa, killua, or bakugou kin

tagged by: @silvcrreaper tagging: @motylheir @acollapsar @chainedfate @falseearl @hancfubuki​

[sororculus-blog]

@falseearl

               ❝ ‘Ey, it’s Smile, right? Ye’re the one who’s always hangin’ around with the other new fella Black? ❞

Wendy was not the most sociable of people when it came to the lower ranking members, but she remembered seeing Smile and his friend the night she’d injured her foot. She understood how difficult it could be to have to perform an act you'd had no time to prepare for, and so she wanted to give the former butler (that was what he’d told Joker he was, if she remembered correctly) her thanks.

               ❝ Well, could ye pass on a message fer me? Peter ‘n I really appreciate him steppin’ in to take over our act the other night. We don’ know what we’d have done wiv’out his help. ❞

               ❝ An’ I’ve been meanin’ ta ask, how are ye settlin’ in? Any issues or concerns ye’d like me ta deal with? ❞

[lightcreators]

@falseearl continue from here

"They mean nothing! We make our own laws and nothing can stand in our way. We'll make them kneel and show them we are a force not to be reckoned with."

Bright enthousiasm embraced his entire features. After all, concerning the sentence he had been exposing earlier --- it had been an confession. Laws of the universe mean nothing to him --- even how thight could be Fate’s threads. With all his rudeness, he was the one who control it, not the other way around, and would influencing them for get all he wanted, whatever about terrible consequences it would bring. It was quite an pleasant landscape to admire kings crowns for better smartly stole them on their head, and left them with an inevitable hell ! Considering his selfish perspective towards Phantomhive, far away of honest affections of his twin, he was quite pleased with his reaction. No, he hadn't that wonderful idea, as everyone else who knew him enough, for try to stop him … and was an wonderful indication about what his twin could do all the same, which was an interesting open door. At least, Phantomhive showing himself to be interesting for once, it changed about how boresome he usually was. ❝  Oooooooh~ You are interested too for what I can see~ ❞ Playfulness rythmed every word. Silent grin was welcomed with an powerful happy smile, as he had to hold back an giggle. Tourment people was his main hobby as daily sweetness and he was rather good at it --- find sensitive point was just long watching spot who had to be used carefully until the bone marrow, as it would be too kind to left someone he tortured with an fragment of hope … Ah, he really had been well-educated ! ❝ We can being an wonderful team : world’s destroyers, London’s terrors. ❞ Though, for that, he wanted to see how far Phantomhive could go. Wasn’t like he was worried. Amount of dangerous people exposing immediate red flag was usual compagny for him. ❝ Ah, I’m pretty good to make people kneel at me … I’m interested to see how you’re doing the same~ With me around, nothing will be left for people standing in our ways ☆ ❞ He grinned slowly.

[lightcreators]

@falseearl​ continue from here

"I'm fi-" His words were cut off as another fit of coughs came over him. Astre had not been feeling well and and had been outside in the cold air for too long. His body felt like it was going to give way any moment and well if he was burning up it meant he had a fever. "I just need a good rest and i'll be fine."

An  short  panic  instant  betrayed  his  features.  Possibly,  he  wouldn’t  never  be  able  again  to  picturing  someone  coughting  without  recollecting  what  happened  to  him  …  Still,  as  much  his  gaze  showed  serious  anxiety  for  something  so  small,  he  anchored  himself  into  recent  physical  touch  he  did  in  his  forehand.  With  some  rest,  eventually,  it  will  pass  …  and  he  can  use  him  as  teddy  bear  …  if  he  didn’t  invinting  himself  for  bring  affectionnate  reassurances  towards  him.  It  came  naturally  to  him  to  simply  enjoying  every  occassion  to  be  close  to  Phantomhive  !  There  was  still  that  fear  about  be  rejected,  that  permanent  terror  he  might  doing  something  wrong  …  but  well  …  with  the  time,  he  must  have  been  accoustumed  to  what  to  expect  from  him,  right  ?  It  wasn’t  like  he  was  famous  for  behaving  normally  …  or  even  having  some  common  sense  !  Or  consideration  about  social  norms,  all  associated  bullshit  associated  with  his  status,  all  associated  boredom  linked  towards  ‘normality’.  For  a  couple  of  seconds,  there  was  an  emotion  of  responsability,  who  was  still  oppressing  inside  his  being.    ❝  Why  not  laying  down  for  some  moments  ?  You  will  have  some  nurse  with  you.    ❞  He  would  apology  in  advance  for  what  he  will  do  …  for  been  totally  powerless  to  take  care  of  someone.  Managing  to  take  care  of  himself,  not  to  rest  some  days  into  comforting  ambiance  of  his  sheets,  sometimes  remained  a  feat.  He  was  able  to  stay  enthused  longer,  to  pretend  he  hadn’t  been  emotionally  shaken  by  what  had  happened,  yet  his  despair  only  grew  deeper.  Recollections  of  his  curse  into  details  like  those  were  fragmented  remembrance  of  an  sadness  he  did  his  best  not  to  show  …  He  invited  gently  Astre  to  lay  down  over  one  of  luxurious  couchs.

[lightcreators]

@falseearl​ continue from here

"Hmm, well you do well enough pulling off wearing dresses. And especially wigs. So why not dress up as a princess it would be very amusing at least for me." Just as long as he wasn't dragged into being dolled up. Astre did NOT want to wear a corset again.

An  wave  of  enthousiasm  wrapped  his  features,  flattered  towards  sudden  compliments  …  over  that  long  time  ago  memory.  He  expressed  his  first  sentence  playfully,  considering  how  much  he  touched  for  other  reasons  the  experience  of  ‘boy  in  distress’  —  though  yet  unable  to  offering  complete  derision  over  the  topic  without  be  triggered  back  and  breaking  down  …  for  still  yet  …  digest  …  circumstances  about  how  his  life  will  be  until  his  last  breath,  how  he  was  supposed  to  bring  justice  over  a  legacy  without  be  allowed  to  confess  full  details.  He  didn’t  really  get  an  occassion  to  ask  Phantomhive  about  his  'opinion’  back  over  that  particular  reference  :  their  relationship  was  different,  he  was  walking  into  a  path  of  illusions  …  His  late  approbation  was  gratefully  welcomed.  Though,  he  would  remaining  true  to  himself.  Sadly,  there  was  no  occassion  to  testing  that  point  over  his  metaphoric  twin,  treating  that  topic  as  a  domain  of  complete  freedom  about  expected  behavior  …  if  he  even  wanted  to  playing  such  role.  He  appreciated,  with  Astre,  to  not  focusing  solely  over  the  boy  he  was  supposed  to  be  —  to  tasting  one  more  that  sensation  to  act  as  much  he  desired,  without  consideration  for  feedback.    ❝  Oooooh,  I’ll  be  your  beautiful  princess  waiting  full  of  affection  from  her  prince~    ❞  He  charmed  back,  when  joyfully,  he  crossed  once  more  personal  space  by  moving  along  his  face.    ❝  A  magnificent  prince  ready  to  help  his  princess  in  distress  !    ❞  He  playfully  dramatized.    ❝  I  appreciate  that  you  loved  the  maid  ~  You  will  surely  enjoy  rest  of  my  lonely  hobbies~    ❞

[lightcreators]

@falseearl​ continue from here

Oh? So you're saying you can predict the future? Funny thing is just when you think everything is going fine it finds a wall to all come crashing down. And nothing ever goes fine for me."

Excitement  filling  his  previous  reassuring  sentence  fated  out  dramatically.  Into  others  circumstances,  he  would  have  found  disappointment  how  Astre  ruined  everything  —  however,  there  was  a  sympathy  gaze  offered  instead.  Once  upon  a  time,  he  had  been  silently  holding  towards  this  mentality.  Once  upon  a  time,  he  would  have  loved  heard  that  sentence  multiple  time.  Even  today,  there  was  an  indirect  need  to  believing  it  still  remained  true.  Paradox  of  personality,  despite  be  emotionally  aloud,  most  of  time  uncontrollably  for  didn’t  have  decency  to  holding  his  feelings,  there  was  density  of  emotions  he  wasn’t  speaking.  For  once,  role  and  reality  interconnected  together  :  if  he  hadn’t  passed  from  similar  step  a  layer  of  understanding  would  have  been  missed  out.    ❝  I  can’t  predict  the  future.    ❞    Something  he  dreadfully  dreamed  to  anticipating  as  beautifully  as  the  original.  So  far,  he  was  an  intimidating  spider  able  barely  to  paying  attention  to  his  prey.  Not  as  the  point  to  forcing  concerned  fall  into  his  web  and  didn’t  understanding  what  happened  to  them.    ❝  Staying  defeated  won’t  get  you  any  good.  Except  if  you  want  to  spend  your  time  brooding  in  your  corner.  ❞  There  was  an  accidental  confession  into  his  words  choice,  when  regardless  of  shrugging  with  disinterest,  a  passing  sadness  appeared.  Internally  cursing  himself  for  have  stayed  observer.  A  vivid  effort  was  generated  for  not  obsessing  over  the  recollection.    ❝  You  aren’t  interested  to  fight  that  wall  ?    ❞  He  asked,  when  surprisingly,  he  appreciated  those  moments  when  he  became  completely  the  illusion.    ❝  Not  eager  to  give  a  different  turn  ?    ❞

[falseearl-a]

test TEST test

[lightcreators]

@falseearl​ continue from here

"I guess we both had to learn how to live independently. Having everything done for you and not having to lift a finger was a luxury. But when the rug gets pulled from underneath you and the cold harsh water of reality hits you it stings." Learning to get dressed yourself, defend yourself without the help of your butler. Attempt to do things for oneself, it was a struggle. Something Astre was still adapting to.

He no longer held the title of lord anymore and what happened that night at the manor when he returned home still dug into him deeply like a wound which would never close. "I suppose it's nice to see you as well Alois."

There  was  one  subject  he  didn’t  wanted  speak  directly  —  complete  absence  of  Claude.  It  was  an  matter  of  time  until  his  beloved  friend  with  no  title,  who  was  previously  his  enemy,  and  accidently  who  try  to  kill  him  afterwards  avoided  be  killed  with  his  adorable  hands  …  wondering  where  the  hell  was  his  demon  butler  always  at  his  side  …  or  even  what  happened  since  the  last  time  they  cross  each  other  a  long  time  ago  …  what  kind  of  adventures  he  had  experienced.  It  was  on  that  cimented  topic  he  had  to  learning  ‘independance’.  Eventually  becoming  competent  enough  for  holding  an  entire  somber  business  into  darkness,  to  becoming  that  beacon  of  darkness  inside  the  underground  …  to  get  everything  he  wanted  from  them  by  himself  …  Currently,  by  moments,  when  he  disliked  his  own  incompetence,  when  his  own  reflection  on  the  mirror  turning  too  much  heavier  …  he  was  screaming  at  the  God  of  the  Underground  help.  Annoying  the  God  of  the  Underground  beyond  anything  else.  Did  he  projected  anger  ?  Did  he  exposed  his  complete  despair  and  sadness  over  past  circumstances  ?  Did  he  confessed  how  much  he  regretted  to  had  survived  for  be  unable  to  fit  the  legacy  of  that  stolen  name  ?  Himself  …  didn’t  knew  anymore.  It  was  simply  out  of  question  Hades  forget  about  him.  It  was  some  endless  recollections  about  these  circumstances  remaining  sealed.  He  was  an  complete  disaster  who  wished  to  be  a  king,  he  was  an  complete  incompetent  wishing  to  rule  as  a  king  …  forced  to  found  his  supports  by  himself.  He  needed  to  gain  approval  of  Hades  in  one  way  or  another.  He  needed  that  bastard  of  Lelouch  for  be  acknowledged  also  into  a  terror  tourment  him  —  probably  not  at  the  point  to  fight  intellectually  into  same  playground,  but  still,  receiving  couple  of  lessons  about  how  be  a  piece  of  shit  as  he  was  so  inclining  to  show  it  himself.  He  needed  found  the  key  of  witch  realm,  and  for  that,  he  needed  acknoweldgement  of  the  underground  …  His  existence  was  focused  solely  over  that  single  purpose.  He  needed  to  became  Alois  Trancy  in  one  way  or  another,  and  not  simply  remembering  to  himself  he  was  a  merely  impostor  who  was  too  fragile  and  too  useless  for  mattered  into  whatever  court  …

There  was  an  compassionate  smile  towards  Astre  comment.  Compared  to  him,  even  though  he  get  welcomed  with  harsh  reality  with  cold  water  …  he  never  experienced  to  living  in  the  streets,  been  all  day  and  night  unsafe  without  a  comfortable  place  to  rest,  agony  of  hunger  …  He  never  experienced  what  true  misery  looked  like.  How  it  was  fully  pushed  behind  by  everyone,  to  have  no  one,  to  trust  no  one  …  to  living  into  total  loneliness  and  always  perceived  as  weak  …  Something  even  that  old  bastard  never  stopped  to  recalled  him  about.  He  was  worthless.  He  was  a  pawn  people  could  use  —  which  had  been  what  really  happened,  physically  and  emotionally,  to  him.  Past  confessions  he  had  offered  him  to  his  greatest  surprise  hadn’t  been  forgotten  …  however  his  perspective  of  'luxury’  was  still  limited  …  well  …  somewhere.  His  metaphoric  twin  and  him,  if  circumstances  would  have  been  different,  wouldn’t  have  such  problem  —  they  would  share  luxuries  of  each  other,  playing  along  their  alike  resemblance,  team  up  into  ambitions  …  when  they  had  to  do  it  otherwise.  Hide  complete  existence  of  a  mastermind  shadow  for  better  reflecting  truth  …  Nevertheless,  as  far  he  knew,  Astre  still  had  his  demon  butler,  though  he  wasn’t  always  at  his  side.  Partially,  he  had  Hannah  helped  him.  It  was  Phantomhive  and  his  morosity  again  !  Still  a  funny  thing,  when  he  could  hit  record  about  emotional  distress  !  Some  days,  he  pretended  an  inexistent  happiness  for  accepting  past  enthousiasm  had  to  keep  going  no  matter  what  —  that  it  will  cement  of  that  new  existence  as  Alois  Trancy,  without  yet  experiencing  a  fragment  about  what  his  metaphoric  twin  had  been  going  though  …  Other  times,  he  enjoyed  his  good  mood  without  pondering.  At  his  last  sentence,  an  sound  of  joy  exposed  naturally,  as  he  naturally  embraced  him  affectionnatly.  ❝  I’m  happy  to  see  you  too,  Astre~  I’ll  always  happy  when  I  see  you~  My  day  become  already  better!    ❞  He  caressed  a  little  his  hair  before  pull  away,  knowing  himself  another  sudden  hugs  might  happens  again.    ❝  You  have  always  known  luxury  however  you  may  feel  it,  you  were  lucky  not  to  know  pure  poverty …  to  have  to  find  your  food  on  your  own  or  to  figure  out  how  to  survive  day  by  day  …  that’s  cold  water  that  cools  you  for  life  !  I  try  to  fulfill  some  of  my  desires  …    ❞  He  didn’t  finished  his  sentence,  sensing  another  wave  of  sadness.    ❝  Hell’s  antechamber  is  not  a  nice  place…    ❞

[lightcreators]

@falseearl​ continue from here

"Clearly you are! You're clining to me very very tightly Alois." Astre was slightly annoyed by the blonde but he would be lying to himself if he were to say he wasn't scared either. "Besides it was you who wante to come here. I was completely against the idea."

Gratefully,  he  only  wanted  to  try  visit  his  domain  at  night  …  not  in  middle  of  nowhere  inside  London  or  inside  the  suburbs  …  or  even  search  to  do  his  ‘job’  as  Queen’s  Spider  to  expressing  his  favors  in  front  of  the  underground  …  An  shadowing  influence  of  the  underground,  famous  for  such  reputation,  who  could  supposebly  moving  out  pawns  of  darkness  inside  his  comfortable  seat  still  horrified  by  darkness  themselves  …  Regardless  about  how  much  they  had  a  light,  his  level  of  discomfort  never  stopped  to  inscreased.  He  would  have  loved  bring  some  kind  of  strange  party  in  middle  of  a  forest  —  for  touching  that  secretive  witch  aspect  he  could  exploring  into  such  domain  —  but  realizing  sadly  his  emotional  mind  couldn’t  take  it  …  Not  solely  darkness  was  his  problem.  There  was  also  the  forest  itself.  The  place  he  could  have  died  …  if  he  didn’t  managed  to  been  welcomed  with  a  miracle…  to  escape  his  demon  butler  for  not  be  found  and  murdered  on  the  spot  …  Remembrance  generated  an  digust  sound  inside  his  throat,  clinging  further  over  Astre.  Whatever  his  complains.  He  trembled  instead  of  be  able  to  say  something.    ❝  At  least,  we  are  still  inside  my  domain.    ❞  He  noticed.    ❝  I  thought  that  could  be  fun  to  visit  it  the  night  —    ❞  Maybe  if  you  had  stopped  me  before  getting  along  that  bad  idea,  we  wouldn’t  be  into  such  terrible  conditions,  complained  his  thoughts,  when  anyways,  there  was  consciousness  the  fault  was  his.    ❝  But  apparently  …  it  …  beyond  my  abilities  …    ❞  How  he  was  supposed  to  talk  with  the  underground  ?  Inviting  them  in  daylight  for  tea  ?  That  weight  created  another  sensation  of  stress,  inscreasing  his  tremblings,  feeling  tears  coming  out  of  his  eyes  without  warning  …    ❝  Ah,  my  life  is  a  big  joke  …  say  that  I  am  able  to  touch  this  level  of  irony  …    ❞

[aloismclovelylegs]

A chuckle rose in the blonde's chest along with a smirk that, perhaps to the untrained eye was just a playful tease to rouse the boy. Though to one who knew him much more such as the younger Earl, he could no doubt see the twinge of malice behind those glacial blue eyes. "Oh do forgive me-" the blonde started off in a grosely sarcastic tone. "I just like know that when I am taking the time to give someone my attention, it is not falling on deaf ears. A man of your status must understand hmm?" And with a little pat on the cheek, Alois releases him from his brief clutch. "So-" He starts, reclining back in his seat, tossing one leg over the other. "Do I have your attention now?"

🤞 (however you prefer~ a wonderful way to start a back and forth I think)

"You will unhand my chin at once!" If there was one thing he would not tolerate it was for another to touch him. He had been perfectly fine averting his gaze elsewhere, only to find his chin being grasped and his head raised to come eye to eye with the blonde.